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S I N Dec 2019
Some time already I’ve been walking,
Mu tongue dried out from lack of talking,
My feet was bleeding through the holes
In leather boots which had no soles;
The barren land behind me Was,
In front of me (of sunken nose)
Was nothing better, nothing worse
Just the landscape as well hoarse
With not one herb, or rill or well;
Not e’en vicinities of hell
I’m sure were such a wretched view,
Where e’en a little drop of dew
Was worthy of the Holy Grail,
Let alone the brook, or dale
To cool yourself in misty shade
Where miseries somehow will fade
For so a little, though, albeit
The swarming thoughts itself may mate
Into one pleasant revery
Begotten by the freshing lee..
I dropped in fancy for a moment
But limbs of mine that were so swollen
Reminded of themselves with pain..
So I proceed my way again
Joseph Rice Dec 2019
The alien looks out across his
Desert
all sand blasted stones and sun bleached
Bones.
But this is the world.
Bright
and totally alone.

Howling wind brings
Little hope
for connection.
Scent drives wild heart’s sole invention.
Grains of sand rip skin and soul
Driven by time's windy flow
Similar themes to some others I've written, this is the first one I wrote using this theme.
Walking along a desert, a fool,
Thirst prolonged, a heat unbearable,
As if a passion is stirring,
Screaming, is the fool,
For allowing the desert to consume him.
Alas in the distance he finds the oasis,
Shimmering bright with a lovely invitation,
Radiance divine she invites him, though
The fool is not trusting, perhaps a mirage,
A trick for the trickster. But no,
The fool enters his oasis;
Castor beans and rosary peas with the beautiful Oleander
Adorn and decorate the oasis.
Beauty contrasted by the harsh desert around,
The fool smiles.
Mark Toney Nov 2019
Baking, broiling, blindingly bright, blistering sun,

super scorching, sweltering, sizzling sand

the kabob that is my body searing, skewered

Deceptively blue skies devoid of any deliverance

no cavalry of clouds coming to convey compassion

Rising balloon-like bubbles of hot air

causing distant objects to ripple and dance

shimmering in the atmospheric boil

Falling to my knees, I detect in the distance

glimmering patches of blue and green—Mirage!

A maniacal mime of molten mockery

deriding my dreadful demise




Mark Toney © 2019
11/19/2019 - Poetry form: Imagism - I wrote "Mirage" using the Imagism style, with a generous portion of alliteration thrown in for good measure. Don't stare at the sun without proper eye protection! - Mark Toney © 2019
Tiger Striped Nov 2019
Euphoria sewed her golden ecstasy
in the scathing arms of the sun
we knew our world was hers when
the last of the ocean had evaporated
and we had drunk our tears away
with nowhere and nothing to hide
we joyfully traipse through desert heat
like newlyweds, heading towards the Honey Moon
singing dead romantic words
of antiquated crystalline towers
where young maidens once were trapped
'til summer sounded her blissful clarion
and her castle melted into the fallow earth:
this is the beginning of a new era
of heavenly heat
we will all burn together.
I stand on the cliff
Watching the world
Enjoying itself
While it twirls

But the sun beats
On my back
As I acknowledge this
It burns my skin
To a crisp

I look out
But nothing comes by
Just the swirling
Of the sky
Bhill Oct 2019
The lizard made its way straight up the rock wall
Such adhesion on those rocks with his fragile-looking claws
What was he running from, or to, with such desert dignity
What would you call the motions of these little creatures
Bodies moving back and forth like other slithering reptiles
Fascinating....

Brian Hill - 2019 # 251
Are you fascinated by lizards. Moving down here has brought a whole new appreciation to the little ones.
Bryce Sep 2019
Even now,

The lone pine
Stretched its dry roots
And gentle,
embraces
the lime
Of rock,

This sky gives me no comfort,
A fallow plain
Empty of rain
Rolling winds across
the Firmament

And the needles whimper
In the autumn breeze
As a field of clouds churns
In the mountains
At the horizon

The day is lost here--
Where time comes and goes with
No witness,
For the ancient sea
Is but talc and bone

And in the distance,
The glimmer of a car window
Reflecting the sun.
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