The Walls
A green smoke was rising
to ferret out
the elusive pain
without body.
I went in search of
fidgety words
to patch up the conflicts
of flesh.
Bold as Passiflora,
Crucifixion was complete.
Today a gift of obeyance
will arrive.
It was a fake.
The eyes on the hump.
Camel has to cross
a steep desert.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Parrot And The Ferrett
Jolly Polly parrot said to the fast, fidgety ferret,
“You want some of my food before I eat all this carrot? ”
Well the fast, fidgety ferret as usual was in a real hurry
And didn’t have time to eat since he only had time to scurry.
So he said, “Thanks, but no thanks. I must be on my way.
It seems like there’s never enough hours for me in a day.”
Then jolly Polly parrot frowned at fidgety and said,
“Unless you change your ways, my friend, you’ll soon be dead.
Fast fidgety ferret, you must eat well to keep your body sound
Or you’re going to get sick and become part of the ground.”
That was indeed a scary thought for fast, fidgety ferret
So he asked jolly Polly for some ideas that might have merit.
“I think that three healthy meals and some regular rest and play”
Said Polly to fidgety, “Now that will give you a better day.”
Fast fidgety thought and then smiled at his friend Polly parrot,
And happily said, “I’ll do it. Now my new name is just Ferret.”
poem by Gregory Huyette
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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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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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How the Camel Got His Hump
The Camel's hump is an ugly lump
Which well you may see at the Zoo;
But uglier yet is the hump we get
From having too little to do.
Kiddies and grown-ups too-oo-oo,
If we haven't enough to do-oo-oo,
We get the hump--
Cameelious hump--
The hump that is black and blue!
We climb out of bed with a frouzly head,
And a snarly-yarly voice.
We shiver and scowl and we grunt and we growl
At our bath and our boots and our toys;
And there ought to be a corner for me
(And I know' there is one for you)
When we get the hump--
Cameelious hump--
The hump that is black and blue!
The cure for this ill is not to sit still,
Or frowst with a book by the fire;
But to take a large hoe and a shovel also,
And dig till you gently perspire;
And then you will find that the sun and the wind,
And the Djinn of the Garden too,
Have lifted the hump--
The horrible hump--
The hump that is black and blue!
I get it as well as you-oo-oo--
If I haven't enough to do-oo-oo!
We all get hump--
Cameelious hump--
Kiddies and grown-ups too!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Camels Hump
The Camel's hump is an ugly lump
Which well you may see at the Zoo;
But uglier yet is the hump we get
From having too little to do.
Kiddies and grown-ups too-oo-oo,
If we haven't enough to do-oo-oo,
We get the hump-
Cameelious hump-
The hump that is black and blue!
We climb out of bed with a frouzly head,
And a snarly-yarly voice.
We shiver and scowl and we grunt and we growl
At our bath and our boots and our toys;
And there ought to be a corner for me
(And I know' there is one for you)
When we get the hump-
Cameelious hump-
The hump that is black and blue!
The cure for this ill is not to sit still,
Or frowst with a book by the fire;
But to take a large hoe and a shovel also,
And dig till you gently perspire;
And then you will find that the sun and the wind,
And the Djinn of the Garden too,
Have lifted the hump-
The horrible hump-
The hump that is black and blue!
I get it as well as you-oo-oo-
If I haven't enough to do-oo-oo!
We all get hump-
Cameelious hump-
Kiddies and grown-ups too!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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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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You had best bow down. The camel holds out in the desert thanks to its hump.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
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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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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One camel does not make fun of another camel's hump.
One camel does not make fun of the other camel's hump.
A camel does not joke about the hump of another camel.
My Ferret Sees a Therapist
My ferret sees a therapist,
On Wednesdays after sipping tea.
I thought it best to seek out counseling
To help me adjust to her personality.
Neither dog or cat nor weasel or squirrel,
Her therapist suggested I should call her Earl.
And when I called her Earl, she'd stare...
'I'm a Duchess, damnit! A lady! Don't you dare! '
Of course, my ferret receives much attention.
Some think she's a rodent of unusual dimension!
She's funny and bright and quicker than most.
My neighbors downstairs feed her whole wheat toast!
Yes, she's got us all in the palm of her paws.
Naturally, I'm flattered, amused and awed!
But somehow, I admit, she has me quite confused.
I can search and search and...'She finds my shoes! '
Smirking as she brings them chewed to me!
My obvious displeasure has her dancing with glee!
My ferret sees a therapist,
On Wednesdays after sipping tea.
On Thursdays I will go alone,
Since my ferret and the therapist
Agree this is best for me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Loreena mckennitt, THE OLD WAYS
IN the desert
A camel
A lady
Riding
Against an orange sky
The lady in silk
She is running away
From the hot sun
In the desert
The sun is confident
Following her
In the full view
After all, the desert where the camel
And the woman walk
Is the sun’s best friend.
The usual old ways do not know betrayal.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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True Love (Crucifixion)
must true love
always come to crucifixion?
who drives the nails?
who stands at the foot
of the cross and weeps?
who carried the cross?
who conducted the trial?
and who are the faceless ones
who stand and jeer?
who judges life worth giving,
and how much does love demand?
will love forgive?
does love have a name?
who'll bury the body?
who'll guard the tomb?
and on the third day,
who'll roll away the stone?
our journeys together,
wrapped into oneness.
the price of flesh become spirit,
the scars and the moments.
who hangs on this cross,
and who put them there?
do we do it to each other,
or do we do it to ourselves?
and resurrection,
the mere brush of a hand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The camel never sees his own hump, but that of his brother is always in his eyes.
Commentries
This was my book of pain
with no ending.
Life had two meanings-
Anticipation of today,
and fear of tomorrow.
Time was running out
like sand from fists,
mists were rising,
commentaries on setting sun had begun.
Mind was calculating, computing all the time
the duality of desire.
I wanted to catch the words,
the movement of grief,
the completeness of a thought.
It came as a stroke-
the revelation of self.
We did not want to break
the bondage of problems.
It was complete annihilation
of our identity.
We loved conflicts
we loved to hate.
We adored the disorientation.
The violence of our thoughts
created an empty wasteland.
poem by Satish Verma
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Bride
The nun leaves
the warm parlour
off the cloister
and feels the cloisters' cold
and biting frost of early dawn.
Each bite and nip
of toes and fingertips
a minor crucifixion.
My self my enemy
you shall not win.
The cross signifies
the crossing out of I,
the I's greed and wants
and selfish such.
There is birdsong.
Smell that blossom.
Do not rush, walk as told,
remember that.
Sense that cold.
Feel those nails,
hammering flesh,
co-joined with Christ,
as His bride, day
and tortured night.
See that fresh born sun;
night's moon shies away.
The nun pauses.
Sniffs the air.
The time of bleeding.
Tombstone of another's death.
She sees, smoke like,
her rising breath.
poem by Terry Collett
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Where Did You Sleep Last Night? (live)
My girl, my girl
Don't lie to me
Tell me where did you sleep last night
In a patch, in a patch
Where the sun never shines
And my body shivered all night
My girl, my girl
Don't lie to me
Tell me where did you sleep last night
In a patch, in a patch
Where the sun never shines
And my body shivered all night
Her husband was a hard working man
Killed a mile and a half from here
His head was found on a driving wheel
And his body never was found
My girl, my girl
Don't lie to me
Tell me where did you sleep last night
In a patch, in a patch
Where the sun never shines
My body shivered all night
My girl, my girl
Where will you go
To a place where the cold wind blows
To a patch, to a patch
Where the sun never shines
And my body shivers all night
My girl, my girl
Don't lie to me
Tell me where did you sleep last night
In a patch, in a patch
Where the sun never shines
And my body shivered all night
song performed by by Hole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Our Silence....
for nude images
we may put some words
for further flesh
for the nudes before us
the beauty of the curves and bold colors
shades of dim and pale and twilight
whispers of the unrequited longings of dawn
gasps of the possibility of fulfillment
no words are ever enough
let the hands do it for the body
let the body free
do not restrain the use of words
lick whatever silence offers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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