"excursion" poems
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea
Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics
Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea
Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics
Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion
Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky
Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion
Straight up forever ontology on high
Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous
Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice
Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous
Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis
Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics
Guidon gyration excursion integration
Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics
Chaos charisma objectified tribulation
Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis
Exude emote surrogate extrapolation
Astral projection littoral hypotaxis
Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation
Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities
Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity
Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities
Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity
Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra
Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra
Intensely cogitational abstract mantra
Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra
Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra
Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra
Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
You took me from ground to sky..
You taught me how to fly..
You made me PAPA..
You prevent me from blowing off..
You taught me how to laugh..
You made me PAPA..
You give me all i want..
You taught me how to fear haunt..
You made me PAPA..
You always stand by my side..
You taught me how to decide..
You made me PAPA..
You love me as i am your soul..
You taught me how not to fall..
You made me PAPA..
You are a perfect engineer..
You taught me how to fix and gear..
You made me PAPA..
You are the best person..
You taught me how to make life an excursion..
You made me PAPA..
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC
The excursion of a mother commences when she EMBRACES the child as a boon,
A life long relevance emanated from your WOMB..
To enter into this wicked world i took a gap ,
To comprehend the despicable i stayed in your lap....
I ****** her blood, changed her appetite
I was no more than a PARASITE
She supplied me TONES of calcium
All my skeleton , all my FLESH she owns
She ENDURED those mood swings ,
Nausea, vomiting that i brought
He was expecting his heredity, his PRIDE
She was HAPPY that i exist,
She loved me from very start
I stole her breathe , but she embraced my heart......
From 1st trimester, because of her my heart is BEATING
If i didn't love her back that would be a CHEATING
A sense of TRUST that can't be broken ,
A depth of love sometimes UNSPOKEN....
You SACRIFICED yourself to evolve me like our heart as ONE ,,,,
A link that can never be UNDONE...
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 11:43 AM UTC
Don't use ****
To get what I need
**** em up
**** me up
Dyslexia *****
Like I **** you off
On my best friends floor
Behind the bathroom door
While they're dead asleep
Our secret to keep
Turn off the TV
Making sure they can't see
You right on top of me
Fingertips trace along your sides
While you're meeting my insides
Get to know me even more
Can't hear our moans over their snore
I can barely keep my eyes open
Swim in me like I'm the ocean
Getting seasick everywave
A life I can't help but save
Swallowed like Jonah and the whale
Pause and we both exhale
Collapse in exhaustion
After our little excursion
Your heartbeat puts me to sleep
Your breathing is still deep
Didn't even need ****
To get a good night's sleep
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 3:03 PM UTC
I was a better love poet
When we were dating
The anxiety to be exactly
what you're looking for
stimulated all my hibernating
thoughts
Now a good lover
But a skeptical writer
Anticipation would stir
my imagination
Now blank with a pen
To every word chain
To every verse
To every unfolding stanza
There was magic and rhythm
This translated into intimacy
But I have got a plan
I'm going to take my mind
on excursion
Do bungee jumping
so I seize an out of body moment
I'm taking on a travelling job
To miss you so much
so often
For all that love
For all the nostalgia
To burst into a word montage
Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 2:55 PM UTC
i'm sure
life was a peach
til he was born breach
but the inversion of his excursion
into the hands of the surgeon left him worse an'
the immersive submersion
in perversive subversion
was only urgin'
the incursion
of aspersions
for subversive diversion
as
an apparition with volition
wishin for position transition
fishin for recognition
of ambitious cognition
this in addition
to the malicious conditions
that stitched in repetitions
of neurochemical
composition
transmissions
entailing
the intensity of his propensity
to find immense suspense in the
density of a tense city hence did he
commence in the dispensary
of sound condensed sensory
sensory sensory sensory.
said the intensity of his propensity
to find immense suspense in the
density of a tense city hence did he
commence in the dispensary
of sound condensed sensory
sensory sensory.
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 7:33 PM UTC
I had a dream the other day I ran into a doctor, lawyer and a constable,
We came to an agreement that I had lost some part of me and that "I" am totally responsible;
Then I had another dream I ran into a doctor, cousolor and a poet,
We came to an agreement there's certain things you just don't delegate but before then I didn't know it!
So now I'm taking six weeks off and explaining why is basically the moral of this little rhyme,
I have to find that item I lost instead of intertaining getting high and ******* all the time!
There's a lot of back stepping I must do I could have lost it anywhere,
It's a powerful asset I've always had but I lost it somewhere over this past year.
It might be right next to you or me so please look around do you see it?
This is a necessary part of me I really need so I just can't ignore or say so be it.
I must retrace my steps to lead me back to what once led me to here,
To fix that error of my past when I lost the virtue of my despair.
Now a broken bone heals in six weeks and so I think this is a realistic amount of time,
This is a personal excursion I must take because believe me I feel all of your pain combined.
I have to find my virtue the disposition to keep on doing the right thing...
Without my positive attitude the strength and prudence I have just doesn't mean a god ****** thing!
You might miss me a little bit but I plead for you to stay away,
If you don't it doesn't matter cause I'm not answering my phone, texts e-mails nor doorbells anyway.
And if you've learned anything from me you'll listen to me when I say,
Loosing virtue is like jumping off a 55 ft. bridge you'll be hurting every day!
And if like me you ever lose your virtue you'll realize this then too,
You'll go on an excursion just like me this virtue you too you will persue.
Sediment, strength, prudence and wisdom go nowhere as far as prooving who one is,
Without the moral virtue we all have that allows us to make stinky things smell like roses.
Goodbye for now I'll see you soon and for me to do this you ought,
To love yourself much and me much too and for you... to Keep a Wonderful aThought!
Robin Ashley
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
Sit down my friends, come hear this true story
It's interesting, but it's also gory
One fine day in eighteen seventy-four
Alferd Packer, who just loved to explore
With five friends, he began a three-month tour
'Cross the Rockies, but don't ask me what for
Six men walked for seventy-five miles
But the voyage just was not all smiles
For you see, when the group finally came back
Five of the men the party now did lack
At the end of those cold seventy-five
Alferd Packer alone finished alive
When asked why, he didn't know what to say
His memory seemed to change day to day
But at last he settled on one version
Of what happened on that long excursion
The police decided this one was true
And it's this one that I'll now tell to you
One hiker, it seemed, whose name had been Bell
Just went insane, but why no one could tell
Packer claimed that Bell had killed all the rest
Of the hikers, and that packer was next
So ole Packer, he said, "I tried my best
To stop him; but I fought back with such zest
Shannon Bell died, but it's just common sense
When I say, I killed him in self-defense"
Then Alferd, he was left with five dead men
What could he do? It was getting cold then
So Alferd, to warm up that freezing hell
Took the body and he devoured Bell
For dessert he then ate his other four
Dead companions; but hey — what are friends for?
When finished, he caused a sensation
By arriving at the tour's destination
When Alferd had ended his gruesome tale
The local cops threw him quickly in jail
Where he served over seventeen long years
But if his fate fills your eyes now with tears
I'll reveal here, he was released alive
Died a free man, the age of sixty-five
Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 1:54 PM UTC
When the Costa Concordia met with a reef,
it was certain some lives would be lost.
As she listed to starboard at eighty degrees,
Her Captain was first to get off.
Captain Schettino was schmoozing some blonde
when his ship began veering to shore.
He was unwilling to go down on his ship,-
The blonde? yes, but hold the encore.
It seems his chief waiter hails from the Isle,
the Isle with the ship eating reef.
They drew close to shore so he’d wave to his wife
an excursion that beggars belief.
The Coast guard responders where shocked and amazed;
They just couldn’t believe what they saw:
The Cruise liner Captain, paddling furiously,
beating women and children to shore.
Unlike Captain Smith, who stood at his post,
hearing “ Nearer my God to thee.”
The tune that Schettino will sing his bambinos
is “Nearer to Shore take me!”
He’ll spend time in jail, but the punishment pales
when compared to the scope of his sin
This sailor has fallen from grace with the sea
in his dreams let their screams never end.
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 9:05 PM UTC
Clashing lights from the shadows;
Thundering in constant motion
Red swarms overtaking the blue nights,
A grand disturbance -
Raging through the cosmos
Shifting the course of this endless strife
(Wake up now,
We have misconstrued our fate)
Spiraling forth, into nebulous unknown
The force flows from within;
Embrace the cause -
To restore a balance lost aeons ago
Gears turning towards a lie
Deceived by peace
Crucial moments for the light;
Two tides collide
Detrimental,
Sacrifices,
Interstellar transmutation
Exiled till, the return of the progeny
Remnants of the order
Confined to, the corners of the galaxy
Strengthened, by the chosen one
Fallen hero;
Exalts into gradeur
Shining greater than the stars
Universal luminescence
Macrocosmic ~
As Above So Below
Frequencies resonating,
Constructing wretched Elysium
Eternal cataclysm,
Decimation
A massive surge of power;
Lost, following the stars of scripture
Kingdoms falling one by one ~
NOVUS ORDO
Symmetry unfolds
Visions pass
Fallacies expose
Divine excursion
Escape the stasis
Elevate, frame of mind
Amidst resistance;
Ignite lucidity
Harmony engulfs,
This fractured existence
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
Whenever my family and I,
Prepare to embark on a fair drive,
I grab my phone with my playlist along with my headphones.
Filled with excitement that nobody knows.
We set out on our excursion,
I put my headphones in,
I turn on my music,
And let the symphonies enter my head.
If I close my eyes,
I can visualize,
An ancient city filled with song and dance,
Amidst a sacred feast with the finest band.
I see the dresses swirl, and I smell the wheat in the fields,
Along with the fresh bread that they created with their yields.
The song changes to a more melancholic melody,
I envision a final stand, one with honor and dignity.
The knight fights its hardest, but is overrun,
The piano’s keys, haunting me, as it dies under the setting sun.
Another change, more upbeat, a comforting, catchy symphony.
I wish to dance, but I am confined to the car seat.
I open my eyes and look to the right,
At the sprawling landscape we’ve been passing by,
But instead of farmland and trees, guess what I see,
The same mind-boggling envisioning!
More songs play, various tones,
From joyous to somber, sacred to monotone,
Threatening to empowering, all on their own.
The drums beat to the piano’s keys,
As a rare mandolin strums in harmony.
A glorious symphony,
An undertone for creativity.
Oh, the power of envisioning!
Sep 18, 2025
Sep 18, 2025 at 7:17 PM UTC
The hunting of the shark was an annual excursion,
It was a Rite of passage ceremony for thirteen year old boys.
30 of us left that early June morning,
the skies were cloudless, the waters calm.
But only 17 of us returned, 17 of us witnessed
our friends being mauled by tiger sharks,
they rammed our small fishing boats.
17 of us will never forget that day
We went without harpoon or gun ,
we went with just some home made knives,
fresh water and sheer nerve.
We returned with no shark ,
we returned with just the wounded and the brave.
Life abandoned the 13,
we abandoned the 13 (we had to)
but, will they always be boys ?
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 9:42 AM UTC
From the beach my group departs for a deep sea fishing excursion
Huddled in a fiberglass vessel known as the Barracuda
Captain Alberto is a burly man with dark skin and a silver tooth
Operating the motor is his young apprentice and amigo
The captain has his children’s names painted on the hull
One of them, Estrella, rings out in my mind
The boat rocks me nearly nauseous in the bobbing motions
My excitement builds as I photograph a variety of species
Fish would breach the surface, birds would swoop and dive
I even saw a whale
Distinguishable by tail
We slowed down for a better look at century-old tortugas
Circled round a mating pair, voyeurs to procreation
An engine boom and acceleration meant there was a bite
Alberto took the rod yet handed it to my party
The Mahi-Mahi swam and pulled with all its mortal strength
Its yellowish body shining and shimmering while it leapt
Our captain unsheathed an instrument for pulling the fish aboard
A candy cane shaped hook with a fine blade ending the curve
Impaled the marine dweller, pinned his body to the deck
It flopped about violently seeming to spill blood by the gallon
I found the creature’s face to be both hideous and handsome
A long bony bridge protruded from its forehead
Here, Alberto beat the beast to death with a wooden bat
It died with dignity
Fed a family
I thank the sea
For this gift
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 6:37 AM UTC
inverted purpose, a hurting version
verses for this urban exertion
first curse, the burdened dispersion
unworthy service of incursion
perverted circus, a working aversion
reversing their verbal coercion
the first thirst is the verse's assertion
immersed in an urgent excursion
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 1:33 PM UTC
I sit besides Aunt Edna and being 10,
fingers gently
scratch my back.
A steady hum of engine,
reflecting horses under hood.
Swishing trees and poles fly by.
An added whistling auto breeze
wrapped in summer
warmth,
symphony on the run.
Olfactory treat of country
lilac cradled in country air.
Days surrender to simpler times.
Away we roll-somewhat inclined- into a vesper-fiery
sunset and ice cream
at KOCHES
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 2:34 AM UTC
Midnight excursion
Streetlights of gold
So many treasures
The darkness unfolds
Silver leaves illumed
By the moons ghoulish glow
How many secrets does
The darkness know
Diamonds that shimmer
In the vast blackened sky
What next to this in
The darkness am I?
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 10:59 PM UTC
To All Men Who Can:
We must articulate our sorrow; find joy in the grief
Call the resurgence when anguish is chief!
Illuminate Dark Alley
There is no finale
But the ethereal timeless bliss
Return solemn calling
of the moon,
Return to the mother
flowers in bloom
Listless excursion
Our soul's in aversion
To the petty game we made
Love be thine calling,
Our souls are not falling to this
Infatuous State of Sin
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC
elegant escapades
everglade excursion
elevating emotions
enchanted evenings
egrets and ermine –
elated elephants encircle
eucalyptus
entering estrus –
evangelical elders
each embedded
even the entrenched
earn ecstatic event entrees
eat and expand
enjoy
experience –
explorers explode
expanding energy
engraving
extra’s
expertly
eloquently –
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Started off Exchanging numbers we crossed paths like a X
Exactly when I Examined you, I knew you ain’t like the rest
Now shawty was so Exquisite, something I ain’t Expect
I thought girls like you Existed at the type of Expense
Can’t say our fires Extinguished, yet can’t deal with the stress
I can’t deal with Expulsion, I can’t deal with Exempt
Can’t Explain with Examples, no words to Express
Excuse my Explicit lyrics but I want you so **** all the rest
I wanted to Exceed my Excursion with you without no Excess
I Exclaimed **** love!” Exactly when you left
Now I must Extricate, I must confess
Don’t show it Externally but I feel it up in my chest
And it ain’t even bout the *** I could get it from the next
I just don’t wanna leave having something I will regret
Its just......
I’m still in love with my Ex
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 5:01 PM UTC
**All aboard the Skylark, a cruise of mystery
it comes highly recommended, excursion starts at three
with a-tootle of the horn, sightseeing we set sail
on Summer days, around the bay, then back for scones and tea.
... ... ...**
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 11:30 AM UTC
when we remember
what the times have been
that made us into what
and who
we are today
we travel deep into our past
to hear our mother’s voice
our father’s not so friendly gripes
when we fouled up a task he gave to us
our friends, our teachers, our loves
whose interactions shaped
who we eventually have become
while we believe that we have always been
so independent and autonomous
it may be worth a moment to reflect
upon the influences
we are inclined to casually neglect
and recognize the fact
that we are always part
of that great whole
which we so desperately try
to disavow for individuality
only to recognize a few years later
the minimal common denominator
life is a wonderful excursion into space and time
always surprising, turning on a dime,
leaving us puzzled well unto the end
always intent to look beyond
the next bend of the river …….
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 7:46 PM UTC
Charles Dennis
I was in my den, in my favorite chair with its
walls of wood and its shelves filled with wares from an
excursion I had taken to a far away land, and collected
these items to place where they stand.
I could hear the clock ticking, hear the wind howling outside,
while I held on to this shotgun, I had by my side.
I glanced out the window and all I could see
were blowing branches and leaves
that fell from the trees.
Wind blew in gusts, the rain started to fall, as I heard a
child's voice beginning to call. I could not make out just what
they said I had strange visions of ghosts in my head. As the rain fell harder
it came down in sheets like ghosts that move without any feet.
As night was waning, the flames started to rise in the
fireplace right in front of my eyes, as witches, goblins and
ghosts started to fly doing loops and dips
and spectacular dives.
My shotgun fell to the floor and right at that time I
heard a knock at the door, just as those witches, goblins
and scary old ghosts passed by. I opened the door as
scared as I was and there stood a goblin not quite
four foot one. It opened its mouth as I shook on
my feet and out came a phrase
“Hi, Trick or Treat.”
© 2009 Charles Dennis
www.charlesdennispoetry.com
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 1:41 PM UTC
09-15-2012
Saturday morning and Grandpa rounded up the grand kids, Tony and Lucy, for a little excursion. Excitement was running high for we were going to the City Park and… there was to be hot dogs, burgers and drinks and STUFF, which they thoroughly enjoyed. Before we left on our fun-outing, I had printed out a copy of a poem I had written for Tony when he was a year old called "Ice Cream". He is now a big seven. There were many booths setup which we visited… gathering STUFF (pencils, etc).
We stopped at a booth that was for grandparents raising grandkids. While we talked with the lady at the booth I remembered the poem in my back pocket. I gave it to her to read and we continued on down the line gathering STUFF (pencils, candy and BUBBLES). On the return trip we stopped again at the grandparents booth. The lady commented, the poem brought tears to her eyes. Then she said, “this was written from the heart”. At that time Tony interjected with, “No. Grandpa just sits down and write them on the computer keyboard.” Yup! That is how it REALLY happens. There were chuckles and smiles all around. Tony is grandpa’s most ardent promoter for his web sight . He tells people the domain-name to find writings. There is one piece he particularly enjoys telling people to check out called "The Boy Called Tony" . Go figure!
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 11:38 AM UTC