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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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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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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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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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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Rough Beast
Don't tell a camel about need and want.
Look at the big lips
pursed
in perpetual kiss,
the dangerous lashes
of a born coquette.
The camel is an animal
grateful for less.
It keeps to itself
the hidden spring choked with grass,
the sharpest thorn
on the sweetest stalk.
When a voice was heard crying in the wilderness,
when God spoke
from the burning bush,
the camel was the only animal
to answer back.
Dune on stilts,
it leans into the long horizon,
bloodhounding
the secret caches of watermelon
brought forth like manna
from the sand.
It will bear no false gods
before it:
not the trader
who cinches its hump
with rope,
nor the tourist.
It has a clear sense of its place in the world:
after water and watermelon,
heat and light,
silence and science,
it is the last great hope,
Noah's ark,
Virgin of the oasis
who brings forth milk
under a deadly sky.
Year after year
it follows the bright stars
east, falls to its knees
for the lowliest king.
Except, of course, when the top lip
lifts like a curtain
on a mighty sneer.
Then you may hear,
out of the mouth of that rough beast,
the walls of the wide world
collapse.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Jean Monahan
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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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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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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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Death is a black camel that lies down at every door. Sooner or later you must ride the camel.
If Ali is the camel-driver, he knows where to rest his camel.
One camel does not make fun of another camel's hump.
The camel driver has his plans and the camel has his.
A camel does not joke about the hump of another camel.
A camel does not tease another camel about his humps.
One camel does not make fun of the other camel's hump.
The camel stallion grows old, the camel foal grows up.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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“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 bucket --
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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