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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Related quotes
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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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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On A Dry Desert
on a dry desert
the night is cold
the moon and
stars keep on
shining, and on
the day the
caravan keeps
on moving,
the sun and dusts
keep them
going
the dream for
the oasis
somewhere
or perhaps of
the sea or
perhaps of the
river
still fills the mind
for those
who are searching
for the water.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Poetry Of Smell
a smell, your smell,
that perfume that sticks
to my skin,
your sweat, that wetness
between us,
dry before us, desert sand,
nothing to talk about oasis,
camels in a caravan
under the stars one evening,
you are my tent,
i live there, but you are not
there, there is this blankness
that i face within me,
there is this trail that smells
like you, i follow,
and then i stop, it is not us
there, there is no us,
there is the star that shines
one evening
it does not last,
but every evening it comes
back to me,
too near, in my mind,
too far, in reality.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fade To Black
Sunday matinee
In a one dog town
Youre two seats away
I move two seats down
Wipe the tears from your eyes
The first kiss I stole
I walk you home
The credits roll
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
I hear my voice
On the telephone
But Im just running
The same old business
I feel like Im off
Somewhere so alone
Just watching us both
Running the distance
Watching us both
Slowly pull back
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
I come home
Clothes all over the place
Youre crying in the corner
Makeup running down your face
Your case is packed
The fight starts
I (? ? ? ? ? ) cursin
Baby is this the scene
Which we been rehearsin
Is this the one
Or have I lost track
Waitin for us
To fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
A face wet with shame
Eyes filled with hurt
I scream out your name
You rip my shirt
A small bungalow
A late afternoon
The sunlight falls
Like a bright veil
A camera pans
An empty room
The picture dissolves
Slowly pulls back
Fade to black
Fade to black
Fade to black
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In These Restless Hours....
in these restless hours
one wakes up to share what
innately is also
restless...
thoughts are wanderers
in a caravan of camels
under the full moon amidst
the coldness of dawns...
the desert howls like a fox
asking for names
i whisper my name to the wind
so all the sands of time may know
that i have allowed
to be counted in
in these restless hours
we are too, part of the pack of
those restless creatures
see our shadows under the fullness of the
moon treading the desert sands of time
the foxes, the bats, the snakes,
the cockroaches, the gnats
and the nits and lice.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Some Questions To Himself
he suspects he must
have said something that
offends your
divine sense
for you have gone away
like a sigh
at night,
he thinks the mind of the
deep well, the only oasis
in your Sahara
what poisonous insect flew
over there
that rips the senses of the
fullness of the
water
on the other hand,
he justifies his decision to stop
thinking about the righteous
camel that walks the desert
with the Bedouins
there is more beauty to the moon
now that he is alone
whispering nothings to the distant stars
dreaming about the sea
wondering if the starfish is still there
trysting with the
urchins.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How thick the veil this night – this summer night
How thick the veil this night – this summer night
The long thick veil of Night!
How wander we
Down steps and down
The eerie city streets – at night all desolate
And our paces echo and re-bound
Into the shrine of sacred silence
Into the night of dark they fade
And fade.
And as
We go down
And by the sea
We saw the moon
The languid moon
Leap in to sea!
What suicide!
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Dryness
there are deserts
of relationship.
i've been there
and i will find myself
back in there
at least, with this experience
i had with camels and oasis
and mirage
now, i shall know how to manage
the sands
slipping from my fingers
the date palms and the
full moon
and the sandstorms
and then
the same thing happens
you ultimately find the sea
and the port
and hands waving
welcoming you back home.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Overcoming The Pains Of Reading Too Much
when the eyes ache
i see camels on a journey to a long desert at night time
the aches are but temporary
a contrary thought that wants the pleasure of the dumb
it shies away from the pages of a book
desert sands at noontime
skulls of horses and skeletons of
some brave Bedouins
losing everything for the love
of the unknown
oasis,
i battle for more air in my lungs
as simple as a series of sighs and deep breaths
a roomful of
fresh air from the window of trees
then the sign of the triumphant flag is sounded
at the temple of ivory
these eyes are clear ponds now
not a fish lives here
it is a diamond with many faces
a winning of psychiatric wars
a proclamation of sanity regained after too much struggle for
the purity of intentions
the world is calm
there are no ripples of doubt now
pain is a mathematical problem that you have solved
a formula is found and like the rest of these eurekas
comes now the
explosion, a big explosion,
this time everyone is saved
it is not what you think, you have been honestly suspicious
now, shout.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Last Stage
a crooked line straightens itself
finally with a beeping sound, not once,
penetrating, traveling to an insistence,
it is turned off. A sob from a little girl
beside the bed. A punch on the wall
of a man's fist. A white blanket covering
a pair of eyes. Blankness.
a caravan of nomads, a camel a desert
a dark night, full moon, a distant call and then
sleep and silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Deep Werewolf Dream
I'm howling at the moon
Always searching for you
I know you’re in the night
Wanting to taste and bite
Moving through the forest
With a dangerous quick speed
Looking, searching through the crimson night
Can you hear me calling?
Could this be possible?
Or could it be our fate
Are you my nightmare?
Or my one true mate
The moon shining on me from above
Showing a way from me to you
Such a feeling of magic embraces me
Is this what it feels like to be near you?
Such warmth, such love
Makes me want howl
The trees start to move back and forth
Pushing me to you, will you come too?
As silky grass rub against my feet
So hurry and find me
And use the moon
And hear my call howl
Follow my love and listen to the tune
Follow my love
Follow me
Straight to the full moon
poem by Tierra Fisher
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When She Dies
with all that she did
denying to her children what they ought to deserve
she will not get the funeral she asks
no one weeps
but for civil society's norms
for a while she will wear the black veil
he will wear black sunglasses
and then he will be back to drinking at night
she will we wailing in the desert
the moon shall hide behind the dark clouds on a cold evening.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When She Dies (edited)
with all that she did
denying to her children what they ought to deserve
she will not get the funeral she asks
no one weeps
but for civil society's norms
for a while she will wear the black veil
he will wear black sunglasses
and then he will be back to drinking at night
she will be wailing in the desert
the moon shall hide behind the dark clouds on a cold evening.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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At a pan at night
In the dark night I hear horse hoofs
coming on thundering
and there are sparks
bursting from the quartz rocks.
In the sky
there’s a sickle moon
and the hairs
on my arms raise
while blue thunder
fall like shots around me
and I can smell fire and sulphur
on the wind.
For a moment
while a church bell
rings of midnight in the distance,
there’s a horse standing neighing
on its back feet.
Just one look
frightens me past being awake
when another lightning bolt
strikes down next to us
and a horse
with a man without head
passes me at great speed.
In the distance at a ruin
I see an old woman in white
with a shrill voice
cutting through the night.
“Can nothing stop you
Jan van der Meer? ”
[Reference: Die ruiter van skimmelperdpan by A.G. Visser. A legend from the second Anglo-Boer war.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Mad Wolves
Wolves running wild
Beast and beauty,
Howling full moon instigates
The dead to rise above
And watch us as to
Try and cause some
Paranoid state so we
Don’t disturb their eternal
Bliss.
These wolves,
Mad wolves, brute in
Nature.
Howling at full moon they
Are transformed in beauty and
Beastly eloquent hunting manner,
The calling of the dead to rise.
These wolves, dead wolves
And humans too kill to
Survive.
Then sleep
When the sun rises over Atlantic
Coast.
poem by Randy Briggs
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The Celibate
as expected the celibate
has written a poem about a desert
the listener junks it
for it makes her feel thirst and gives
a hint on death
the poem is revised
speaking now about the princess bathing
in the oasis
singing
attracting the black bird perched on
the date palm
she rises from the water
her breasts supple to the wind
she is waiting for the horse riding Bedouin
to carry her
to his kingdom
the reader is overjoyed in this
and sheds
the tears of joy
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Regina is Regina
There are is fine woman,
girl woman's, girls, there is Regina.
This creature, will see her man cultivate
the eyes of others, not in the simplistic way
the others have so thought.
Woman run the world, woman, smart woman
run there man, not foolishly as stupid chattel
to the ground.
These creatures trust there charge, in silky hot
words, they do reveal the minds of which the rest in
shame , would hide.
He, of her Regina's if it does wrong, never would the
sound of pain from her firm hand,
ever touch or reach your ears, to say.
Except by way of the scullery maid, rich full, chamber
pots in hand, such for some is rich desert.
poem by Is It Poetry
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nORTH
there is no need for you to ask
because there is nothing to be understood
there is no answer
and there will be no answer that will satisfy
the thirst of your mouth
and your mind
stay there and listen
see the unfolding of that which closes and
opens before you
this is rather exciting
a mushroom standing on its own roof
an anemone opening and closing its fingers
in the slightest notice of your presence
the rocks and the sands are terrible
they stand there
witnesses of so many crimes against the sea
yet their silence is sealed with the permanence
of the hiding, a concealment of
things which must not be revealed.
there is nothing here worthy reading
there is nothing waiting for an understanding
there is only a state upon itself
without a clap, a buzz, a slip of the tongue.
why must one insist that there is a code
a hidden secret embedded in one of the words
a phrase to guide to the exact location of
the treasure of Monte Cristo.
Let us be silent. Nothing is meant.
Nothing is called. Nothing is trapped.
There is only a caravan of words like camels
in the desert. They do not know a thing
about this journey.
It is only me. The Bedouin with an oasis
mapped in the lines of my palm.
A star overhead. The North of my existence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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