Since these are the Summer months and many people are enjoying their holidays, I thought travel would be the perfect theme for this week’s features. However, travelling can be done in many ways: we travel to other places, inside and out, we travel with people, we watch other people travel through their lives and we talk of our journeys and impart the wisdome we have gained.
We’re starting with the ‘normal’ trip to another country, another place… Venice – wonderful all year round.
There is something about travel that brings about the best or worst in us. This is the best, when you help your fellow traveller.
so the forms are made,
lines and colours
create the different shapes.
i can hold this,
sit down, this can be shared
ages wither and fade in time
we learn to prop up the old ones,
learn that our time will come.
you will never see the things
i have seen
the canyon was once a stream,
and i will see what will come
as my skin is still young.
let me take this for a while
season this moment with courage,
let us both taste, now,
the beauty of our lives.
We take trips not just without, but within where there’s a whole universe (maybe many of them) which are well worth seeing…
That’s where the greatest disoveries are made – within.
IT ENDS WITHIN! by © cosimopiro
It ends here!
So… I offer this,
my battered armour,
my sword sheathed in its place of rest,
and I take up in their place instead
a pen and flimsy paper
to wrap you in the words of a condemned man
who finally found his voice.
I am a condemned man;
condemned by religious bigotry,
condemned by political agendas,
condemned by social class,
condemned by racial slurs.
I stand before you
judged by fear and hate,
cast out to the fringes
before the trial began.
In fact I was condemned before I was born;
condemned by the DNA of sin,
condemned by the past guilt of ancestors,
condemned by the stories of conquerors,
condemned by the swift hands of injustice.
I was born with the mark of a devil
and a crown of thorns
embedded deep in my psyche…
…such abuse should never be placed
upon the heads of innocence…
As a child I was told,
“Harden your heart,
toughen your skin,
tighten your grip,
don’t rock the boat, son,
toe the line, boy,
It’s a tough world out there,
no place for dreamers or losers!”
… and I never questioned who made it thus…
… but it is us
who carry the lies and deceits of monarchs, pontiffs, and generals,
we who question not
those who command our youth into wars,
who even in peace time
sit on their golden thrones
and feed us crumbs to keep us pecking.
… cut me and I’ll bleed,
break my heart and I’ll cry,
threaten me and I’ll be fearful,
but put me in shackles?
I WILL BREAK FREE!
For although I am steeped in condemnation
and I am guilty of silent resignation,
I’LL BE DAMNED
IF I’LL CARRY THIS CURSE ANY FURTHER!
IT… ENDS… HERE!
Sometimes we find a fellow traveller to share some of the distance with us…
and sometimes we find ourselves alone again, to travel onwards to new destinations.
someone by © Nathan Emery
someone please turn off the sound
because i’m so damn tired
eyes are heavy
and i’m worn down
so please love or hate me now-
because falling off
is scarier than jumping off.
the days are blurring together
into what feels like seconds
and i hate it.
god how i hate it.
everyone is leaving-
oh wait that’s me
and maybe i’m just waiting
for someone to take my hand
and pull me away
from the ledges i always get lost on.
but now i’m rotting
in ten story air.
i wish someone
would just tell me the god damn truth
cause i’m so sick
of second guessing the world
when all I want
is someone to love.
and it feels like tonight will be
the last time i will ever breathe
in your company
and i can’t do anything about it
until it’ll be too late,
cause i’ve always lived
a few minutes behind.
it’s this air i breathe;
i swear somedays it’s poison
and makes my stomach empty
like the words i say.
but i hope someday
someone will hold my hand
and give me an escape;
into their eyes and heart,
and maybe climb the walls
When we’re young it’s easy to seize the day, and make every second last a life time. It comes naturally.
It’s when we get older that we listen for the silence and our place in it.
It is the space in-between a smile and a goodbye. A word and the page it is no longer on.
Silence is a mouth interrupted. A hug halfway through. An arm around the waist for a second.
It is the last three words of a sentence cut short. Because no one was listening anyway.
Silence is an unsent letter.
It is signing your name by listening too hard.
Silence is a siren on what must be a busy street, the clatter of what must’ve been a misplaced dish, the beep beep beep of a dial tone.
Silence is when you hear the most
Because you’re listening so hard
For something else.
We watch our children start on their journeys and we hope and we pray.
We treasure every moment of all the time we spent together and hope for more.
I Have Only Met You by © kashmirecho
I have only met you
Only known you a short while
And already you are leaving
Traveling across the country
To start a new journey
In a new place
Let’s hope our time apart
Is short in the scheme of things
And that we will see each other again
And spend many more moments together
Making splendid memories
As we have already done
We try to impart some knowledge and wisdom before our ways part.
And, once we go on different journeys, what is left but travel within to find ourselves.
I would do anything for
but what do I
when the thing I have
the tables have turned
and the question becomes
not what do I do with
but what [the heck]
do I do
I hope you enjoyed the journey. Please tell the artists and leave a comment on their pages if you liked what you saw. Have a lovely weekend!