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R J Coman Jul 2019
All I knew is gone now,
I think.

Even the place I slept at night
is barren and strange.
Lights shine in windows,
but inside it is silent.

Even the people I called friends
are as distant to me
as dry spires in a desert,
breaking the shifting horizon.

Even my own beautiful eyes
betray no emotion to me:
only the puzzled gaze
of a stranger I thought I knew.
Anastasia Jun 2019
Your eyes
Ice in
A pool of lava
Cool stones
Against feverish flesh
An ocean
Against the lips of a desert
Your beautiful
Blue
Eyes
c.b.❤
Ashley Kaye Jun 2019
I feel as if Life
has run me dry.
Its vast Opportunity,
my Inaction,
consumed
the last oasis

Now they, dry bones
Brittle hulls of beetles
scuttle amid sameness
We starve
for color
not dripping in red.


Nothing much thrives
In these hills
Natural word poem the 3rd. June 2019
Ilonka Jun 2019
I want to go there where the paths end
where I can touch the sky,
the shadow of a grown oak from old ages to be my home and its branches to be my roof,
silence to be my friend when loneliness becomes hostile
and the twilight wind to comfort my body when I feel this ridiculous longing for you...

I want to go where I can be alone with the sea the blue infinity to breathe in, to feel it even in my bones,
I want to cool down on black lava rocks grown from the sea
thirsty waves to kiss me in live rhythms that I receive with sweet smiles lost in infinity ...

I want to go there in empty deserts
where the brass light does not spare any thoughts
melting small, dark minds already darkened by our master
that leads our lives with ego and pride ...

I want to go where the face of the night smiles at me and darkness accepts me as a child of his own,
there in the moon's web to fall asleep undisturbed
caught in a dream to swim with dancing stars in the waltz of the infinite cosmos.
Bhill Jun 2019
As we roam about the desert we learn to see what's there
The rocks, the dirt, the cactus, and the wildly blue sky glare

The creatures of this land can take on the heat that's here in stride
Turtles, snakes, and all the lizards take it on, with desert pride

Checking out the rock formations, that took many, many years
Shapes and colors, of these rocks, reflect their beginning, it appears

Reflecting for a minute, while gazing upon this land
Will open up your mind and give you much more than you planned

The desert, as we know it, can be a hostile place for sure
Wonderfully, beautiful and hostile, makes it mystical and so pure...

Brian Hill - 2019 # 154
Picture credit goes to Kevin Monson, our friend
Living in the desert has its visual advantage for sure.  
It seems to inspire some words as well.
Chris Saitta Jun 2019
The cicada husk of the crescent moon sheds in cyclides light,
Molted whispers of life, spread like perfume behind the ear,
Or like silver earrings unadorned and scattered around the night-lit table.
Here too, the garden gown of Babylon lies heaped in soiled ruin,
Beaten down to sand at the foot of the bed of the Tigris and Euphrates.
  
Though the dunes are its aerial, root-bound springs,
Though the underground nymphs tend with cicala wings,
And underspurt of incessant summer song to lure
The resurrection rose of Jericho to bud once more,
In desert-faith for the hanging garden of a full moon.
“Cyclides” are more formally known as Dupin cyclides, which are geometric forms that can be ring-shaped, parabolic ring-shaped, or take other similar shapes.

Almost all cicadas (also called cicalas), including periodical cicadas, live primarily as underground nymphs until they emerge above ground in the adult form for several weeks to months.

The resurrection rose or rose of Jericho is the name for two varieties of resurrection plants, one of which grows in Iraq (modern-day Babylon).  The hardy plants can survive extended droughts and like the Biblical city of Jericho, from which they take their name, are thought to be reborn from ash.
Joselyn Jun 2019
The dust from the storm finally began to settle
and I could see clearly again.
You were really just a mirage along.
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