Related quotes: For Faizil I remember the...

Memories of Summers Spent

For Faizil

I remember the sand dunes of Aniston
Eastwards on the south of the Western Cape coast
The blue skies hanging over
Illuminated by the burning sun
Within the sand dunes concealed
Lies the bones of shipwrecked sailors of yesteryear
Contrast of desert and ocean
Like two dimension woven in one

Dwarfed by the sands of time
I remember how we raced to the top of the dunes
Breathless without thought
Just the absolute carefree bliss of being children
The race down was a running and a tumbling
Our summers spent camping at Arniston
When finally at the bottom, we would lay exhausted
Panting, catching our breath

poem by Persian Khushi
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Related quotes

On The Dunes

Drive along the sea
Far from the citys twitch and smoke
To a misty beach
Thats where my life became a joke
On the dunes
On the dunes
(became a joke on the dunes)
Where rents are high
And seabirds cry
On the dunes
As you spoke you must have known
It was a kind of homicide
I stood and watched my happiness
Drift outwards with the tide
On the dunes
On the dunes
(homicide on the dunes)
It wasnt fair
Its brutal there
On the dunes
Pretty boats
Sweeping along the shore
In the faltering light
Pretty women
With their lovers by their side
Its like an awful dream
I have most every night
In the summer all the swells
Join in the search for sun and sand
For me its just a joyless place
Where this loneliness began
On the dunes
On the dunes
(loneliness on the dunes)
Im pretty tough
But the wind is rough
On the dunes

song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dunes

oh! man. remember the day when you are born, the sky that
twinkle in your eyes, as the sea breeze, in the dunes of sand,
tranquil, in the luminous pavement of water beneath your
mother's tear

you have chatter the fears of death, of which the stings of pain,
labour in the weary sweat of your father hand has come to sprout
like orchards green of graves in the blue sky in your mother
dream

a dunes, that whisper the cool olive oil in the green leaves of
summer in the meadow of oasis of desert from the storm in the,
night of the skies, waiting to capture the smiling faces of your
loved father and mother cribs

like a cheddar, full of tasted cream of cheese, in every tongue,
awaits to capture the aroma of judgment in our hearts, so
especial, that every wind calls our spirit to mingle every direction
it brings

each pieces of sand, leads us to a place, where the emptied
soul, find its meaning of being one in the darkness of uncertainty
a call for, to follow the segment of our life in the course of nature
tranquility

life is what we make it, a wind that redirect us to focus ourselves,
the dunes of where we have to follow, where the cooled wind,
will brings to the sea of life everlasting

' let the dunes be, a dunes to other in the great blue ocean of God'

poem by Antonio Liao
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Down By The Sea

Where the tumbling frothing surf,
Meets the sand dunes' spiky turf,
And daring seagulls dive and screech,
Above the sunny sandy beach,
Inventive children with bucket and spade,
Run down from the esplanade.

Lobster pots are drawn up to dry,
Beneath the blue and breezy sky,
And seaweed waiting for the tide,
Lies still, with nowhere else to hide,
And the tangy, salty languid air,
Makes one want to stand and stare.

A crab who liked the noonday heat,
Makes a speedy fast retreat,
As all his space has been invaded,
By humans looking for a shaded
Place to sit, and rest, and play,
On this hot shifting sand, today.

Then wafting gentle winds whose kiss,
Anoint our bodies with cooling bliss,
As through the hours of burning sun,
We try to get our tans well done.
They, nowhere else, could better be,
Than on the shore, down by the sea.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Dunes Are Made Of SanD

Cul the zeros out of my head, so i may round by the sound, the square i love to wear - She is my dress, my shadow grows on both, what was lost next to 2, by my sides - Never do i fear alone, I am held by her grip, sometimes she is more than cold, but she never will let me slip - Sometimes i stand on the dunes, the sand tells me of what passed by time - my prints are diplayed, one to a row, although never was there a path which led me to wonder astray - By my hand, in own i was grown, i do the deed which cause me harm, without a bell to ring the cause for the alarm, i stitch close what was sown - Tears which streams into rivers, do so with one flow - As Dunes Are Made of SanD

poem by Unic Cjonr
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Sand Dunes

Stretched far and wide,
Are the piles of sands
The waves of wind creates
Thousands at a time and
Thus recreates another with
The strong sway, making fool
The beholder mingles one
With the other, I look for
The first one, lose the second
Third and innumerable...
Turns the number, but
None to be mine one and
Only sand dune, my footprint
Runs to be one with the other,
Gets nothing, only a whirling,
A very clear whirling of sand
Breaking one after another into
Gulleys and again into dunes.
I also turn to be a dot, in the
Sea of sand, a mere dot!

poem by Nilakshi Das
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I Wonder Atop the Dunes

Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall.
When the air is thick,
And hot with sticky humidity?

Will my Autumn wishes,
Be of those you select and pick?

I like to sit atop the dunes,
At Cape Cod and Padre Island.
I am closer to my thoughts.
When the seagulls and waves,
Exchange as nature wishes.
With sounds that attract,
My need to be distracted.

Then I make eye contact with it.
Pulling me in like a magnet!

And I see you...
This attractive distraction.
Relaxing to instigate,
My delusions of being laid...
On Labor Day.

And throughout the festivities of the holidays.

Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall.
When the air is thick,
And hot with sticky humidity.

Will my Autumn wishes,
Be of those you select and pick?
And we discover a great happiness.

Will we be sharing Thanksgiving?
Or comfortable enough to be sitting...
Under the Christmas Tree butt naked.
And exchanging gifts with kisses?
To sweat if we let it get done.
Near the grate of the fireplace.
To quietly lay to hear 'carols' we hum.

I like to sit atop the dunes,
At Cape Cod and Padre Island.
I am closer to my thoughts.
When the seagulls and waves,
Exchange as nature wishes.
With sounds that attract,
My need to be distracted.

And I am...
When I think of how we met.
And I am...
Full of regret,
I did not extend to you an invitation.

Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall...
Again?

Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall...
Again?
But,
When again?
I wonder atop the dunes.

When will this move I make?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I be perceived as a faker?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I share this escape?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Could mistakes be made to make up?
I wonder atop the dunes.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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How spiny the cactus raised itself

how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the desert
how red the sand
burnt under the mid-day sun
how scorched the scorpion moved
across the red sand

and in that silence
a sudden whirlwind blows
a red, red cloud of sand
from the dunes rises
how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the tempest:

and yet
and yet
the tempest was subdued and fell
as happened long ago and now
and still
and spiny the cactus raises itself
into the desert
and the red sand
burns under the mid-day sun

poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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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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amidst desert sand dunes
scorching sun and hot air
God grows oases

quote by by John Celes
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Let it be...

The feet of heart
Heavily laden
With agony and ecstasy
Desperately clutch at
The shifting
Vagrant sand dunes
Quite a few moments of death
Drop as tears and
Mingle with the wandering sands
To sprout as a desert flower or two
Elsewhere

Is that a mourning?
Is that a celebration?
Let it be...

poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Let It Be...

(09May2011)

poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The Entropy of Pleasure

By the time you walk up to the ocean
the wave has already disappeared,
replaced by another wave, another sadness
as in passion or the light dying at dusk

or the shell split under your foot, another
scar made in the sand. You can't remember
exactly what you need to remember. White fluttering
wings arrive in the sweet grass like letters

from someone you loved who has abandoned you
for another city. And all the signs
read 'Dangerous Currents', 'Sea Forest'.
It's so difficult to keep track of the tracks
that are leading to unexpected places.

Change is a way we can't easily follow,
the water disappearing; even the dunes
have shifted and right when you are about to lose
your way into the wild oats, shuddering,
there are the stars in the center of sand dollars

that make you remember what you spend is spent,
the entropy of pleasure a wave's body
you can't hold in your hands for long. You
know the only way out is landmarks

you can't even imagine, the way we are drawn,
pulled by the tides, the first step
into happiness, its dangerous pleasure,
licked by the water's green flames

poem by Geraldine Connolly
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The Ghosts Of The Bunurong

On the sand dunes at Powlett river in the dead of the night
Dark shadows are moving in the faint moonlight
The Ghosts of the Bunurong dance their Corroborees
In a circle they jig to the music of the breeze.

And as they dance they sing an old Dreamtime song
This Country to their spirits always belong
When white people are sleeping the black tribes come out
And they sing on the sand dunes as they dance about.

The old ghosts of the Dreamtime have not gone away
Like the frogmouths they hide from the bright lamp of day
But on the stroke of midnight they come out from the trees
And they dance on the sand by the southern seas.

The ghosts of the Bunurong they have not died
They dance in the moonlight on the beach at low tide
And by old Powlett river their old Countryside
At dawn they return to their old trees to hide

From the bright lamp of day but on the stroke of midnight
They dance on the sand dunes in the faint moonlight
And to the music of the breeze they sing their Dreamtime song
This Country to their spirits always belong.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Chasing the endless...

Chasing the endless horizon.
The eyes of sun shape.
The sand glow dunes celebrate.

In her kiss, I found a desert of,
starry and dark, alternate nights.
In her tongue, a green oasis
of screaming, old rocks.

Breathless consciences
are feared mothers,
with wet eyes,
drunk of tears.

poem by Luca Menin
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Love Sonnet 169 I Have Seen Sadness On The Prestine Sand

I have seen sadness on the pristine sand,
In faded footprints, you have failed to make,
More so that sands were once huge rocks, so grand,
Before this fate, that only sands could take:
To become the dunes, were dwelt my sorrow,
In dire stillness that aggravates my loss,
The craved tenderness, which you did not show,
That spawned a desert, much too wide to cross;
Though minute are the grains that slip my grasp,
Like truths that seep through a mind grief ridden,
Vicious as though rose harboring a wasp,
Thereby, in sweetness lurks its sting, hidden;
......Yet, your footprints did not last till evening,
......As blown sand covered your tracks of leaving.
.

poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Impermanence

like the colored sands of the
Buddhist monks of Mandala
the facts of our lives
that took
us years and years
to establish
after a very careful tapestry
of our own artistic instincts,
soon shall be

gone, mixed, castles and temples
turning into
sand dunes inside our hands

and we swim to the river of time
and there let
all the sands spill back to the water
that does not just flow
but run & run

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Remember

Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
Seems like the other day
My baby went away
She went away across the sea
It's been two years or so
Since i saw my baby go
And then this letter came for me
Oh it said that we were through
She's found somebody new
Oh baby's gone what can i do
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
(remember)
Hey i remember
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
("walking in the sand")
Ahhhhh
Ahhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
I want to know
What ever happened to
The little girl i once knew
She said that she'd be true
(remember)
(remember)
Remember
Hey i remember
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
"walking in the sand"
(remember remember)
("walking in the sand")
Walking hand in hand
(remember)
Remember
("walking in the sand")
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand"
Remember
Remember
"walking in the sand

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember "Walking In The Sand"

Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
Seems like the other day
My baby went away
She went away across the sea
It's been two years or so
Since I saw my baby go
And then this letter came for me
Oh it said that we were through
She's found somebody new
Oh baby's gone what can I do
Remember
Remember
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember)
Hey I remember
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
("Walking In The Sand")
Ahhhhh
Ahhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhh
I want to know
What ever happened to
The little girl I once knew
She said that she'd be true
(Remember)
(Remember)
Remember
Hey I remember
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
"Walking In The Sand"
(Remember remember)
("Walking In The Sand")
Walking hand in hand
(Remember)
Remember
("Walking In The Sand")
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand"
Remember
Remember
"Walking In The Sand

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0332 How were they to know?

Yes, how were they to know,
searching in the heat of forenoon dunes,
those high hills of sand
where once the forests grew,
now a rhythm of burnt sunned, cool shadowed, mock horizons,
- they, searching for the camel which had strayed -

and finding there, a man sitting still, cross-legged
in the sand upon a small strip
of faded coloured carpet,
palm of hand crossed in palm of hand,
and in the palm of his upraised right hand,
one grain of sand

and who, as they approached,
did not shift his gaze from that one grain;
and yet they sensed that he sensed them;
better let him be, he knows what he’s about,
or if he’s mad, at least he’s quietly purposeful…

how were they to know
that as he gazed, the universe he saw
in that one grain of sand then
grew inside of him? till it filled itself,
like a sand-clock, as the last grain
falls from the upper to
the lower, and all is still again
as measured time stops still
amid the sands of time?

how were they to know
as that small figure against the desert sand
his cloak still burning to the touch,
returned to the oasis, as the red-hot sun
sank below the dramatic shadow of the furthest dune,

and later, sitting by the green palms and papyrus reeds,
the camels head down, humped around the welcome pool,
one child, then many children,
then grown men, asked him their questions;
and the answers, as the night folded in
below more stars than anyone could count,
drew the circle of cross-legged silent listeners
- occasionally, urgent voiced with a lifetime’s pressing question -
as if some grain of sand became in their mind too
totality; the universe.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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