Related quotes: Sun with its glowing grace...

Desert journey

Sun with its glowing grace raised,
Bending my knees for the divinity I praised,
To start my journey on that land,
Sunny and stromy the land of sand,
Sitting over a humpy animal to ride,
From my land to the sand side,
it seemed as the ocean dried,
in which no dropp of water laid,
Sun over my head was glowing,
Under the glowing sun I was streaming,
As I moved aside a oasi of blue water,
Its not less than a miracle matter,
As my camel moved his steps foward,
My journey in the desert continued further.

poem by Winston Dsouza Dsouza Taccode
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Related quotes

I Shall Not Be Moved

(words & music by homer morris)
Well lordy I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats growin in the meadow (down by the water)
I shall not be moved
Im on my way to glory land and I shall not be moved
On my way to glory land I will not be moved
Im like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
Well Im on my way to glory land and I shall not be moved
On my way to glory land I shall not be moved
Im like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
Oh well
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
On this rock of ages, I shall not be moved
On this rock of ages, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
Glory, glory, glory hallelujah, I shall not be moved
Glory hallelujah, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Terror In Sand

Is it terror to live in desert sand
and fear exploring the dried out land?
Of course it is. What do you think?
Not even a dropp of water to drink.

Is it terror to die in desert sand
and fear expiring because of man?
Of course it is.
How would you feel
ending up as a snakes's last meal?

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Ocean Land

Before eyes that are blind no more
A sight unseen that tears the soul
All we ever loved and known
Into mass graves is what we're shown"
"We see an ocean once was land"
& So they come to understand
This place where man used to be born
Will be man's water throne
"All that was magical, beautiful,
will be gone"
These measures call for divine intervention
"All the achievements of man,
one will stand all alone"
One that survives the final selection
"The sand in the hour glass,
moves so fast, slow the sand
And nothing that mankind has strived for
will be left in ocean land"
The rain will fall then
Filling the dried land
"Here are we, servants three
flesh and blood
Poor and weak,
hear thou speak of the flood"
It must be a sign
A message from God's hand

song performed by by Orphaned Land
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Small Drop Of Water

The pounding of the ocean waves
as they break upon the sand
is a reminder of the tremendous strength
of water surrounding the land.

The peaceful lapping of aqua water
as it rolls upon the sand
graces us with its gentleness
just as the Creator planned.

The saltiness in the great big seas
tastes just like your tears.
For the water that's within us
calls us close to the piers.

Sitting quietly, breathing it in,
You become one with it all.
The magnificence of the scene
makes you feel so small.

And yet as you sit there under the skies
it makes you realize
that you are a part of this wonder
no matter how small your size.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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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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Ocean Man

Ocean man, take me by the hand, lead me to the land that you understand
Ocean man, the voyage to the corner of the globe is a real trip
Ocean man, the crust of a tan man embibed by the sand
Soaking up the thirst of the land
Ocean man, can you see through the wonder of amazement at the oberman
Ocean man, the crust is elusive when it casts forth to the childlike man
Ocean man, the sequence of a life form braised in the sand,
Soaking up the thirst of the land
Ocean man, ocean man
Ocean man
[repeat verses]
Ocean man

song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In A Foreign Land

It was a matter of fact that when I paid all my tax
I held my world in the palm of my hand
And all of my debts were causing me to defect
To a land of bananas and sand
So I ran, yes I ran, yes I ran to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am
Here I am in a foreign land
Im so glad we made it
I thought wed never land
I grabbed all my cash
And decided to dash far away
Far away, far away to a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
Goodbye to all of the rich mans daughters
Goodbye to my debts now Im way cross the water
Far away, far away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am here I am in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la
Please tell my mother and all my ex-lovers
That Ive finally made the grade
Please tell my debtors and the money collectors
That all of my bills will be paid some day
Im away, Im away, far away in a foreign land
Goodbye champagne and caviar set
I wanna slum and drink all the rum I can get
Im away, Im away in a foreign land
Here I am, here I am, here I am in a foreign land
But Im all out of my jack and I cant go back
Im away, far away, far away in a foreign land
La la la la la la
La la la la la la

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Pacific ocean love pt.2

I went to the ocean
for a day
the waves and the sand
kept melancholy at bay

soaking and burning
in this salt
water pot
cleansing my soul
when God would not

my life
in pieces
scattered across
a barren land

I was baptized
in the Ocean
where the heavens
meet the sand

poem by Bryan Alexander
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Not at all pleasant

Journey from the Stream,
with a pot of water on the head,
Strugling from side to side,
in a Narrow path.
Stoney and wild.

A big pot on the head,
filled with water, pure and clean.
Opens to the air is the Pot.
Strugling, Strugling she goes,
all over her is wet.

Just half the Journey she's gone,
strugling, stumbling and fighting
with the Road and Pot on her head.
Viewing her destination she smiled,
She takes a sigh of relief.

Just about ending her Journey,
She stumbles, with no helping hand,
No rescue, no one to call,
No strength to guide the Pot;
Down it goes.

Water, water every where.
she cries, bitterly weeping.
Oh! back on the Journey she returns,
Like a sheep with no shepherd.
Hmm! what a World.

poem by Jackson Nyoho
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By The Riverside

A GREAT green spread of meadow land,
(Must rest his weight on an ample base),
A secret water moving on,
A clean blue air for his breathing-space,
A pair of willows bending down
In double witness to his grace,
And on the rock his sinner sprawls
And looks the Strong One face to face.

The sinner's mocking tongue is dry,
Wonder is on that mighty jeerer,
He loves, and he never loved before,
He wants the glowing sky no nearer,
He likes the willows to be two,
He would not have the water clearer,
He thinks that God is perfect once:
Heaven, rejoice! a new God-fearer.

And now each quiet thing awakes
And dances madly, wavers, dips;
These are God's motions on the air,
His Pulse for the sinner's finger-tips,
His arrows shot across the blue,
His love-words dropping from his lips,
And who ever heard such whisperings,
Who ever saw such fellowships?

poem by John Crowe Ransom
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If I Was Jesus

I'm just a middle-aged, middle-eastern camel herdin' man
I got a, 2 bedroom cave here in North Afghanistan
Things used to be real cool and they got out of hand when they moved in
They call themselves the Taliban
(ooooo yeah the taliban) (taliban baby)
Now I ain't seen my wife's face since they came here
They make her wear a scarf over her head that covers her from ear to ear
She loves the desert and the hot white sand
But man she's just like me, nah she can't stand
The Taliban (ooo taliban baby)
You know someday soon we're both gonna saddle up and it'll be
Ride Camel Ride
My old lady she'll be here with me, smilin right by my side
We should do just fine down in Palestine or maybe Turkmenistan
We'll bid a fair adieu and flip the finger to the Taliban
(oh yeah the taliban) (baby)
Now they attacked New York City cause they thought they could win
Said they would, stand and fight until the very bloody end
Mr Bush got on the phone with Iraq and Iran and said "Now, you
knuckle-heads you better not be doin any business with the taliban"
(Taliban baby)
So we prayed to Allah with all of our might
And then those big U.S. jets came flyin one night
They dropped little bombs all over our holy land
And man you should have seen em run like rabbits, they ran
(the taliban)
You know someday soon we're both gonna saddle up and it'll be
Ride Camel Ride
My old lady she'll be here with me, smilin right by my side
We should do real fine down around Palestine or maybe Turkmenistan
We'll bid a fair audo and flip a couple fingers to the Taliban
(oh yeah, taliban)
we'll bid a fair adieu and flip a finger to The Taliban (baby)

song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Taliban

song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cattle-Dog's Death

The Plains lay bare on the homeward route,
And the march was heavy on man and brute;
For the Spirit of Drought was on all the land,
And the white heat danced on the glowing sand.

The best of our cattle-dogs lagged at last,
His strength gave out ere the plains were passed,
And our hearts grew sad when he crept and laid
His languid limbs in the nearest shade.

He saved our lives in the years gone by,
When no one dreamed of the danger nigh,
And the treacherous blacks in the darkness crept
On the silent camp where the drovers slept.

‘The dog is dying,’ a stockman said,
As he knelt and lifted the shaggy head;
‘’Tis a long day’s march ere the run be near,
‘And he’s dying fast; shall we leave him here?’

But the super cried, ‘There’s an answer there!’
As he raised a tuft of the dog’s grey hair;
And, strangely vivid, each man descried
The old spear-mark on the shaggy hide.

We laid a ‘bluey’ and coat across
The camping pack of the lightest horse,
And raised the dog to his deathbed high,
And brought him far ’neath the burning sky.

At the kindly touch of the stockmen rude
His eyes grew human with gratitude;
And though we parched in the heat that fags,
We gave him the last of the water-bags.

The super’s daughter we knew would chide
If we left the dog in the desert wide;
So we brought him far o’er the burning sand
For a parting stroke of her small white hand.

But long ere the station was seen ahead,
His pain was o’er, for the dog was dead
And the folks all knew by our looks of gloom
’Twas a comrade’s corpse that we carried home.

poem by Henry Lawson
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Dripping Water

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the horizon of heaven,
on the land, on the sand,
makes me happy, and so elated,

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the dark black clouds,
on the leaves, on the tress,
gives them a slow quick bath,

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the thunderstruck light,
on the eyes, on the cheeks,
makes everyone to turn the face up!

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the beauty of sky,
onthe mud, on the rivers,
makes musical splashes when gets strike,

Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the love of vast scream,
to the beautiful murmors of land,
makes me sing, and dance.

poem by Tayyeba Mustafa
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To The Land

To the land of bribes,
To the land of telephones,
To the land of corruptions,
To the land of trains,
To the land of shops,
To the land of thieves,
To the land of connections,
To the land of drugs,
To the land of trucks,
To the land of cats,
To the land of Banks,
To the land of dogs, To the land of footballers,
To the land of dragons,
To the land of hope,
To the land of ice-cream,
To the land of potatoes,
To the land of chocolates,
To the land of tomatoes,
To the land of apples,
To the land of coffee,
To the land of lights,
To the land of ships,
To the land of birds,
To the land of tigers,
To the land of carpets,
To the land of pillows,
To the land of lions,
TO the land of toys,
To the land of horses,
To the land of beds,
To the land of roses,
To the land of love,
To the land of passion,
To the land of romance;
I never new women do snore until i married one.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Land, Ho!

I know ’tis but a loom of land,
Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice,
I know I cannot hear His voice
Upon the shore, nor see Him stand;
Yet is it land, ho! land.

The land! the land! the lovely land!
‘Far off,’ dost say? Far off—ah, blessèd home!
Farewell! farewell! thou salt sea-foam!
Ah, keel upon the silver sand—
Land, ho! land.

You cannot see the land, my land,
You cannot see, and yet the land is there—
My land, my land, through murky air—
I did not say ’twas close at hand—
But—land, ho! land.

Dost hear the bells of my sweet land,
Dost hear the kine, dost hear the merry birds?
No voice, ’tis true, no spoken words,
No tongue that thou may’st understand—
Yet is it land, ho! land.

It’s clad in purple mist, my land,
In regal robe it is apparellèd,
A crown is set upon its head,
And on its breast a golden band—
Land, ho! land.

Dost wonder that I long for land?
My land is not a land as others are—
Upon its crest there beams a star,
And lilies grow upon the strand—
Land, ho! land.

Give me the helm! there is the land!
Ha! lusty mariners, she takes the breeze!
And what my spirit sees it sees—
Leap, bark, as leaps the thunderbrand—
Land, ho! land.

poem by Thomas Edward Brown
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Killing Fountains

I see rockets in the desert sky
I see flesh and blood and I dont know why
Ive seen fathers and Ive seen them die
Ive seen mothers and their daughters cry
Surprised soldiers with holes in their heads
Smiling presidents sweating in their beds
Dreaming of the land where the black gold flows
Where the sun always shines
And the desert wind blows
Its always one step forward and two steps back
They stumble and fall and break their necks
In the land of the killing fountains
Once it was gods land in the middle-ages
Now blue helmets try to stop the rage
While rocket launchers burn the sand
Thats what you call the promised land
Its always one step forward and two steps back
They stumble and fall and break their necks
In the land of the killing fountains
You can kill bodies but you cant kill religion
This is the truth and peace is the fiction
In the land of the killing fountains
And millions die with a silent smile
Seven days a week and the years pass by
In the land of the killing fountains
Where the black gold flows
Where the desert wind blows

song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Radar

A Postscript for Marianne Moore

No one exactly knows
Exactly how clouds look in the sky
Or the shape of the mountains below them
Or the direction in which fish swim.
No one exactly knows.
The eye is jealous of whatever moves
And the heart
Is too far buried in the sand
To tell.

They are going on a journey
Those deep blue creatures
Passing us as if they were sunshine
Look
Those fins, those closed eyes
Admiring each last dropp of the ocean.

I crawled into bed with sorrow that night
Couldn’t touch his fingers. See the splash
Of the water
The noisy movement of cloud
The push of the humpbacked mountains
Deep at the sand’s edge.

poem by Jack Spicer
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The Migration

I look upon the skies to see
A myriad flutt`ring wings
And hear above a symphony
A choir of feathered kings

Their music echoes through my mind
To fill my heart with joy
Such freedom do I seek to find
And earthly cares destroy

Lit by the moon`s soft glowing light
Their journey lingers on
Towards the dark expanse of night
Towards the distance sun

I know not where their journey wends
What verdant land their prize
Perhaps `tis where the rainbow ends
Perchance `tis Paradise

poem by Valerie Dohren
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