Desert Of Mills
The close horizon became from the desert of mills,
The bronze dunes worked hard in the storm of sand.
This absolutely became the edge of the world,
To signal a light for never land crept on this flower
Causing signatures of splendour, petals opening.
Parallel lines forked in different ways,
In the middle of actresses and actors,
Touch taunted the mistresses of the desert-wind.
Staring into the scene of distant echoes,
A proposition suggested food and drink
For the nomad of the scene, a real way of knowing.
The mills turned according to dust and weather,
Feeding the metallic men with their monster.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
The Nomad
Like a mirage riding on the desert sand
Like a vision floating with the desert winds
Know the secret of the ancient desert lands
you're the keeper of the mystery in your hands
Nomad rider of the ancient east
Nomad rider that men know the least
Nomad where you come from no one knows
Nomad where you go to no one tells
Undercover of the veil of your disguise
The men that fear you are the ones that you despise
No one's certain what your future will behold
You're a legend your own history will be told
Nomad rider of the ancient east
Nomad rider that men know the least
Nomad where you come from no one knows
Nomad where you go to no one tells
No one dares to even look or glance your way
Your reputation goes before you they all say
Like a spirit that can disappear at will
Many claim of things but no one's seen you kill
Nomad
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Questions to Desert Wind…
You wonder,
Did the desert wind already forgotten to past?
No dearest, it has always blown so gently…
Crafting this dry open desert,
Shifting mystical sand dunes,
Bringing precious droplets to a thirsty bird,
To comfort her broken heart!
You further asked,
O desert wind…
Why erased my written message in the sand?
So let it be a permanent secret,
Cause I have already engraved it in my heart.
poem by Desert Life
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The Crying Desert
Each and every sand of desert
Asks me as an expert
Where you were
When she was doing this crime
She left me alone, all alone
In the roaring desert zone
I just wanted her to phone
But she was not in the home
The scene was so horrifying
I searched and every sand
The desert called me crying
She is now in their hand
poem by Vizard Dhawan
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Mirage
Dust circles in motion
Heat dance on my shoes
Haunted by search and memory
Taunted by Kalahari day
Thirsty clouds break through the skies
Cricket armies start to hum
Pula e tla leng?
When will the rains come?
From the skies no word arrives
No echoes from the koppies
Only canopy of blue
That covers both the truth and dust
That would envelop me in lies.
A brief caress of breeze
On dry leaves of Acacia
But no relief for me
Perpetual on the desert ridge
Which overlooks but cannot reach
To freedom's sharp and subtle edge
The breath dies in the vacuum.
I reach out one last time to touch
The face of liberation
Before it disappears for years,
A mirage of the desert sun.
poem by Frank Bana
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Middle East
In my Promised Land
In the Middle East
What will we do about terrorism?
In my Promised Land
In the Middle East
What can we do about fanaticism?
You and I on parallel lines
You and I, we are the key
Dreams are not enough
To lead and guide us
To peace
In the Middle East
Oh, oh, oh...
In the Middle East
Oh, oh, oh...
Desire for peace
Such yearning for peace
Does your country do
What you believe in?
In my Land there is war
And we're losing our soul
And ideology
Is losing meaning
You and I on parallel lines
You and I, when can we meet?
Dreams are not enough
To lead and guide us
To peace
In the Middle East
Oh, oh, oh...
In the Middle East
Oh, oh, oh...
SHOLEM SHOLEM
WEEN SHOLEM
SHOLEM SHOLEM
WEN ESSALAM
SHOLEM SHOLEM
WEEN SHOLEM
SALAM
You and I on parallel lines
You and I, we are the key
Dreams are not enough
To lead and guide us
To peace
In the Middle East
Oh, oh, oh...
WEN ESSALAM?
Oh, oh, oh...
In the Middle East
Flare lights, flowers, mothers, fathers,
Homeland, green fields and tears
Borders, rivers, desert, Dead Sea
We are the key
Flare lights, flowers, mothers, fathers,
Homeland, green fields and tears
Borders, rivers, desert, Dead Sea
When can we meet?
YERUSHALAYM
YERUSHALEM
Oh, oh, oh...
In the Middle East
Oh, oh, oh...
In the Middle East
song performed by by Ofra Haza
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Wait
the desert does not end
as a desert per se
beyond these faceless sand dunes
there is always a shore
where our feet can taste
the sea again
beyond the sea is another
sunless horizon
a cool evening
a breezy affair
another conversation of
two lonely people
converging again
remembering what once
was an island
a lagoon with parakeets
coconut trees
and free flowing falls
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Desert Serenade
(words & music by stan gelber)
Come here my serenade, my desert serenade
A lovers melody, to bring you close to me
Its a tender lullaby, born of golden sand and sky
The song is new, and its calling you
Tonight beside the desert palms
Come let me take you in my arms
Come here my serenade, my desert serenade
Wherever lovers dwell, it weaves its magic spell
Soon a thousand dreams will start,
And romance will fill your heart
My lips conceal, love thats warm and real
Give me a chance to hold you near
Youll see a brand new world appear
So come and hear, my desert serenade, my desert serenade,
My desert serenade
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Santa Ana Winds
Here in sothern california there is a weather condition known as the
Santa ana winds.
Fire wind oh desert wind
She was born in a desert breeze
And wind her way
Through canyon way
From the desert to the silvery sea
In every direction
See the perfection
And see the san gabriel mountain scene
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Fill my sails
Oh desert wind
And hold the waves high for me
Then I will come
And test my skill
Where the santa ana winds blow free
In waves of elation
My part of creation
Becoming one with the boundless sea
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
I am the wind
Oh desert wind
On my pilgrimage to the sea
I will prevail
I will not fail
To bring life into humanity
My song is creation
(? ? ? )the nation
Whispering the wisdom and its purity
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds keep blowin across my eyes
Santa ana winds...
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The desert was the colour of cinnamon
The desert was the colour of cinnamon,
the hills in the distance were blue,
were rolled up like pan cakes
and I was searching for a stopping place
near to some water
the air was a metallic blue, the sand yellow;
time here came to a standstill
where the desertedness catches you sometimes,
in this barren landscape where decay just brings
more and more sand
and dust clouds hang lingering over everything
while the wind flutters and dust hits everywhere.
poem by Gert Strydom
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0333 Hungry for Romance
Mills and Boon, Mills and Boon,
ravish me - but not too soon...
Boon and Mills, Boon and Mills,
steam my specs with bedtime thrills...
(M&B - publishers of bodice-ripper romance, with strict rules for their writers)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Minds eye for M lady Allie
The beauty of the desert lands
Lies in the multi coloured sands
which vary with the light of day.
Only the nomad understands.
By night the dunes look black and grey
but alter when the moonbeams play
across the valleys and the peak.
Creating pictures which cannot stay.
The beauty that the nomads seek
is to the desert lands unique.
Invisible to western eyes
which view the barren sands as bleak.
The beauty of desert lies
in what the viewers mind supplies.
11-Apr-08
Rubaiyat Sonnet
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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We Are Not Actors!
when millions of our ancestors died for the truth,
when millions of them never acted in their life,
when millions of us work hard with our only face,
who told that world is full actors and actresses?
memorized scripts are repeated,
repeated verses can be recorded and edited,
The director vision is visualized,
Rehearsal can make the scenes perfect.
we live a scene only once in real life,
no directors, editors and the script writer,
we live our life with emotions and blunders,
we feel every moment that is not felt by the actors,
who told that world is the stage and we are the actors?
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Lost legion for Friend Thad
The earth beneath the desert sun is baked to shades of brown and dun.
A sea of sand which ceaselessly moves with wind uneasily.
The land marks here are far and few but known by those belonging to the nomad bands who freely roam this sea of sand and call it home.
A people fierce and proud and free who guard their secrets ruthlessly.
Intruders are not welcome here; invaders simply disappear.
Their fate is very seldom known, the desert can protect its own
Whole Roman legions were erased their resting place cannot be traced.
The desert knows but will not speak some bones are found by those who seek
to solve the ancient mysteries. Perhaps rewrite the histories.
To validate their theories of how an army disappears.
without a clues as to their fate. A subject open to debate.
The desert sands move constantly, sometimes revealing teasingly
bleached bones and weapons on the sand which scholars strive to understand.
Does it matter anyway? Why do we seek to know today
what happened to the lost legion. Although the legend lingers on.
The desert will not satisfy our burning curiosity
The desert knows but will not share the scholars find this hard to bear.
The desert lands conceal with ease volumes of untold histories.
Which earnest scholars yearn to read, perhaps one day they will succeed.
But until then the burning sun will bake the earth to brown and dun
Maintaining its long secrecy in brooding silent dignity.
30-Dec-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Quetch
Tendril wafted dunes
of barren sands waffle,
swirl across mile
upon mile in every direction-
your face appears a horizon away,
there is little comfort found
in accompanying echoes.
Drifting sticks
wail in the pitched wind,
stretched on distant recollection-
stylus of the scribe named Regret;
each flurrying breeze
turns a new page,
taking with it freshly shed tears.
Foetid droppings
of some wastrel desert vagabond
provide a vivid reminder
of how it can never be again,
to kick it away
would only contaminate
these well worn wandering shoes.
Head facing forward
wherever the nose points
except in the back of the mind
where the oasis burbles-
each leafy frond conceals
intimate moments now buried
within the unmindful desert's gut.
poem by Frederick Kesner
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Fix my broken pieces of Yesterday
richness of the experiences leads one moment to
see, the splendid venue of the future, where the soul
blinds the gloomy light that brings pain to touch in
the horizon of the night
reckons, my heart where the child Lilies blooms in thy
bosom arm of thy mother's charm, oh! let me touch
the naked breast of my lips that lure me to taste the
honey bee that makes me free in the day when I was
born
now it’s me, to look beyond the things that mold me,
the time of the moment of all the moments, that I
lead my way to the path of where I stay, alas! brings
me the cup that satisfied my thirst, a milk that subdue
my strength
feel the splendor of the morning sun, like dunes in the sea
of the desert sand, an oasis of storm in the land I can't be
fun, where my trimmed heart mixed with magic wand, and
take me to the place; then I will lay down my hand
please turn and fix my wonderful pieces in the stormy sea I
can’t see...........
poem by Antonio Liao
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Big Cats
If I were a cat,
I’d be a big cat too,
I’d freeze in the land
Of the sun and rain.
This lion sank into the earth,
For the mind was a heated treasure,
Liking an eating ritual,
Loving the sunny weather.
My head dropped to the sure ways,
At a distant scene, under the fractured sky;
Never did a storm come hither,
Leading the lions and cats.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A Beautiful Flower Blooming
A withered flower blooming again
breeze shook the flower
the sun is shining on flower
rain water to wash the dust-filled flower
abort storm petals
storm that renders the flower petals
polling beetle sucking painful
flower that bloom so bright today
beauty exudes an aura of coolness of the beholder
spread the fragrance that invites a bee to touch
although many other flowers around it
bees sucking the flower first
choose to suck and touch the flower
lately the flower
always bloom radiate beauty
a bee was not able to get away from the flower
a bee sucking the beautiful bloomington
always produce the honey taste good
really beautiful relationship between the flower and bee
both are very compatible and complement each other
poem by meti Rahmawati
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It's A Lonesome Desert At Night
I stood in a phone booth
In the middle of the desert
And listened to it ring,
It sounded like some sad old song
I think I used to know how to sing -
I heard Spanish horns
Wailing in the distant air,
A longing upon the Western wind
Rolling in from somewhere, far beyond here, or there -
Rain started down
As hypnotically I picked up the phone,
I heard lightning crackle through the line
And thunder seductively groan -
A voice in the wind
Blew hot and low
Throwing desperate dust into the fading sky,
While shadows in the flashes and trembles through the ground
Gave clouds cause to cry and cry -
I wanted so to call Someone...
But, I didn't know how; and
It really wouldn't have mattered anyway,
For I had no quarters...
Nor any good words left to say -
Upon the desert floor the next morn
I awoke, cold and alone
Covered in both dust and dew,
The phone booth and storm were gone...
But the sky remains forever, the deepest shade of pure blue.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Keep On Keeping Moving
From the eastern horizon,
The sun slowly unblinks
From the top of the mountains,
Casting rays of light towards
The west.
As ligth spreads all over the land.
Dunes of sand clearly seen,
So empty and lifeless;
So vasty and selfish that it dinies
Life to all creatures.
Slowly the sun rises and soon takes over
control of all earths' activities.
The desert as early as breakfast time;
It gathers enough heat........
The heat so blazing that it scoches my skin,
My lips cracked like mud dried instantly.
My throat chocked and my saliver was like paste.
But i had to move on...........
To keep on moving on,
The wind from opposite side of me
coming with great velocity,
While in resistance with me;
It leaves me with fine dust in my eyes,
Then it goes behind me with a fading melody;
But i kept on keeping moving
poem by Moffat Mbuzi
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Terror In Sand
Is it terror to live in desert sand
and fear exploring the dried out land?
Of course it is. What do you think?
Not even a dropp of water to drink.
Is it terror to die in desert sand
and fear expiring because of man?
Of course it is.
How would you feel
ending up as a snakes's last meal?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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