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
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Moon and the Nomad
t is a long night.
The vehicles zoom on the highway,
Leaves ruffle,
The moon is veiled by pollutants.
The moon chokes,
Struggles to regain its serenity,
A nomad tries to purge the toxins,
The nomad knows he is somehow responsible for the discomfort.
The moon was used to purge itself from all toxins,
For the first time it needed the nomad,
The nomad was in pain too,
The moon wished to regain its tranquility to ease the nomad.
The night is long,
The nomad has a long way to go beyond the moon and the stars,
The moon is icy cold,
The toxins are consuming the moon.
poem by Susmita Biswas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Dream From The Past
Every night I dream,
Thousands of hours of war,
Mother Nile emits the tale of my scar,
The Land of Sphinx and Pharoahs of the damned,
The Land of progression and the corpses were rammed,
The Nomad rose up and threw down his horse,
The galloped the golden sand with the force of Ra,
He challenged the Pharoah in the battle of might,
Last man to stand should sling other's neck in a torque,
The Nomad rose up and charged with aggression,
The defense of Pharoah flowed up in frustration,
The swings, the flings, the charges, the assaults,
Blood splattered and smeared;
A corpse fell down and Nomad rose up from the sand,
The Nomad ruled the Land of mighty Ramses and beautiful Cleopatra,
He remembers the time serving the town of Hamunapatra,
The Nomad, the Messiah fought bad and evil with the might of Osiris,
Imhotep died a death of glory,
Mummified and laid to rest,
His spirits found a new body and flowed to Peninsula,
But the scabbard was left vacant and the sword was still held high.
poem by Vikrant Jog
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Victoria Neale, Where Ever She Be
Victoria Neale is a true Nomad.
She walks the land on well feathered paths.
Her stride is long and bold.
Her journey wide eyed and full.
Yes, she is a mother - of children and invention.
Takes them where ever she roams.
Along the way she is not just seen,
people take notice of Victoria Neale.
Because the true Nomad is rare and on the wane.
She walks between seasons
tracing the arc of the sun
where open sky invites all those who dare.
Where those who dare skip like stones on a marble pond.
She does not follow the migration.
The wake in the prairie grass is her own.
She is driven by the solution to mystery.
There is always time for a tale.
Her story grows taller by the year,
time grows shorter by the day.
And when the sky finally closes in,
when the feathers are trampled stiff
and the marble worn away,
Victoria Neale the Nomad
will go beyond the hills time has made
and rest in the shade of grace.
poem by Ronald Shields
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bora Ring
The song is gone; the dance
is secret with the dancers in the earth,
the ritual useless, and the tribal story
lost in an alien tale.
Only the grass stands up
to mark the dancing-ring; the apple-gums
posture and mime a past corroboree,
murmur a broken chant.
The hunter is gone; the spear
is splintered underground; the painted bodies
a dream the world breathed sleeping and forgot.
The nomad feet are still.
Only the rider's heart
halts at a sightless shadow, an unsaid word
that fastens in the blood of the ancient curse,
the fear as old as Cain.
poem by Judith Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
See it coming
Maybe
It's because
I'm tired -
Past loss -
Opening my heart
To the kill shot.
poem by Nomad Omnia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I think my being such a nomad let me into acting. I was always having to create a new image whenever we moved.
quote by Aidan Quinn
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Singapore morning
A shedding of rain
bathes this city’s eyes
Before a spreading sun
poem by Nomad Omnia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A nomad I will remain for life, in love with distant and uncharted places.
quote by Isabelle Eberhardt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Do not be a nomad
Do not be a nomad
Do something in the forest.
Trust deficit
Killer of midnight.
O my friend come and see
I am yours and you are mine.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Aconital Domain
Domain of a free man, the stars
remains of still deserted bars
from his imprisonment, he flies
an exaltation of soul, to skies.
a self made nomad to engrave
on his intellect, his astral wave
go forth four years, to Centauri,
nomad solitude a bluish worry..
Domain of a quill gun, a gild
Persephone's call, a rose field
Aconital expiation, another seven
reasons to immigrate to heaven.
Evocative omen and Demesne
facing of reality to forbearance,
fiddle above chaos in air fixed
a vow of my solitude and mist.
Aconital domain, deathly reason,
ferrous interpretation of treason
in a world poisonous, worth to spit
as false images indictment emit.
Impiety drools as an obtrusion
accordment of a sinful confusion
conceived rhythm to invite death,
prowess once reigned, on earth.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sojourner
Are your herds all dead
That you walk the street alone?
And do you have your own bed
When the toiling day is done?
City nomad without his herd
Wanderer, pilgrim of the mind
Wont you rest your tired head
You herdsman of a kind?
Were your ancestors cattle rearers
Who sought where grasses were green?
But you have mingled with the city dwellers
Leaving your herds either dead or lean
Tell me, city nomad
Why did you leave your father's way
And choose the city, tis' sad
That you roam the streets day by day
Or are you of the gypsy race
And your clan, minstrels and magicians?
Who wander from place to place
Sleeping and waking in caravans
Foxes have holes, and bird the trees
Do you have any to call your home?
Some live in houses, some in tents
Why do choose the streets to roam?
I am but a sojourner in every city
Seeking my God and the crown
And may he lead me to that heavenly city
A better place to call my own! !
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Whereever I May Roam
Wherever I May Roam
...and the road becomes my bride
I have stripped of all but pride
so in her I do confide
and she keeps me satisfied
gives me all I need
...and with dust in throat I crave
only knowledge will I save
to the game you stay a slave
rover wanderer
nomad vagabond
call me what you will
but I'll take my time anywhere
free to speak my mind anywhere
and I'll redefine anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
...and the earth becomes my throne
I adapt to the unknown
under wandering stars I've grown
by myself but not alone
I ask no one
...and my ties are severed clean
the less I have the more I gain
off the beaten path I reign
rover wanderer
nomad vagabond
call me what you will
but I'll take my time anywhere
I'm free to speak my mind anywhere
and I'll never mind anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
but i'll take my time anywhere
free to speak my mind
and I'll take my find anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
carved upon my stone
my body lie, but still I roam
wherever I may roam
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
From an Iceberg to a Desert
In your Igloo
My frozen thoughts
Never melts
And we go to a desert
I give you my old Camel
To find your precious dreamy Oasis,
Would your Mom & Dad give permission
For this vagabond Nomad?
* When I was a kid I grumbled with my poor Mom that I want ice cubes,
Then she said; 'We are poor darling and your Papa left for Aladdin's wonderful lamp.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Childhood
I lost my youth in search of my childhood
Nomad, I became, walking under the wood,
Now preparing to mingle into the mud
I cry 'O' Heaven, Don't stop, my ugly mood/
poem by Aftab Alam Khursheed
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wherever I May Roam
(whispered) ...and the road becomes my bride
...and the road becomes my bride
I have stripped of all but pride
so in her I do confide
and she keeps me satisfied
gives me all I need
...and with dust in throat I crave
only knowledge will I save
to the game you stay a slave
rover wanderer
nomad vagabond
call me what you will
but I'll take my time anywhere
free to speak my mind anywhere
and I'll redefine anywhere
anywhere I may road
where I lay my head is home
(whispered) ...and the earth becomes my throne
...and the earth becomes my throne
I adapt to the unknown
under wandering stars I've grown
by myself but not alone
I ask no one
...and my ties are severed clean
the less I have the more I gain
off the beaten path I reign
rover wanderer
nomad vagabond
call me what you will
but I'll take my time anywhere
I'm free to speak my mind anywhere
and I'll never mind anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
but i'll take my time anywhere
free to speak my mind
and I'll take my find anywhere
anywhere I may roam
where I lay my head is home
carved upon my stone
my body lie
song performed by by Metallica from Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I'm an adaptable nomad. I love Paris, I've been living in Los Angeles and New York since 1990. I love London, too. My roots are inside of me.
quote by Julie Delpy
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Zorah
An Arab beats upon a kettle drum,
And tuneless is the wailing of the flutes
As on the sands a slavegirl executes
Her dance of wantonwild delirium;
Her body swaying like a pendulum
Backwards and forwards, while in evolutes
She weaves and weaves before fierce pagan brutes
Who gaze at her in wonder that is dumb.
I look upon her limbs bronzed by the sun,
And see within her eyes strange caravans,
Marching all day across blank desert lands,
Until they come at night to where in rings
The Nomad fires glimmer, one by one,
around the tombs of longforgotten kings.
poem by Harry Crosby
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!