The Usual Happening
and so it happens
that he finally went to the wilderness
because his heart is bleeding
and he is in need of the cure
the silence in the desert
the extreme heat of the sun
the hope for the oasis
the dream of camels
the mercy of his beloved
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Distance Between Us
the distance between us
is a beautiful landmark of
mutual respect
when i sit alone savoring
the essence of my silence
you be the moon
when you speak your sorrow
to the sea
i shall be the beautiful corals
underneath
there is beauty in the wilderness
of our existence
i am the desert and you shall be
the wind
in the extreme heat of my sands
you shall be the
purple flower at dawn
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Camels And Donkeys
Camels have played their parts in the desert banks,
For the human traffic had been moblised with the help of the camels;
And of many years gone by on the desert rods to transport itwms,
With casting shadows on thier various tracks as they move along.
Now or never,
Mankind had made used of the camels for long!
And like a camel ride at the tourist centres in Egypt,
So be my guest on the desert zones of Africa! !
I have never seen anything like this before,
But with their fellow mates as the donkeys to help them along at times;
For the monkeys at your homes are always ready to play!
Camels and donkeys,
Used from old and to the present time;
And like a picturesque speech to evaluate yourself,
But long in a queue from sunrise to sunset as they move along with heavy loads! !
Camels and donkeys,
Feed them enough and they will do their works;
For the load carriers have nothing to say,
And they are the best animals around to help transport heavy loads along the desert routes.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Thrill Of Hope
you love and fail
and you want to die
the heart that loves and fails
shirks and shrinks like a drying grape to the desert sun
raisin, look at you, you have become a raisin
wrinkled fruit,
shrinked to the size minimal to the existence
desired, you dry some more, taking away all the life
possible in your skin and bone
the desert sun is cruellest
in you
so unforgiving so determined to shrink you
more than a raisin
this cruelty can turn you into a stone
the night has come
this thrill of hope comes like a comforting friend
to tell you raisin,
keep the sweetness still
for tomorrow's bitterest spill
the cruelest sun
the deadliest ever
on this desert sun the hottest sands
and you will not surrender
the hope is still there
the dream is this oasis somewhere
the bedouin and his coming camel
who knows? and when?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When The Rains Fall
I desert your sadness while
you oasis my wilderness
When the rains fall
poem by Moon Pseudo
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Desert Poem
we should have
asked
how the cactus decided
to grow
all the thorns around its
body
its long term
relationship with the desert
and the sun
its covenant with
the moon and stars
and the oasis
its kindness with
the camels and secrets
with Bedouins
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Self Bleeding Beatings
I will not and can't stand back...
To standby,
To see you in tears!
I wont!
Nor will I watch your head...
Going through the motions,
Over something that has been said!
By someone you don't know.
Or know us.
To keep you that upset.
If you,
Don't keep your ears on someone's lips...
You'll prove,
That you've freed yourself from pettiness...
And give the boot to excuses suffered.
Don't bluff.
Just do it.
We both could use the experience.
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Just because life seems extreme!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Even though you wanted your Rooster to rule.
With a stronger cock hold on the doodle-dee-doo!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Just because life seems extreme!
With an absence on the streets...
Of meaning.
I will not and can't stand back,
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
I will not and can't stand back,
Nope!
Just because life seems extreme!
With an absence on the streets...
Of meaning.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When Confronted By A Lousy Poem
after reading another
lousy poem
(i guess it could be like
mine, in the strict sense
of your standard
master academic
poet, multi awarded
poetess)
i decided to pause
for a while,
reflect, meditate,
cogitate,
blink, wink,
t h i n k t h i n k
give the writer the benefit of the doubt
due to his feelings
he must have these
within him/her
asking myself what prompts
him to write
i think it is not for fame,
for he will never have, he knows it
the world is filled already with a million famous men
and women
and there is no place anymore for one
like him
(or me, i know, don't bluff me
i know, don't ask me)
i think it is because he is like a snake
(Nothing bad about snakes
nothing metaphorically treacherous)
bitten by another snake, bleeding
and sliding his way in the sands of the
desert
looking for an oasis
a date palm
a branch of an olive tree
(is there an olive tree in the desert?
i have not gone there anyway
yet)
looking for a cure.
i then make a conclusion,
he deserves to be commended
for this bravery
of writing about
pain
at least writing about it
since he still does not know
of any cure
for pain, or if there is
i know, he knows, it is only
temporary
like the pain in our
hearts
(or asses if you will)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Love Song of Har Dyal
Alone upon the housetops to the North
I turn and watch the lightnings in the sky--
The glamour of thy footsteps in the North.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die.
Below my feet the still bazar is laid--
Far, far below the weary camels lie--
The camels and the captives of thy raid.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die!
My father's wife is old and harsh with years,
And drudge of all my father's house am I--
My bread is sorrow and my drink is tears.
Come back to me, Beloved, or I die!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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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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Afraid To Crack
soon there is no use of your fear
in due time
you crack
extreme heat
extreme cold
like a seed
your mind cracks
but do not lose hope
my dear
we all crack
on extreme pain
on extreme joys
we give room
for the seed
to grow
just wait
just wait
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Zeroing....
back to the desert
finding out that the only dater palm is dead
the oasis is gone
the caravan of camels and Bedouins
fade in the distance
the woman in silky veil
rides in her black horse
in the opposite direction
the howling sound of the night
shakes the full moon
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mercy
(Kurt Stevenson, Patrick Winningham, & Chris Boesel)
Originally recorded for the Georgia soundtrack
I got a feeling
of unrighteousness
bitter cold
hollow bitterness
down the road
I walk with loneliness
mercy will follow me I'm told
Beneath this skin
there lies a heart of stone
It's growing old
so very far, from home
but a heart of gold
I may someday own?
and mercy will follow me, I'm told
mercy will you follow me
mercy will you follow me
to the final breath at last I take
mercy will you follow me
mercy will you follow me
Till the chain of this old world I finally break.
My sister sang
songs so sweet and sad
bout a man
whos love I never had
there's a train
bound for gillian?
mercy will follow me I'm told
mercy will you follow me
mercy will you follow me
till my final breath at last I take
mercy will you follow me
mercy will you follow me
Till the chains of this old world I finally break
Till the chains of this old world I finally break
Till the chains of this old world I finally break
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Extremes, though contrary, have the like effects. Extreme heat kills, and so extreme cold: extreme love breeds satiety, and so extreme hatred; and too violent rigor tempts chastity, as does too much license.
quote by George Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oasis
OASIS
As an oasis of affection
amidst the wilderness of life
against adversity’s affliction
appears the image of a wife
17 August 1977
robi03_0140_robi03_0000 XXX_LXX
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Desolate
Cornered in the raw and empty--
Desolation-deserts sand filled hand-
Blanket of alibaster granules-
Grainy reminders of the Mojave-most grand;
Thirst-parched-mouth dried-
Heat dehydrated-hallucination---
A mirage coiled with a bent palm--
An oasis? -No-just my imagination;
Camels carry cargo-lumping along-
Tired in their long hemp gowns-
Sweat mired upon their tired brow-
Ah-the desert-steeped in light browns;
It makes no friends of anyone--
But does take away ones very breath-
Crossing this Hell Hole of endless vacuity-
Too soon-brings about dried death;
May 17,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Gaza (Palestine)
Stop the killing
Gaza is bleeding
She's bleeding dying kids
She's bleeding mothers' tears
Where is the leniency?
Let's overcome the inhumanity
Let's live with mercy
Let's have a life without brutality
Now we know the truth
We know the fake peace
We see the lies that devils try to smooth
We will fight for peace
Peace is what we are looking for
Peace screams and wails with every breath
Peace is the world cure
Peace is our desire on earth
poem by Muhammad Raza Master
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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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for J....
I am glad
having said
i could have loved you more...
it is sad
when love withers
due to your suns
when the desert bears more sands
because you hated more
about dreams of waters
rains are strangers
and the caravan of camels
are trains of thoughts
traveling at night
and not knowing what days are...
i am an oasis
and i have no place for you anymore
the leaves of my date palms
do not recognize your songs
anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Camel
I am like a camel wandering in a harsh and unforgiving desert. The heat manipulates my eyesight. The dunes warp and twirl subtly in front of me. I wonder to myself if whether or not the world has dried up, for I haven't seen water in miles and miles. My tongue lies in my mouth, shriveling like a prune, pitted and lightly bathed in crisped saliva. My spit is thick, coating my gums and teeth as if it were a translucent tar. I am thirsty, walking aimlessly—searching for some sort of lost oasis which may or may not exist. There must be a fresh pool standing alone somewhere; I dream of it in my parched thoughts. My skin burns—golden brown and tanning, cracking similar to the dusty, torrid dirt under my feet. The sun beats down hard on the barren land. I long for softer soil, to feel my toes dig into the porous ground. I wish for an all-encompassing shade to swallow the desiccating heat and the dehydrated swat droplets lining my brow. Where are you my palm tree? Can't you save me from my muscles turning to sand that slips from the sides of my bones? I wander in the harsh and unforgiving desert with only the water I've stored in my body. One day, it will be gone and I may still be looking for you, my lost and beautiful oasis.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Wandering the Desert as a Blind Man pts 1&2
I was Blind before you found me
And I couldnt find my way
Its a wonder that i can see
Now, I only hope your hear to stay
There was Darkness all around
Every motion frightened me
What was lost has now been found
And Babe you were the Key
Babe you led me to the Well
I was parched and took a drink
Before I was Blind and couldnt tell
Now, your Light has shown me what to think
The Desert took a hold of me
I was laying down on the floor
Now the Light has set me free
Drinkin all the Water and still wantin more
I dont live where the Water flows
Rivers and Lakes move to the Salty Sea
Couldnt Drink it anymore when I found where it goes
I want to live by an Oasis, Babe can you give it to me
I Wandered Blind through the Dry Wilderness
Trying to find the Sweetest Water i could find
Babe you Stumbled upon me in that emptyness
I was close to Death and you were much to kind
Im Living in a Desert and Thirsty all the time
Dry Sand and Dunes as far as the eye can See
I want to save this Water and make it mine
Babe let me stay, come and set me free
---------------------
Suddenly the lights grew dim
All around me was cast into dark
The well is at bottom when i thought it at the brim
I can see at least, but the pain has left its mark
The water inside has all gone
And nothing for miles theres desert all around
Its getting dark ill have to wait for dawn
In dry wilderness water makes no sound
Shall I rush to where the water flows
And wade in water chest deep
This I know is where everyone goes
But last time I went I was asleep
I was blind and wandered before
Alone and thirsty in the black abyss
I was close to death and lying on the floor
In the desert I had no idea that love exists
I cannot wait for your rains to fall
For the well is there no longer
Alone in the desert i begin to crawl
In the end i hope my soul is stronger
Its not all bad, you tought me how to see
Now alone at least I can find the stream
But still you are the sweetest water, please be with me
Come and talk to me so it doesnt turn into a dream
Please come, and rescue me from my slumber
Again alone I walk in the direction of the river
Hoping im in time, for death is calling out my number
Because alone in the dark, my soul begins to shiver
poem by Jake Andrews
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