O My dear unseen Lord!
You gave me a Camel
And stretched a long desert
A poor ration with a decander of water.
But I am not blaming you,
Is it possible to live with an old female Camel
In his entire life with fundamental needs?
*The soul would have no rainbow if the eye had no tear.
-Unknown
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Camel
A camel
That walks alone
Across the desert unending
Has no pretentions.
Every camel is so.
A camel
That has a hump large and
A physique strong
Is a marvel to none.
No marvel at all.
A camel
Treads before me at times
Leaving a track to follow and
I carry my small luggage
No caravan is seen.
A camel,
A desert,
A track and
Me.
There is a breeze blowing from somewhere!
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Long Necked Ruminant
Long Necked Ruminant
So you think a camel is just an ugly animal,
a camel has kissable lips and eyes like
Marilyn Monroe; and it gives milk, low fat and
nourishing. But I bet you didn’t know that.
When a four wheel, stops by lack of petrol in
the sand of Sahara, the camel with its padded
cloves trudges along, smells like hell, but
who cares when it can bring you to an oasis.
Sweet dates, cold water and languor under
palm trees, a dream comes true, but do not
forget it was a camel that brought you there.
And have you ever tasted camel cheese?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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They've Put A Brassiere On A Camel
They've put a brassiere on a camel,
She wasn't dressed proper, you know.
They've put a brassiere on a camel,
So that her humps wouldn't show.
And they're making other respectable plans,
They're even even insisting the pigs should wear pants,
They'll dress up the ducks if we give them the chance
Since they've put a brassiere on a camel.
They've put a brassiere on a camel,
They claim she's more decent that way.
They've put a brassiere on a camel,
The camel had nothing to say.
They squeezed her into it, i'll never know how,
They say that she looks more respectable now,
Lord knows what they've got in mind for the cow,
Since they've put a brassiere on a camel.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Loreena mckennitt, THE OLD WAYS
IN the desert
A camel
A lady
Riding
Against an orange sky
The lady in silk
She is running away
From the hot sun
In the desert
The sun is confident
Following her
In the full view
After all, the desert where the camel
And the woman walk
Is the sun’s best friend.
The usual old ways do not know betrayal.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In the Spirit of Rumi-39-The Desert
As the cool dawn brings the light
to the desert where the blue-white sky
meets the sand that time and man have brought,
and you wake the camel boy
to lead the camels from the waterside –
before you mount the lurching beast
and sway off into the desert on your path,
the camel-bells tinkling on the harness,
look into the camel’s eyes.
There you will see mingled,
pride in its being; patience in its duty.
The wise men say that God is found
where opposites meet and are resolved.
Proud in its being, patient in its duty –
no great wonder, then, that the camel
has been chosen of God to take you
across the desert of your destiny in faith and trust;
for in the world of metaphor, where man meets God
in the mind’s own language,
the camel is your body; dutiful proud servant
for the journey you must take; your company
for the length of time that journey takes.
So, traveller, when you reach the green and cool oasis
at the ending of the day’s sufficient journey -
first tie your camel by the waters of refreshment
before you kneel; for food; for prayer; then
resting in the bright-eyed company;
the eyes of those who scan the round horizon as they ride
and wonder always, what oasis lies beyond.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Tears in Desert
Once upon a time in a desert,
There was a camel and an oasis,
Large terrain, scorpions, rattlesnakes, cruel sun and cactus,
Camel galloped its way through the painful elements,
May be this was less,
Qabilas and Pathans used it,
Bruised it,
Work done; Bye bye,
Beautiful motives to use it,
Tears filled its eyes but sun evaporated them all,
No one cared so on its knees,
Still working its way towards oasis,
But not getting it right,
Do you know who camel was? , or is?
Think twice, take your time,
Hope this time would enough for its journey to oasis...
poem by Vikrant Jog
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Caravan
Moses went into the desert
Moses came back with the law
Jesus went into the desert
God only knows what he saw
Hitch up your ass and your camel
Fill up your skin at the well
Roll up your tent, whisper your prayers
Are you ready to ride through hell
Caravan moving through the night
Sleeping in the light of day
Caravan spinning through the void
On our way to anywhere
Caravan time is just a joke change is all we
Understand
Caravan life is a mirage,
Only a mirage dancing on the desert sand
How I recall all the mountains
How I remember the farm
Oh how I miss the big city
With a pretty girl on my arm
Sell my best friend for some water
Cut off my leg for some shade
Sunburn these thoughts from my memory
If I live I will be remade
The sand is like a razor
Slashing at my face
Everyones in panic but you cant see any place
Its a sand storm, taken by surprise
Hide beneath your wrappings and cover up your eyes
Well I lost my kit and camel
Maybe I will die
Feel so lost and helpless and I think Im gonna cry
Its a sand storm, nothing you can do
No one knows if it will last
No one knows if you will make it through
Its been so long without water
Vultures are filling the air
Where is that bloody oasis
Must be around here somewhere
Time for some strong meditation
Time for the ultimate change
Time to make peace with your maker
Everything has been prearranged
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Camel
i am not ashamed to say
that i have never seen a living camel
(except the pictures
and movies
Lawrence of Arabia)
how i wish to ride on the hump of the camel
touch its hair and lick its tongue
(do you find it dirty? am i weird?)
but despite this ignorance
i must with all honesty admit
i smoke Camel
cigarettes.
I am not horny
I am just being corny
Oh forget me
I am damn crazy!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Plaint Of The Camel
Canary-Birds feed on sugar and seed,
Parrots have crackers to crunch:
And, as for the poodles, they tell me the noodles
Have chickens and cream for their lunch.
But there's never a question
About MY digestion—
Anything does for me!
'Cats, you're aware, can repose in a chair,
Chickens can roost upon rails;
Puppies are able to sleep in a stable,
And oysters can slumber in pails.
But no one supposes
A poor Camel dozes—
Any place does for me!
'Lambs are enclosed where it's never exposed,
Coops are constructed for hens:
Kittens are treated to houses well heated,
And pigs are protected by pens.
But a Camel comes handy
Wherever it's sandy—
Anywhere does for me!
'People would laugh if you rode a giraffe,
Or mounted the back of an ox;
It's nobody's habit to ride on a rabbit,
Or try to bestraddle a fox.
But as for a Camel, he's
Ridden by families—
Any load does for me!
'A snake is as round as a hole in the ground,
And weasels are wavy and sleek;
And no alligator could ever be straighter
Than lizards that live in a creek,
But a Camel's all lumpy
And bumpy and humpy—
Any shape does for me!'
poem by Charles Edward Carryl
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Ch 07 On The Effects Of Education Story 12
One year discord had arisen in a caravan among the walking portion and I also travelled on foot. To obtain justice we attacked each other’s heads and faces, giving full vent to pugnacity and contention. I saw a man sitting in a camel litter and saying to his companion: ‘How wonderful! A pawn of ivory travels across the chess-board and becomes a farzin, and the footmen of the Haj travelled across the whole desert only to become worse.’
Tell on my part to the man-biting Haji
Who tears the skins of people with torments:
Thou art not a Haji but a camel is one
Because, poor brute, it feeds on thorns and bears loads.
Do not free the camel of the burden of his hump; you may be freeing him from being a camel.
quote by M. Kathleen Casey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do not free a camel of the burden of his hump; you may be freeing him from being a camel.
quote by Gilbert K. Chesterton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death is a black camel that lies down at every door. Sooner or later you must ride the camel.
The camel driver has his plans and the camel has his.
A camel does not tease another camel about his humps.
A camel does not joke about the hump of another camel.
If Ali is the camel-driver, he knows where to rest his camel.
One camel does not make fun of the other camel's hump.
One camel does not make fun of another camel's hump.
Shouting' For A Camel
It was over at Coolgardie that a mining speculator,
Who was going down the township just to make a bit o' chink,
Went off to hire a camel from a camel propagator,
And the Afghan said he'd lend it if he'd stand the beast a drink.
Yes, the only price he asked him was to stand the beast a drink.
He was cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.
So the mining speculator made the bargain, proudly thinking
He had bested old Mahomet, he had done him in the eye.
Then he clambered on the camel, and the while the beast was drinking
He explained with satisfaction to the miners standing by
That 'twas cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.
But the camel kept on drinking and he filled his hold with water,
And the more he had inside him yet the more he seemed to need;
For he drank it by the gallon, and his girths grew taut and tauter,
And the miners muttered softly, 'Yes he's very dry indeed!
But he's cheap, very cheap, as dromedaries go.'
So he drank up twenty buckets, it was weird to watch him suck it,
(And the market price for water was per bucket half-a-crown)
Till the speculator stopped him, saying, 'Not another busket,
If I give him any more there'll be a famine in the town.
Take him back to old Mahomet, and I'll tramp it through the town.'
He was cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.
There's a moral to this story, in your hat you ought to paste it,
Be careful whom you shout for when a camel is about,
And there's plenty human camels who, before they'll see you waste it,
Will drink up all you pay for if you're fool enough to shout;
If you chance to strike a camel when you're fool enough to shout,
You'll be cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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