For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length--and there I travel looking, looking breathlessly.
Carlos Castaneda in The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Midnight Traveler
Dark hair
Blue eyes
A heart so full of lies
You travel around at night
In the moonlight
I hear you cry
But I never ask why
Because I know your to proud
Which is something I understand
Loud and clear
I know your full of sadness
Your heart is full of fear
And that is why you travel
To get away from all this madness.
poem by Kelli D. Williams
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The Path of Hope
The Path of Hope
The Path of Life is layed before you
Life is like a novel…It has elements
It has Characters
It has Settings
It has a Plot
It has Ideals and Morals
Like Friendship and Love
Like Faith and Sacrifice
Like Fate and Destiny
Like Hope and Despair
There are Paths…Paths of your destiny
The Path of Good or The Path of Evil
The Path of Darkness or The Path of Light
The Path of Hope or The Path of Despair
Only you can choose your path
But chose wisely…For you can’t turn back time
You must follow your heart…For it will guide you
Never give up on your dreams
Always Believe…Trust your heart
Don’t let the bad people get you down
Just Believe,
Trust your Heart,
Have Faith in your Dreams,
Have Hope in the Despair,
Follow the Light in the Darkness
Find the Euphoria in the Sorrows,
Trust your Friends,
Follow the Stars…They will Guide you
May the Stars be a Light for you when all other Lights go out
Life is like a Novel…
poem by Bleeding Heart
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Do You Really Want to Know Me?
if you know what a river is
perhaps you will know a man
i am a man and you will say to the river
i have known a man and i have known a river
there is no way that i will never you in full
you shall brag to the clouds in your mind
they drift
there is no permanence
permanence is an illusion
a river
a cloud
water
air
and this is where we must start
educating air
if you step upon my heart and tell me
i have know everything about you and you must not change and that is what you are
you are wrong
for i am a river that encircles a mountain
but i know a path but the paths do not know me
and so i keep on moving
changing paths and what path was it that you have seen yesterday
is no longer the path now
you must accept you have never known a river
because a river is man
and man is not forever man
he is a river that always escapes the hold of your mind
that frame that has walls
without even the possibility of another opening for stars....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Touches
How can I touch,
touch my God?
How many ways,
can my God touch me?
How can I see,
see Him with clarity?
How can my God,
in his world see me?
Along the paths I travel,
how can I tell?
My God walks with me?
What sign will He foretell?
When I reach out,
reach out through pain.
Will my God reach down,
take my pain, let me sustain?
How can I know,
when fear robs my sight?
Will my God really lead me,
‘til finally I depart the night?
Each creation I caress,
my God I touch lovingly.
Each prayer I find answered,
my God, has touched me.
When in darkness I grope,
His sun allows me to see.
I know in my heart,
my God never, lost sight of me.
Traveling my paths,
breezes ruffle each tree.
A sure sign my God tells me,
I walk not alone you see.
As I reach out, sightless and lost.
When I see a path open to me.
A warmth wraps my soul,
I’m sure, God caressed me you see.
When I am blinded by doubt,
cold fear has taken my sight.
He whispers to me, “I will lead you.”
I am sure, I’ll be led to His golden light.
27Jan09
poem by Kurt Hearth
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The Frosty Poets Lonely Road
Two paths in the yellow woods,
said the Frosty poet should,
we travel the beaten road?
or shall we brave the lonely path?
the path of Artists Thieves and Rulers
Where our path will lead us
none shall know,
Until we get there we shan't but guess our future,
for the Artist's muse is fickle,
the Thieves' mark secure,
and the Ruler's people irate,
we who travel the lonely path,
will sow our own specific seed,
and should we persist and perceive,
we shall reap the fruits indeed.
poem by Atticus Mortimer
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Love Of My Heart
My Heart is something that gives me life
My Heart feeds and nurtures as if it were my wife
My Heart is kind and loving down to the last drop
My Heart keeps me going not wanting to stop
My Heart has a pulse to it unlike anything in this universe
My Heart gives me strength in the hardest traverse
My Heart gives me structure in such an unstructured place
My Heart beats at an insurmountable pace
My Heart bonds me together so that nothing could tear it apart
My Heart is something I loved right from the start
You Yes! ! ! ! You. Are My Heart
poem by Chidiebere Franklin
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Paths 2
Some paths lead to dead ends,
some lead to pastures new,
but whatever path you take
it is always up to you.
Some paths are filled with beauty
colourfully decorated on either side.
Some paths are not so cheerful
and gloom hangs from every branch.
Some paths are well worn
where many feet have gone through.
Some paths have not been ventured on
and these always hold something new,
but whatever path you take
it is always up to you.
26 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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Brea
my reflection
grabs and pulls me under
heat me what else to be
bathed in brea
guide me safely in
worlds ive never been to
shield me
heal me
my dear brea
mull around
it's alright
heal me
heal me
my dear brea
show me lonely and
show me openings to
bring me closer to you
my dear brea
mull around
it's alright
opening to
heal
opening to
heal
heal
heal
song performed by by A Perfect Circle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brea
my reflection
grabs and pulls me under
heat me what else to be
bathed in brea
guide me safely in
worlds ive never been to
shield me
heal me
my dear brea
mull around
it's alright
heal me
heal me
my dear brea
show me lonely and
show me openings to
bring me closer to you
my dear brea
mull around
it's alright
opening to
heal
opening to
heal
heal
heal
song performed by by A Perfect Circle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Travelling down memory lane
Traveling down memory lane
is not all black 'n white.
Traveling down memory lane
is not all lacking light.
Traveling down memory lane
is not eye filled with tears.
Traveling down memory lane
brings fresh and soothing air.
Traveling down memory lane
is love & pain, fun with friends.
Traveling down memory lane
is full of curves and bends.
Traveling down memory lane
is a test of time and mind
Traveling down memory lane
is a joy of it's kind.
poem by Ralph Acosta
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Life and Traveling
Traveling can be fun right? But what does it mean to travel?
Does it mean that your mind is gone or is it your body?
When you think about traveling, you think oh I can go some where and have fun. Do people travel to get away from others or do they travel to get away from themselves?
Do people really mean that they want thier body or thier mind to travel?
I guess it just depends on the place and time and whom you are with...
03-23-10
poem by Kristen Palmitier
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The Magic of the Breeze – 32 I used to travel by train
I used to travel by train
Previously too – The travel
At night, the distant lights
The stars in sky, hopeful dreams
The sound of thundering wheels
Singing a song to the rhythm
Of the beat of the heart of steel
The rush of the wind
Standing by the door
I used to think what means all this
The fury and sound, the very travel
The people I used to meet or travel with
No one has been able to erase the sadness
Or ease the pain I feel when traveling
I used to feel all alone by the door
And life speeding by towards the end.
I have enjoyed my travel too
In groups with friends now far apart
I remember days gone by never to come
But, however long the distance
I used to stand at least half the time.
With you I now sit and enjoy
It is no longer a pain
Before travel was business
Travel was necessary and unavoidable
It was an escape sometimes
Just the act of traveling – running away
But, I always had to come back
And face life alone, just alone.
Now, you have shown me
The other side of travel by train
The train is still the train
The people, crowd all are the same
But yet not the very same,
You and I, no one else I see
Time, with it all people, the crowd
Are frozen in time and none exists
Other than just the two of us
I myself am in a dream till the end
Drinking the air and feeling
The breeze and you fill each cell
I no longer think, I only wait
To feel the brush of your touch
And the kiss of the breeze!
poem by Angelina Pandian
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The Paths
The path to destruction is invisible,
It is travelled on by the wise,
Giving an enterprise to behold,
Like a gesture too meek.
The paths are long and hard,
In one complete stroke you have moved,
In a single movement the damage is received
As the paths lead to roads leading to fatigue.
This path we allow on the rest of the world
Is narrow and far too long to achieve,
Success needed wending like a path,
A meandering path carried a difference.
Only a road is higher than a path
For it is tortuous in a full condition,
Its heavenly splendour is exciting
Like the eating of apples attached to a tree.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Morning Is Full
The morning is full of storm
in the heart of summer.
The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of goodbye,
the wind, traveling, waving them in its hands.
The numberless heart of the wind
beating above our loving silence.
Orchestral and divine, resounding among the trees
like a language full of wars and songs.
Wind that bears off the dead leaves with a quick raid
and deflects the pulsing arrows of the birds.
Wind that topples her in a wave without spray
and substance without weight, and leaning fires.
Her mass of kisses breaks and sinks,
assailed in the door of the summer's wind.
(a pablo neruda collection)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lifes path
There are so many paths in life
I guess I could say
I ve walked them all
The right path
The wrong path
The path of pain
The path of good
The path of bad
Which path do I now take
At this present time of life
The path I take is the path of pain.
The path of hurt
So many paths I have walked
But im lost in the path
The path of pain
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Tryin To Get To You
(words & music by c. singleton - r.m. mccoy)
Ive been traveling over mountains
Even through the valleys, too
Ive been traveling night and day
Ive been running all the way
Baby, trying to get to you.
Ever since I read your letter
Where you said you loved me true
Ive been traveling night and day
Ive been running all the way
Baby, trying to get to you
When I read your loving letter
Then my heart began to sing
There were many miles between us,
But they didnt mean a thing.
I just had to reach you, baby,
In spite of all that Ive been through.
I kept traveling night and day,
I kept running all the way,
Baby, trying to get to you.
Well if I had to do it over
Thats exactly what Id do,
I would travel night and day,
And Id still run all the way,
Baby, trying to get to you.
Well, theres nothing that could hold me
Or that could keep me away from you
When your loving letter told me
That you really loved me true
Lord above me knows I love you
It was he who brought me through,
When my way was dark as night,
He would shine his brightest light,
When I was trying to get to you.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The path we have chosen for the present is full of hazards, as all paths are. The cost of freedom is always high, but Americans have always paid it. And one path we shall never choose, and that is the path of surrender, or submission.
quote by John F. Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My...
Heart of…
Heart of my heart,
Heart of my dream,
Heart of my hope.
The path…
The path of good-byes,
The path of heart ache,
The path of what was never meant to be,
The path of me.
The truth…
The truth of no truth,
The truth of what it was,
The truth of the past,
The truth of fear.
My good-bye…
My heart…
My path…
My truth…
My...
poem by Andrea Szyhowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stable Path
The last red rose on the arch has faded,
The border has mourned for its last white flower;
The dahlias droop where the frost has raided,
The grass is wet with an autumn shower;
Dull are the paths with their leaf-strewn gravel,
Cold is the wind as it wanders by,
Still there's a path that a man can travel
Happy at heart though the roses die.
The path to the stable!- Though summer be ended,
Though down through the garden no bird be astir,
This path has new melodies tunefully blended-
The flick of a whip with the clink of a spur!
So-on through the yew-trees where shadows strike chiller,
Across the paved courtyard, at last to the stall
Where, pawing in eagerness, chained on the pillar
Stands, champing his bit-bars, the Pearl of them All!
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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My heart is flowing
My heart is full of love
My heart is full of joy
My heart is full of happiness
just like you feel on happy days
My heart needs tender and care
just like you need
My heart needs loving
just like you would need
My heart is fragile
So please don't break it
My heart needs you
just like you would need me
My heart cries for you
just as you cry for me
My heart hates being broken
by unwanted people
My heart is like a river
that flows and flows
poem by Ricky Baker
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