2017 April PAD Challenge: Day 10

Well, we just made it in from Austin. 18 hours, but we’re back home, and the kids are all sleeping in their beds. Yay!

For today’s prompt, write a travel poem. Your poem can be about the process of traveling, planning to travel, vicariously traveling through television programs, or however else you’d like to take this prompt.

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Here’s my attempt at a Travel Poem:

“watching the tour”

watching the tour de france
is partially about the sport

both the physical endurance
& the cunning strategy

but it’s also about the views
of mountains & castles

& small villages filled
with people & stories

i’d one day like to visit

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Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He loves watching the Tour de France, but after 18 hours of driving, he’s looking forward to viewing the inside of his eyelids.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.

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402 thoughts on “2017 April PAD Challenge: Day 10

  1. Jane Shlensky

    Faraway Places

    We sang and longed to get away
    to anywhere there was no work,
    a sunlit place, the ocean blue,
    where we’d see nobody we knew.

    We fancied languages we’d speak,
    ourselves exotic, charming, kind
    to those we met, at work, at home
    while we could see new worlds and roam.

    We daydreamed, going field to field,
    our suntans born of grueling work,
    but we imagined some calm beach
    where only leisure hours reach.

    Back then travel was in the mind,
    in books and movies, myth and song.
    It did not then seem likely we
    would travel far afield and see

    those places we were dreaming of,
    those places calling calling us,
    but now I’m old, my album full
    of pictures born of that call’s pull.

    Europe, a pack upon my back,
    Asia, teaching English there,
    each hemisphere, each language group,
    I traveled often, on a loop.

    My home is filled with oddities
    picked up in Borneo or Rome,
    small talismans that I could pack
    and carry nestled on my back.

    My bucket list is still quite full
    of places I would like to see,
    of people I would like to meet,
    of people I would like to be.

  2. mschied

    Daydream Vacation

    As eyelash meets eyelash,
    my imaginary island hopping
    begins – no jet plane required
    First step: the isle of green
    fields as far as my vision lasts
    joining the horizon in a haze of confusion
    either land mist or sea spray
    difficult to determine from this distance
    then a whirlwind roundabout
    that gives my fantasies whiplash
    melting-pot Malta
    pastoral Guernsey,
    of potato-peel pie fame
    Spicy Singapore, culinary wonderland
    a pitstop at Puerto Rico
    then back home to my small
    island on the lake
    owned by the electric and gas company
    but mine for the taking
    as my illusory wanderlust
    takes wing and wheels away on the wind
    as I bask on the sunny sand
    and dream

  3. BDP

    Sijo #10: Season Migration

    Fourteen tundra swans land on lake and drift the way they came.
    As if they wonder why keep doing this: north to south to north.
    City gal back home in my canoe—they’re not disturbed, nor I.

  4. artifiswords

    ON THE TRAIN TO BARCELONA

    The train in Spain
    Breaks mainly
    On the plain…
    That’s what I said
    After it happened
    On a hot day in August
    As I chatted with a couple
    From Copenhagen

    My trip…a pilgrimage
    A long-postponed
    Viewing of a visionary…
    Antoni Gaudí…the architect’s
    Major works were there
    Finally…to see them in person

    On the long trek from Paris
    Between the Spanish border
    And my destination…
    The train slowed…then stopped
    Not another train to wait for
    Just awaiting a fresh engine
    I got the impression
    It wasn’t an unusual event
    But I’d go back
    In a heartbeat

    © 2017 Robert Mihaly

    Posted to:
    https://artifiswordpresscom.wordpress.com/2017/04/26/on-the-train-to-barcelona/

  5. Nancy Posey

    Nashville Road Trip, 1966.

    Long before the pedal taverns hosting
    bachelorettes, before the Gulch, back
    when massage parlors and hookers
    lined lower Broadway, we rode
    the two hours to Nashville, stopping
    to buy sacksful of Krystal burgers,
    a treat back then, before shopping
    for Easter bonnets, dresses, white gloves
    at Harvey’s Department Store, riding
    the only escalator we’d even seen
    to the floor that housed the carousel,
    carved wooden pastel painted horses.

    We knew nothing about the Parthenon,
    well lit in the center of her city park
    or the Grand Ole Opry—hillbilly music,
    my Daddy called it. We counted steeples
    riding in and out of town, marveled
    at the stacked stones walls, unaware
    they’d been built by slaves. We gaped
    at houses more like mansions than any
    we’d ever see in our hometown, where
    Nashville had already earned “It City”
    status for small-town girls like me.

  6. SharylAnn

    GYPSY

    My first six years
    of life were
    a series of
    moves …

    Twenty-three different towns
    not counting the towns we
    lived in more than one time

    We also traveled a lot
    during that time
    I would frequently
    wake up in a make-shift
    bed on our car’s backseat

    We were an almost
    professional traveling
    family …
    My father could pack the
    car trunk with expertise
    and precision to utilize
    every inch of space for
    a long road trip

    My mother made the most
    amazing traveling food …
    We rarely stopped except for
    gas, bathroom breaks or
    to refill the large Thermos
    of sweet black coffee

    We would drive from
    hours before dawn straight
    through four or five states
    to visit my dad’s family

    He of course did all the
    driving in those days and
    his stamina amazed me
    even as a child

    As a result of my childhood
    I have been a bit of
    a wanderlust …
    a Gypsy …
    who loves going to new
    places or revisiting favorite
    childhood destinations …

    Copyright © 2017 Sharyl
    Always…I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you Love.
    As Ever, Sharyl

  7. kathyk671

    Day 10 – Travel

    “Parthenon”

    Athena once looked down
    Upon her city
    From the perch of her temple
    Parthenon.

    Her great likeness filled
    The inner court,
    Behind the alabaster columns
    Standing tall.

    A giant statue of a
    Goddess now lost in time
    A memory of the greatness
    That was Greece.

    Today, a tourist pays a guide
    Who tells tales of the
    Ancients who walked
    This high ground.

    The crumbling columns now
    A landmark, a place to
    Pinpoint where you are
    And where you’re going.

    Every rooftop bar
    In Athens boasts a
    Sacred view of
    Athena’s mighty temple.

    So you can sip
    Your wine and admire
    The sight of
    The cradle of civilization.

  8. pmwanken

    NIGHT TRAVELS
    by Paula M. Wanken

    beneath a blanket
    of a star-filled sky

    my heart soars

    on a spotlight
    of moonbeams

    ///
    Cheating slightly to catch up, this is a mash-up of the “travel” and “anti-form” prompts.

  9. bookworm0341

    “2,310 miles to go”

    It is so easy to jump in a car
    And go almost anywhere.
    Not so in a plane.
    Unless, you own your own,
    Or are filthy, stinkin’ rich.
    So goes life.

    If only
    I could hop in a car
    And drive from PA to AZ
    On a daily basis
    I miss you
    My Superman

    I miss your touch
    every single day.
    I don’t tell you
    Because you told me
    That you will never need anyone
    And I feel silly needing you

    I miss your smell
    Your shirt doesn’t smell
    Like you any more
    Take it back
    And send me a new one
    Recently worn by you

    I miss your taste
    On my lips
    All of it.
    As you look down at me
    With your approving
    Deep Brown eyes

    Soon. You say.
    Soon. I won’t have to leave.
    Until then, I travel
    My mind and my dreams
    Are always spent
    With you

    Jennifer M. Terry
    April 10, 2017
    PAD 10: Travel

  10. bookworm0341

    “2,310 miles to go”

    It is so easy to jump in a car
    And go almost anywhere.
    Not so in a plane.
    Unless, you own your own,
    Or are filthy, stinkin’ rich.
    So goes life.

    If only
    I could hop in a car
    And drive from PA to AZ
    On a daily basis
    I miss you
    My Superman

    I miss your touch
    every single day.
    I don’t tell you
    Because you told me
    That you will never need anyone
    And I feel silly needing you

    I miss your smell
    Your shirt doesn’t smell
    Like you any more
    Take it back
    And send me a new one
    Recently worn by you

    I miss your taste
    On my lips
    All of it.
    As you look down at me
    With your approving
    Deep Brown eyes

    Soon. You say.
    Soon. I won’t have to leave.
    Until then, I travel
    My mind and my dreams
    Are always spent
    With you

  11. barbc

    The Journey

    Haven’t been home in a year or more
    Don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow
    Runnin’ down this dusty road
    into the midnight sun.
    We drifted apart
    through space and time
    It goes on
    and on.
    Run.

    This found poem was written in response to the Poetic Asides prompt for April 10, asking for a poem about travel. All lines are taken from song lyrics sung by the band Journey, including lines from “Don’t Stop Believin’,” “Faithfully,” “Open Arms” and “Wheel in the Sky.” The form is a variation on the “melting snowball” with each successive line having one less syllable than the line preceding it.

  12. Linda Hatton

    Untraveled

    I store you in a canvas shopping bag
    on my bedroom floor. You, cut
    and scattered—I tried to piece you
    back together—stitch you,
    fold you, situate you gently
    inside my travel case,
    but your odds
    and ends
    I could not prefabricate.
    You’re a pattern
    with lost pieces,
    a garment
    that’s become
    quite a bore.
    So, I leave you there
    on my bedroom floor
    to remember
    who I don’t want
    to wear anymore.

    1. Linda Hatton

      Sheesh. I need to learn to post on my blog first. LOL. [Edited version below.]

      Un(t)raveled

      I store you in a canvas shopping bag
      on my bedroom floor. You, cut
      and scattered—I tried to piece you
      back together—stitch you,
      fold you, situate you gently
      inside my travel case,
      but your odds
      and ends
      I could not
      prefabricate.

      You’re a pattern
      with lost pieces,
      a garment
      that’s become
      quite a bore.
      So, I leave you there
      on my bedroom floor
      to remember
      who I don’t want
      to wear anymore.

  13. _Kirk_

    Trip

    Wherever home will be, soon,
    there too will be my curved skin, my skeleton
    and intimacy, diplomacy, a vacancy
    left by belonging to anything.
    The segregation of prospect:
    a dwelling 
carved out in relief
    from the negative space.

  14. SarahLeaSales

    Tallahassee, 10 Apr 2017

    She thought she had come too far to change her mind,
    but the choice she had made for the good of her family,
    would not limit the choices she could make;
    for majors did not determine the only thing she could do—
    it simply paved the way to greater things.

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