Moses
The people are fed up
with eating manna
which is like getting
putu porridge every day
and somewhere it passes
being nice
and they want some meat
to roast on the coals.
The scouts sneak back
to were we camp
and only two are convinced
that we can win the battle
and can conquer a country
where there is milk and honey.
The others are sure
that we will come undone
against giants of ten feet ten
and we have to find another way
even if it’s through the desert.
Still the cloud glows hot at dusk
where it hangs above the camp
and I see red,
orange and pink colours.
The staff is sturdy in my hand
and there is silence at night
and I see God’s stars
appearing one after the other
against the heavenly sky
while I wonder
what to do with these stubborn people
since the desert is hot and dry.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Porridge At The Pub
I had my breakfast this morning at a pub in our town,
But my experience there left my face with a massive frown.
I ordered some porridge, topped with banana and honey,
But, despite it being cheap, it was not worth the money.
With me, the bowlful of porridge was not a massive hit,
Because I found eating it, was like eating a bowlful of grit.
The oats and milk, I found, were far from very well mixed:
Though I'm sure this is a problem that can be easily fixed.
On top of that, I thought the porridge tasted a little bit weird,
So, by me, my bowlful of porridge didn't get totally cleared.
About my breakfast experience, I did not like to complain,
But I won't be eating porridge at that particular pub again.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disjointed Pieces, Bits Of Torn
Disjointed pieces, bits of torn
And butchered flesh, strewn randomly
Around a battle field of smoking dun:
These, these present verses, so I willed
So my Muse willed dictating to my mind
Sub-conscious all unconsciously:
She led me to the desert, and there
Parched and burnt
I asked her for her water which she gave
I imbibed it without a look at it:
And in the night the cold fell from the skies
And in the night the desert vultures came
And in the night the desert wolves did howl
And in the night the desert strangeness came
Appearing like a mist, a restless ghost:
And in the night the cold fell from the skies.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Texas Desert Heaven
There's no tree,
As far as I can see,
The cactus are always green.
There's alot of sand,
But oh man,
This is my Texas desert heaven.
The stars are nice and bright,
The moon shines over desert sky at night,
That's My Texas desert night.
It's like being in Heaven,
When it rains it smells so great.
This is where my heart roams and stays,
This is My Texas Desert Heaven.
poem by Christina Muniz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Simple Simon
Simon found love, in love he thinks he found himself
Only has a heart for her and her alone
He walks down crowded streets and doesn't feel alone
Oh, never alone
Walks in space with his feet firmly on the ground
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Well she's just a simple girl, yeah
Spends her time on crossword games and cigarettes, ah
She lives all alone in a military zone where sam's can't get in
Facts and evidence, she probably give you no clues away
No clues away
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon found love, in love he thinks he found himself
Only has a heart for her and her alone
He walks down crowded streets and doesn't feel alone, oh never alone
Walks in space with his feet firmly on the ground
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Camp on love sign people I talk about
Johnny knows love song people I talk about
Simon, oh oh oh
Simon, oh oh oh
Submitted by Michael Hack
song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nine Eleven Zero One (misplaced poem)
(09/13/11)
Two days before my birthday
The united states was attacked
By a band of terrorists
That threw this country back.
Never in our history did another
Country come into ours.
Bringing destruction and death
Like a thunderous shower.
They say they did it for ALLAH
Which I find it hard to believe
That GOD, no matter what he may
Be known as, would tell people
To kill one another - knowing that
there are so many who are sister and brother.
So many different religions, so many
Different beliefs, would not do this
To put a country in grief.
A war whether it be declared or not
Have soldiers meet on a battlefield.
There is no honor when you sneak
Up on another and thrust a knife in their back.
Maybe this is the reason it’s called a sneak attack.
They are convinced that martyrs they will be
And that they will LIVE - in their country’s history.
If it is six months from now, or twenty years from now
Their names will never be remembered or put on a plaque
The cards are against them, its already been stacked.
We will find the origin from where they came
And their country s life will never be the same.
So to the supporters of this terrorist attack
We will search for you, there’ll be no turning back.
poem by Louis Rams
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I went into the wide world
I went into the wide world
and everywhere
where I could
stood on snow white beaches
reconnoitred the blue ocean,
hillocks and hills,
saw plains
and in the desert
white skeletons
of animals that disappeared,
encountered and learned to know people
said farewell to others
and experienced every thing
that I wanted
and still tried to keep
to that which is good,
held different banknotes
in my hand
and paid a price for a living
and took pieces out of my humanity,
when I realized
that yesterday, today and tomorrow
really are the same
with a sun that appears
and disappears at its time,
stars shining on the heavenly dome
and fleeing for the blue,
that there always are people
that cares for each other
and likes you
and that some dislikes you
who leaves pain and discomfort,
that we are sometimes happy,
exuberant, mournful
or sad
and try too hard
to buy every minute
of life before it passes
and that the course of life
is tied to its own time
and farewells
sometimes lies just around the corner,
that people are human
and stand
at the feet of God
for whom a thousand years
passes like a single day.
poem by Gert Strydom
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At the red sea
In the distance he see them coming,
war chariots filling the horizon
and the rumbling of horse hooves
are getting louder
as they are getting nearer.
Caught between the deep blue sea
and the desert
men, women and children stand
around him
and fear is in their eyes
for the vengeance of Pharaoh
who regards himself equal to God.
They glance away
from the cloud that gives shelter
and the morning’s manna
that was sweet on their lips,
are also already forgotten
and most are truly convinced
that he is leading them
to utter destruction.
Horses neigh a lot closer
when he hits the sea
with his mighty staff,
the sea cleave open
and walls of water glide away
and gather at two sides
till a dry road
leads right through to the other side.
There are thunder rumbling ominous
from the cloud above them
and a strong eastern wind
spraying water
like vapours of rain from the sea
and blowing it to the enemy.
While Pharaoh and his soldiers
witnesses these things
they come at speed
following the path through the sea
and in the middle of the waters
they begin to sink in
and the last
of his people are through
and he lift his eyes up
to where more lightning bolts
now come from the column of cloud.
Then he reaches his hand out
over the red sea
and hold that mighty staff
into the air
and everywhere
thunder hits reaching over the sea
and suddenly walls of water break
with angry power
and enemy chariots, horsemen,
horses and men are gone,
covered by water
and every one there
know from where
their salvation comes.
[Reference: Exodus 14: 1-31.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The City Vs. The Country
In the city where the colours run dry,
Or in the country where the farmers grow rye.
In the city where there are fees,
Or in the country where beauty is free.
In the city where there are loud crowds,
Or in the country where you can watch clouds.
In the city where you camp out in your room,
Or in the country where you have fun dancing with a broom.
In the city where there are polluting cars,
Or in the county where you can see stars.
In the city where you seal the deal,
Or in the country where you can heal.
In the city where you say later,
Or in the country where you can see the water.
In the city where space is tight,
Or in the country where you hold their hand in the moonlight.
Written by Haley McRae,14.
poem by Haley McRae
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Promised Land
I stand on this bare rock
The land of milk and honey
Solid and soft
Gaia at my feet
Lost and wandering
In silence of night
Full moon bright
I am from the dust of stars
And a child of the dirt
A desert breeze
Whispers the prophets' lies
Carrying the warriors cries
As they lay dying
Their banners fallen
West is the Promised Land
But in the east Venus is rising
From the mountain
A new dawn dawning.
The squatter’s camp
White, black, coloured and Indian children
play along the stinking tributary
where drain water sewers in
and try to catch
small frogs and crabs here and there
while the sun hangs exhausting
next to the squatter’s camp.
People working for daily wages
walks along tiredly
in the late afternoon
and wonder where to find food
for the next day
while snot and spittle
run from the noses and mouths
of the playing children
and flies circle
around them.
In the distance thunder roars
from a nearing storm
and the air is steely grey
and everybody knows
that nobody will tonight be dry,
but a boy points to a rainbow
that hang bright
with beautiful colours in the sky
and speechless the people look
at the marvel
from the hand of God
and it’s really difficult times.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Solitude In Desert
Nobody is left alone
All are accompanied by spirits
That takes no forms
That pervade the universe!
The sea is not alone
She is keeping in her womb
As much children count innumerable
She talk to sun
Even at the hot-point
And delight him at dawn and dusk!
The ocean never meditate
As she violates the silence
And keep lamenting always
Worried over the yet to born
Children in her large womb.
The desert never complain
Of the scorching sun
But like to converse all along
To ease his tension!
The desert keep company
With the wind, sun, moon
And the stars and horizon
Who never break the silence
And so the desert has solitude!
The rivers run down
To the depths of the oceans
Not listening
The gestures of ravines
As she is running
With rush to evaporate
To the heavens to take shape
Of weeping clouds to rain
Again and again to continue
The incessant mission assigned!
The desert lay silent
And pray in solitude
To bring solace to souls!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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A brave Field Cornet
From a hillock
two Boer commandoes
ride into an English camp
and a few of the British are shot,
a lot are caught
and most flee away.
In the direction of the Tuli river
the enemy are followed in haste
where they join comrades
driving a ox wagon
and the Boers are marksmen
and the English flee again
to find shelter in a farmhouse.
The house is shot to pieces
and for the third time on one day
the British flee again
and the next day,
the Boer commando captures nine wagons
with food and ammunition.
The day following Boer scouts
find an abandoned enemy camp
with burned out fires,
tents, horses and mules
and see a big cloud of dust
coming along in their direction.
There’s a Field Cornet
that does not ride away,
while two Boer commandos
escapes to safety.
At dusk Jacobus Potgieter
finds more men with a canon
set on a hillock
and with just more than twenty men,
he prepares
to give resistance to a huge enemy force.
The darker the night gets,
the nearer the cloud of dust comes
and Jacobus Potgieter and his men
are ready to shoot killing shots
and to let no Englishmen past them
and there’s a rambling sound,
but no enemy appear
and they are invaded
by a swarm of locusts.
[Reference: The “JJ Potgieter manuscript.” Second Anglo-Boer war. Boer commando= A group of Boer farmers in a citizen force militia under a Commandant (Lieutenant-Colonel) .]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I lived in small town out in the desert and my friend used to steal his mom's car in the middle of the night. He'd drive over to my house, I'd sneak out and we'd go out to the desert and just burn things down.
quote by Mark Hoppus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tree in the Desert
A tree in the desert thirsts for water
A tree in the desert gets too much sun
A tree in the desert is alone in the freezing night
A tree in the desert might never be seen
A tree in the desert might never be touched
A tree in the desert may or may not thrive
A tree in the desert struggles to stay alive
poem by Leo Valencia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Johnny Everyman [2]
In George uncle P.W. Botha are staying in his house
and at seventeen Johnny is too young to get a car
when his call up instructions indicates Johnny to a camp
and life is really terrible,
Johnny is taught about his holy rifle
and he notices how people really loose their heads
and in Johnny’s life nothing happens by accident
and he is old enough to ride a troop train.
In George uncle P.W. Botha are staying in his house
and however Johnny tries
time ticks off too slowly,
Johnny is taught about his holy rifle
must cross the camp from side to side
and if he doesn’t want to he has to serve a jail sentence of three years.
When his call up instructions indicate Johnny to a camp
Johnny has to face Ovambo’s, Cubans and Russians,
he is far away from his home and his people
time ticks off too slowly,
and are delivered to enemy soldiers, vicious animals and every kind of tick
while uncle Botha and his cabinet are free to make a living.
In George uncle P.W. Botha are staying in his house,
a new jet is bought for him
and Johnny and everybody with him is bomb happy
he is far away from his home and his people
out of the veins of some comrades there are blood foaming red
and of enemy rifle shots nobody is free.
When his call up instructions indicate Johnny to a camp
lies are being told to most of the country,
the army is nice and madder than nuts
and Johnny and everybody with him is bomb happy
constantly in the field and out of doors
and only a number without any respect
In George uncle P.W. Botha are staying in his house
when his call up instructions indicate Johnny to a camp,
enemy shots resounds right around him
and life is really terrible,
the army is nice and madder than nuts
and he notices how people really loose their heads.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode To John
Ode To John
You can have your fancy restaurants
Nightclubs and downtown haunts
He'd rather find a place to camp
If it's not too cold and damp
He'd rather scorch a can of beans
Than get a meal by other means
Just get the coals red and hot
He'll cook whatever he's got
He'd rather view a starlit sky
With shoreline lights gliding by
Then gaze upon the city lights
And all the other urban sights
No shiny shoes, no stylish suits
He's quite content in his canoe
No motor for the stream or lakes
Some paddle strokes is all it takes
A tugging fish upon his hook
Explaining it would take a book
Such fun does seem a crime
Until you try it just one time
And when his days work is done at last
They'll be no midnight party blast
He'll simply head off quite content
To sleeping bag or cozy tent
No modern tunes to help him sleep
Tranquility in camp he'll keep
Better to hear the hoot or howl
The serenade of a loon or owl
The city life may be right for you
He'll take a camper with a view
Keep your noisy city streets
Broadway show and front row seats
He'll take the simple life complete
Sometimes even wet and smelly feet
At camp he'll brave the dirt and bugs
Haul firewood and water jugs
You think camping's not ideal
Still not convinced of it's appeal
Poke fun at him if you wish
John's content to just
FISH FISH FISH
Jim 2008
poem by James Casey
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Shaka The Zulu
Here he comes with his muscular
body, in his hands lay the symbol
of Africa the symbol that have sent
many great warriors six feet beneath.
The sound of his voice bring silence
among the bird of the sky.
Shaka the son of Zulu he believe that he
is a true son of Africa.In the battle field
with the great symbol of Africa in his hands
he believe that nobody can defeat him, his
peer believe that he is a god among the
living creature.
Shaka the Zulu he believe in the black power
with iron hands he rule the people of Zulu with
the help of the witch doctors he conquer the
Africa.The name Shaka bring fear in the camp
of the white.
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
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The Great Grey Plain
Out West, where the stars are brightest,
Where the scorching north wind blows,
And the bones of the dead gleam whitest,
And the sun on a desert glows --
Yet within the selfish kingdom
Where man starves man for gain,
Where white men tramp for existence --
Wide lies the Great Grey Plain.
No break in its awful horizon,
No blur in the dazzling haze,
Save where by the bordering timber
The fierce, white heat-waves blaze,
And out where the tank-heap rises
Or looms when the sunlights wane,
Till it seems like a distant mountain
Low down on the Great Grey Plain.
No sign of a stream or fountain,
No spring on its dry, hot breast,
No shade from the blazing noontide
Where a weary man might rest.
Whole years go by when the glowing
Sky never clouds for rain --
Only the shrubs of the desert
Grow on the Great Grey Plain.
From the camp, while the rich man's dreaming,
Come the `traveller' and his mate,
In the ghastly dawnlight seeming
Like a swagman's ghost out late;
And the horseman blurs in the distance,
While still the stars remain,
A low, faint dust-cloud haunting
His track on the Great Grey Plain.
And all day long from before them
The mirage smokes away --
That daylight ghost of an ocean
Creeps close behind all day
With an evil, snake-like motion,
As the waves of a madman's brain:
'Tis a phantom NOT like water
Out there on the Great Grey Plain.
There's a run on the Western limit
Where a man lives like a beast,
And a shanty in the mulga
That stretches to the East;
And the hopeless men who carry
Their swags and tramp in pain --
The footmen must not tarry
Out there on the Great Grey Plain.
Out West, where the stars are brightest,
Where the scorching north wind blows,
And the bones of the dead seem whitest,
And the sun on a desert glows --
Out back in the hungry distance
That brave hearts dare in vain --
Where beggars tramp for existence --
There lies the Great Grey Plain.
'Tis a desert not more barren
Than the Great Grey Plain of years,
Where a fierce fire burns the hearts of men --
Dries up the fount of tears:
Where the victims of a greed insane
Are crushed in a hell-born strife --
Where the souls of a race are murdered
On the Great Grey Plain of Life!
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Around The World
Refrain:
Can you feel it
Can you feel it
What it means to hold a hand
Ive been around the world
Can you feel it
Can you feel it
What it means to have a friend
Ive been around the world
Refrain B:
If you need a hand, you can find a friend
In every nation, of this world
If you need a hand, you can find a friend
In every nation, of this world
Rap 1:
Ive been around the world, saw the desert and the rainbow
I go for the show, from the sand to the snow
Moskau to Manila, Milano to Beijng
Caracas to Capetown and back to Montreal
Stop running everyday from the pain, say no go
Driving you insane, no shame that you want let show
Call my name, I feel the same when you have sorrow
Grow let it go, there will always be a tomorrow
Rap 2:
All around the world, when you need a friend
Ill be there, anywhere, dont care, with a helping hand
Understand one another till the end
I swear, Im fair, I care, always gonna be there
Black, white, yellow, no matter if youre young or old
All for one, one for all, thats what my mother told me
Different colours and faces, find the trace
To your base embrace this human race
Life, will flow like a waterfall
Ive been around the world saw the desert and the rainbow
Rap 3:
Ive been around the world, saw the desert and the rainbow
I go for the show, from the sand to the snow
From New York to Paris, Sao Paulo to London
Sidney to Munich and back to Jakarta
Huge and unvorgetable China
People so open much more as I expected
Invincible pleasure in Brasil, Samba
Fond of life, there was no time to chill
Ive been around the world a thousand times for sure
Could be more explore before you walk through that door
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm 114
The world is a foreign place to be
And from it the Lord has set us free
He is found in the hearts of His people
Not under an old church steeple
The sea saw your glory and fled
And even in the desert your children are fed
The Jordan fell back upon its feet
And the people of Jericho suffered defeat
Tremble O earth at the presence of God
Mountains fall down where you stand
Seas, so vast, flee away from here
For Christ stands at God's right hand
Victories are won in the depths of the valley
And strongholds are broken down
God's children are called to the battle
This is where victors gain their crowns
poem by Frank McEleny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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