The Traveled Man
Sometimes I wish the railroads all were torn out,
The ships all sunk among the coral strands.
I am so very weary, yea, so worn out,
With tales of those who visit foreign lands.
When asked to dine, to meet these traveled people,
My soup seems brewed from cemetery bones.
The fish grows cold on some cathedral steeple,
I miss two courses while I stare at thrones.
I'm forced to leave my salad quite untasted,
Some musty, moldy temple to explore.
The ices, fruit and coffee all are wasted
While into realms of ancient art I soar.
I'd rather take my chance of life and reason,
If in a den of roaring lions hurled
Than for a single year, ay, for one season,
To dwell with folks who'd traveled round the world.
So patronizing are they, so oppressive,
With pity for the ones who stay at home,
So mighty is their knowledge, so aggressive,
I ofttimes wish they had not ceased to roam.
They loathe the new, they quite detest the present;
They revel in a pre-Columbian morn;
Just dare to say America is pleasant,
And die beneath the glances of their scorn.
They are increasing at a rate alarming,
Go where I will, the traveled man is there.
And now I think that rustic wholly charming
Who has not strayed beyond his meadows fair.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Valentine Brown
Because all night my mind inclines to wander and to rave,
Because the English dogs have made Ireland a green grave,
Because all of Munster's glory is daily trampled down,
I have traveled far to meet you, Valentine Brown.
Because the might of Cashel is withered all away,
And the badger skulks in Brian's house, seeking out his prey,
And the laughing kings are all deprived of scepter and of crown,
I have traveled far to meet you, Valentine Brown.
Because the deer in Ross's wood run no longer free,
And the crows of death are croaking now on top of every tree,
And never a fish is seen to leap where mountain streams come down,
I have traveled far to meet you, Valentine Brown.
Demish ravaged in the west, her good lord gone as well,
Some foreign city has become our refuge and our hell.
Wounds that hurt a poet's soul can rob him of renown:
I have traveled far to meet you, Valentine Brown.
poem by Aogán Ó Rathaille
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The Road Less Traveled
(Buddy Brock/Dean Dillion)
There's a road a winding road that never ends
Full of curves lessons learned at every bend
Goin's rough unlike the straight and narrow
It's for those who go against the grain
Have no fear dare to dream of a change live to march to the beat of a
different drummer
And it all might come together
And it all might unraveled
On the road less traveled
For the road less traveled ain't for the faint of heart
For those who choose to play it safe and never stray too far
Me I want to live my life and one day leave my mark
And it all might come together
And it all come unraveled
On the road less traveled
I've chosen a pathway I may not endure
One thing's for certain nothing for sure
And it all might come together
And it all might come unraveled
On the road less traveled
For the road less traveled ain't for the faint of heart
For those who choose to play it safe and never stray too far
Me I want to live my life and one day leave my mark
And it all might come together
And it all come unraveled
On the road less traveled
There's a road winding road that never ends
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Day Traveler
Whenever I've traveled to a crowded city
I always think, 'Oh what a pity
to live in a city.'
For the skyscrapers there
so high in the air
have hidden the blue of the sky
except for the birds that fly.
The cold gray stone adorned with lights
never seem warm until the nights.
Their blinking neons can't compare
with the twinkling stars up in the air.
And again I think,
'Oh what a pity to live in the city.'
The hustle, the bustle and constant noise
have become for some the city's joys.
The screeching brakes, the honking sounds
is an abrupt assault to my head that pounds.
And again I think,
'Oh what a pity to live in a city.'
A one day visit and I'm ready to leave
and I know that I could never conceive
of being at home, never to roam
where the grass grows under my feet,
except for a country street
and again I think,
'Oh what a pity to live in a city.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Less traveled
Ruth followed Naomi into poverty. She stayed even though her sisters in law left. On the road less traveled. David became a young king. He almost got killed by king Saul. Who was jealous. David was Gods chosen one. On the road less traveled. Jesus was rejected by all even his own. Yet he died on a tree to save sinners and rose again so any one who repents can be immortal. On the road less traveled. Job had a lot of horrible things happen to him all around the same time. Yet he did not curse God and die. On the road less traveled. God helped Esther save all of her people. She is the living proof that God has a time for everything. On the road less traveled.
Old Folks at Home
1 Way down upon de Swanee ribber,
2 Far, far away,
3 Dere's wha my heart is turning ebber,
4 Dere's wha de old folks stay.
5 All up and down de whole creation,
6 Sadly I roam,
7 Still longing for de old plantation,
8 And for de old folks at home.
9 [Chorus] All de world am sad and dreary,
10 Ebry where I roam,
11 Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
12 Far from de old folks at home.
13 [Solo] All round de little farm I wandered
14 When I was young,
15 Den many happy days I squandered,
16 Many de songs I sung.
17 When I was playing wid my brudder
18 Happy was I --.
19 Oh! take me to my kind old mudder,
20 Dere let me live and die.
21 [Chorus] All de world am sad and dreary,
22 Ebry where I roam,
23 Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
24 Far from de old folks at home.
25 One little hut among de bushes,
26 One dat I love,
27 Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes,
28 No matter where I rove
29 When will I see de bees a humming
30 All round de comb?
31 When will I hear de banjo tumming
32 Down in my good old home?
33 [Chorus] All de world am sad and dreary,
34 Ebry where I roam,
35 Oh! darkeys how my heart grows weary,
36 Far from de old folks at home
poem by Stephen C. Foster
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Contentment In Life
I traveled the high road.
I traveled the low
and all of that traveling
wherever I'd go
never fulfilled me,
never at all.
It just kept me moving
and then came the wall.
'Stop! ' it said.
Where are you going?
You're following a road
and not even knowing
why?
'Sit down. Be still
and be content.
You've traveled long and far.
Now's the time to meditate
and realize who you are.
You do not have to follow a road.
The road will come to you.
The lesson in life that you must learn
is to thy own self be true.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Sometimes the road less traveled is less traveled for a reason.
quote by Jerry Seinfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As I traveled the world over, I traveled everywhere, and I learned so much.
quote by Robert Mondavi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drown
No matter where you are
I can still hear you when you drown
You've traveled very far
Just to see you I'll come around
When I'm down
All of those yesterdays
Coming around
No matter where you are
I can still hear you when you dream
You traveled very far
You traveled far
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from Greatest Hits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Way
And out isn't perfect
My friends I'll say it too
Stay my case of which I'm certain
I've lived a life as full
I've traveled each and every highway
Oh and more as more gets
I did it my way
Regrets I've had a few
But they're too few to mention
I did what I had
It's all through without exemption
I play each charted course
I've traveled each and every byway
And more much more than this
I did it my way
Well twice I'm sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
I knew it all without a doubt
I ate it up and I had to spit it out
I passed it on and I stood tall
And I did it my way
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I traveled enormously during the 1960's, when you measured everything by where you traveled and what you did as travelers.
quote by Anita Roddick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jenna's traveled with me; they've both traveled with their dad. This is the only time they've been old enough in all of their dad's campaigns to really be involved in.
quote by Laura Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A tale of two strangers
There were two strangers
Who met by the sea
She saw the light in him
And so did he
They said hello
Soon became friends
They talked of their lives
Till it was time to go
They took their boats
And each rowed away
Thinking of the other
And what was left unsaid
He took the high river
That traveled the cold lands
It was cold, gray and miserable
There was no one at hand
She took the low river
That traveled the wide plains
It was hot, dusty and humid
Every day, a drain
Soon there was a dark storm
That lashed o’er the lands
The dark lord's fury provoked
The rivers in turmoil
He rowed with all his might
But the current was too strong
The oar was soon broken
And the sails were torn
She rowed with all her might
But the current was too strong
The boat tossed, hit a rock
And the hull was blown
So both drifted along hurt and worn
Till the river calmed down
Soon the sea was approaching
But rescue there was none
As the high river and low river
Both merged with the waiting sea
The friends saw each other
With great relief
The currents drew the boats together
And it made sense to see
That his boat could use the oars from hers
And together they could reach
So they rowed together then
And rowed with delight
With the sun’s warmth on their backs
To reach land, now in sight
poem by Anita Atina
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Pearly Queen
By steve winwood and jim capaldi
I had a strange dream from a pearly queen,
And she could drink more wine than Ive ever seen.
She had some gypsys blood flowing through her feet,
And when the time was right she said that I would meet
My destiny.
I traveled round the world to find the sun.
I couldnt stop myself from having fun,
But when the time was right, the flowers grew
But they were made of silk and sequins, two by two.
I traveled round the world to find the sun.
I couldnt stop myself from having fun.
But when the time was right, the flowers grew
But they were made of silk and sequins, I would meet
My destiny.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those who visit foreign nations, but associate only with their own country-men, change their climate, but not their customs. They see new meridians, but the same men; and with heads as empty as their pockets, return home with traveled bodies, but untravelled minds.
quote by Charles Caleb Colton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Home
My home is calling
And my heart; responding
The abode of pleasures and exhilaration
Where my mind prepares for some missions
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
Am not among those who cry
Seeking for hope, but it's dry
Am a free man
Facing difficulties which is so hard
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
Do i look like a convict?
The one who cries in the prison
Or like the bee that flies
And returns with joy to it hive
No! But no! I am not
I don't crave for the monastery, I'm not a monk
All i want is to return back home
To stay with folks but not alone
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
I traveled abroad
I had much fun
I visited the queen
She offered me a tea
With all these pleasures
Without doubt cos am so sure
The home holds lot in hand
Treasures, happiness, so much to count
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
I went to Brazil
I saw their windmills
I ate their food
Which made me cool
Delicious was it their fried fish
The one i ate which made me wishing
Then i remember the panla which we eat at home
So delicious and irresistible for the hungry throat
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
I journeyed to Kenya
I saw a tiger
Its eyes scared me
Its claws; waiting for a meal
I rode on an elephant
So huge; so large
I saw lot of things
The zoo, the views
But still i craved
For my home; for my space
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep
I traveled all around the world
And everything seemed so bored
My eyes craved only for my beautiful home
My hands, my mouth and my little nose
They are all wishing to see
My house, my room, my folks in the street
All i have to do is go back home
To stay with folks and sleep on their foams
For wherever you are meant to be
Your home provides a beautiful space to sleep
My home, my home
My sweet, lovely home
I call on thee
Give me a space to sleep.
poem by Yahaya Habeeb Jprof Kayode
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The Lesson Learned
i have traveled so far
away
but i dare not ask myself
why
what am i looking for?
i know what i lack
i have mastered so well what i need
i have drawn in my heart
what may satisfy me and make me
silent
i can grab it from you
and from someone
else
but what is the use?
i have traveled so far
communed with the hills
rushed with the rivers
and make ends with
the sea
i have come back to tell you that
i am humbled
by what i have done
the past has told me what i must hear
and so here i am
giving up what i need
saying
i do not need anything
i have volunteered myself
for more sacrifices
and my heart is teaching me
what real wisdom is
it is not getting what i want
it is giving
what i can...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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American Game
So here it goes
The story of my life so I've been told
Get on follow boy or you'll be left out in the cold
But I dont give a damn
'Cause I know who I am
And you don't gotta understand
'Cause I can't change for no man
I chose to go along the road less traveled
I chose to go the road less traveled yeah
Chorus:
I play the American Game
But I don't play the same
I got my hat tipped down
I got my peace sign out
And I'm not gonna change
So here I am
Generation X now I'm happy as hell
'Cause I'm rockin' in here
On American soil, mmmm put it back
Because of you my friends
I can live my life and I can be
Free to be me
It's such a feeling to
Not have to give a damn
'Cause I know who I am
And ya'll don't gotta understand
'Cause I don't change for no man
'Cause I chose, to go along that road less traveled
I chose to go along the road less traveled
Chorus
I don't give a damn
'Cause I know who I am
But I don't play the same
I play the American Game
But I dont play the same
Chorus x2
I play the American Game
song performed by by O-town
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drive
Came here by car,
Not sure where here is.
But,
Arrived here, by car.
Traveled, so far,
To be here now.
But still,
Don't know where here is.
Rode in the fast lane, past,
Concrete avenues all lined
With suburban memorabilia
Seen the sunrise cross the asphalt
Trundled down country lanes, cattle tamed
Across war torn highways
Miles stretch out, as
The highway passes by
Feel I've been chasing
Down shadows,
Across endless plains
Have seen the broken hearts,
Through cracked windscreens.
Watched teardrops spatter,
Cross a dusty windshield
As a rainbow glistens
In the corner of my eye.
There's a reason these expressways,
Reach towards the horizon.
Have traveled here,
Came by car,
But
Don't know where
Here is.
Came here, by car.
Yet not sure where,
Here is.
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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Foreign Lands
You may roam the wide seas over, follow, meet, and cross the sun,
Sail as far as ships can sail, and travel far as trains can run;
You may ride and tramp wherever range or plain or sea expands,
But the crowd has been before you, and you’ll not find ‘Foreign Lands;’
For the Early Days are over,
And no more the white-winged rover
Sinks the gale-worn coast of England bound for bays in Foreign Lands.
Foreign Lands are in the distance dim and dreamlike, faint and far,
Long ago, and over yonder, where our boyhood fancies are,
For the land is by the railway cramped as though with iron bands,
And the steamship and the cable did away with Foreign Lands.
Ah! the days of blue and gold!
When the news was six months old—
But the news was worth the telling in the days of Foreign Lands.
Here we slave the dull years hopeless for the sake of Wool and Wheat
Here the homes of ugly Commerce—niggard farm and haggard street;
Yet our mothers and our fathers won the life the heart demands—
Less than fifty years gone over, we were born in Foreign Lands.
When the gipsies stole the children still, in village tale and song,
And the world was wide to travel, and the roving spirit strong;
When they dreamed of South Sea Islands, summer seas and coral strands—
Then the bravest hearts of England sailed away to Foreign Lands,
‘Fitting foreign’—flood and field—
Half the world and orders sealed—
And the first and best of Europe went to fight in Foreign Lands.
Canvas towers on the ocean—homeward bound and outward bound—
Glint of topsails over islands—splash of anchors in the sound;
Then they landed in the forests, took their strong lives in their hands,
And they fought and toiled and conquered—making homes in Foreign Lands,
Through the cold and through the drought—
Further on and further out—
Winning half the world for England in the wilds of Foreign Lands.
Love and pride of life inspired them when the simple village hearts
Followed Master Will and Harry—gone abroad to ‘furrin parts’
By our townships and our cities, and across the desert sands
Are the graves of those who fought and died for us in Foreign Lands—
Gave their young lives for our sake
(Was it all a grand mistake?)
Sons of Master Will and Harry born abroad in Foreign Lands!
Ah, my girl, our lives are narrow, and in sordid days like these,
I can hate the things that banished ‘Foreign Lands across the seas,’
But with all the world before us, God above us—hearts and hands,
I can sail the seas in fancy far away to Foreign Lands.
poem by Henry Lawson
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