Eva

People and places- the perpetual ever changing ever pacening movement of the meet and greet. The welcomes and goodbyes and the long winded alley ways we trapse en route to trains and busses that will transport us to lands far, far, far, far away. And we smile in these times because we have to- because we must- because it is the only way forward and as the sun sets- the orange smimering ball of life that descends bringing light to the night- we lean back and exhale gently under the stars. Smoke spirals smoothly- the moon looks down: And you look beautiful

The Final Walk

Part 1

I sit in Vientiene
Mulling over more adventurs that can be counted on two hands.
Girls, Boys and Ancient wonders-
I smile for none of it was bland.
Sure im penniless, dirty and thirsty,
but perhaps these are by-products of an amazing journey.
Four Kilometres from the airport it appears I shall walk-
But I would trade the 5 dollar tuk tuk ride for many of the conversations I have talked.
Eva, the French girl whose five minute chat had been filled with grandour and wonder,
these memories are irreplaceable,
and the slight level of discomfert was certainly worth their nature.
Oh dear!-
Are these clouds looming?
Thunder plagued with promises of ruin?
Perhaps we shall see-
in the time that comes-
but for right now the apple in my bag gives hope for the mightly final lunge.
And so off down the road...off we set,
for the looming period of transit in Bangkok fills me with dread.
Perhaps I shall write poems dark and sinister-
like an evil lady-
like a spinster.
Ho-Ho! To be young in this world fills me with glee-
for at the end of the day we are young...and we are free

Part 2

Off down the road and towards the gloom I stride,
but the fact that I can smile fills me with pride.
The heavens slowly open and on my cheek she begins to trickle,
slowly she falls-
the night she becomes visible.
What!
Who is that in the distance!
What surreal path has lead to this meaningfull existance?
Oliver!- James, Leo and Adam shout from down the road-
for these are some of the best people,
blessed is the backpack- are we not all somehow lost in its mighty code?
Last left in Cambodia...but now one final goodbye,
Though I know I will see them in the future-
for James-blessed in his words and prose will surely join the rest at the end of the year,
the adventure beginning again halfway around the globe.
Adu Adu and goodbye for now-
for we all smile and the planes light the sky,
looking northwards-
the ever amazing
POWWWW!

Beautiful

Beautiful

Somewhere two hours outside of Vientiene

Amongst the tangles and divisions that the roads use to divide small towns
and chicken rice and vegetable stands;
we plod along on this blue battered bus that should deliver us to Vientiene.
In these parts sleep is often a man's best friend-
though the quietly spoken dogs would have liked to revoke that stand,
it is the former that will slowly but surely deliver us unto our timely end.
The end of a trip- the momentary elapsment when the freedoms of a backpack
will show their slip.
From Vientiene to Hanoi will be impossible I am sure,
for the hour is getting late and those who attempt to keep the time-
the schedules of the bus lines-
rarely cease to wait.
And so it appears one final adventure will pronounce-
but not bore-
maybe down through thailand- the final race- limited money- hardly anytime,
may the pieces of the puzzle continue their friendly placement in the never ending line.

yo quiero

Sobre la vida, las personas, el amor- de todo!
Pero especialamente quiero escribir sobre mis viajes

?- Karoeke -?

Kindred spirits rekindled- fired in life's room- reborn again- are we not statues?- all statues frozen for waiting and then awoken? Same traits but time changes all- the lights zoomed though we kept walking. Enjoyable- we were indifferent to earths sufferings. Friends once more- tired now I sleep once more- and then?

Ode to M83- Skin of the night

Streams of light splashed soft and deflected from mirrored water and you sat there- moon drenched in the stillness and amazing subtlesness of it all. And features plunged into soft struck darkness you would stare- stare out over the lake, the ice and the land. For the want- sometimes- is only appeased through prolonged loneliness- though. Pure. When ones sense of ones self deflects like a rocks chipped fragment- something disregarded- and though these times of inner searching- bouts of self reflection through inner sanctums- and the rest- we come out with the knowledge that light- clear starlet light!- is always on the horizon. But return to you- sitting on the Ice-frozen lake (why? seems appropriate)- through what frames do we view this subject? How perceive? Cast away feelings of want- instead achieve. Humanity seems so afraid of obtaining the things they desire- perhaps this is where beauty lies and honesty. They hold hands- the forbidden dance. That's it! So she just gets up from history and replaces the cold empty loneliness- now rustled in wind- for fires- that ever burn- where are they found? In him. Where do we find it? Wherever we desire- exactly- like we spoke before- its just a frame of mind after all.

Yes

And then there were times on trains when we thought of the goings of planes and the pains that had come with these games of modern day vanishment. Would we really look back and trade these conceivable acts for mundane cars, houses and nick nacks? We arrived at the station and shook our heads and smiles cracked from the corners of lips and we slipped down the aisles and back out towards the sunshine, the people and the countries miles. We moved on- never to be seen again...and we laughed and whooped until our heads span. x