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Carson Jul 4
Sahara Dust
Ally & Foe
Carson OTP Alexander
Potassium, Calcium, Iron,
Nitrogen, Phosphorus
Are food for Phytoplanktons n Amazon Trees,
Still loads of it is a Blanket that makes me sneeze ,
Hurt you n me medically,
Via its nourishments n Blows,
Is D Sahara Dust
Ally & Foe,
Transported By Easternly Trade Winds,
Depositing tons
On The Atlantic Ocean n various land falls,
Decreasing Strength of Hurricanes,
Unknown to us all?
Authenticated By Various Scientists,
A food source chain & Mental Bliss,
Similar in Color to Clouds Of Rain,
Viewed from my Naked eye,
Upon The coastal turrain,
Natures Happiness & Pain,
Via Its Nourishments & Blows,
The Sahara Dust
Ally & Foe!
LC Jan 1
remember the mountains you've climbed,
the valleys, the deserts, the cold nights,
everything you've been through to reach here.
bring the lessons, the people you love,
anything you need for the journey ahead,
and greet the new year at the summit.
Bryce Nov 2018
You had not joined me
My totem-journey to the wellspring of the Colorado
to seek the source of things uncontained

the stars washed over me with asphyxiation
the breathless gasp of space

--In the deserts;
the emerald barrel cactus
is watered as the earth
and the passerby
cut into the crust
to sip the wine-flesh
to be drunk
and exhume the inhibitions of living

Forbidden berries
in the garden of quills, spear thistles
trust upon the air to protect her children

a good, silent mother
does not refuse
the gift of deflowering
as she is stripped
of her sharpness
and laundered
bestowed in salted bison skin of a war-chief's pouch.
Paul Butters Aug 2018
This muggy, sultry sun is no fun:
Longest sustained heatwave for over forty years.
Suffocating Sahara with Death Valley cracks
In the dry arid soil.

My electric fan shattered with a power surge
Into fragmented plastic shards.
I so miss it now.
It’s oppressively tropical,
With volcanic heat
And Pressure bearing down on us.
The clammy mugginess of a sauna.
Not the clean dry air you find abroad,
Yet still that remorseless torrid scorching,
Roasting and toasting.
Just too much.

Hot air clothed in humid moisture,
Stuffy and sweaty,
Steaming to a haze
And later
Thunder storms.

I long for a cool brew
To freeze my throat
And quench my raging thirst:
Ice cool, ice cool, ice cool.
I’m sure not talking
Of tea.

Paul Butters

© PB 6\8\2018.
Hottest heatwave in the UK since 1976.
Donna Apr 2018
Today I made a
curry and it was scumptious
Our bellies all smiled

Later I'm going
to pop a apple strudel
into the oven

I bought custard too , it's
going to be so yummy
my belly rumbles

But me and Dean are
going to wait until the
children are sleeping

So we end up with
lots more , I must sort out our
biggest desert bowls

I can see it now , a
mountain of cake topped with warm
soft sunshine custard

O yums yums can't wsit
So excited and it's a

Oh yes we're being
a little selfish but that's
fine we have wrinkles

I best go now I'm
off to cook apple strudel
Shhh don't tell the kids :)
:) we got apple strudel and custard for deserts **
Vexren4000 Sep 2017
The tyrant of the desert plains,
And the beast that lurks in the jungle,
The dinosaurs,
Of eras long past,
The giants of times faded away,
As our mammalian cousins,
Trembled in burrows,
And dashed through swamps,
The T-Rex,
With his giant maw,
Lording over the land of dinos,
At least at face value

Paul Butters Jul 2016
Life’s lingering flashlight.
Too bright to stare at the sun.
Don’t stay out in it too long.
Suffocating heat sometimes.
My porch gets like a baking oven.
Get burnt and it will peel your skin.

Visions of desert dunes,
Camel trails:
A searing sun that sends you delirious,
Mirage-seas shimmering hypnotically above the sands.

I love the sun.
My memories of buckets and spades,
Golden sandcastles along the esplanades.
Delicious ice-cream.
A cooling breeze.
Grass and pollen
Making you sneeze.

A mini-heatwave we have now,
But storms will come
Over that brow.

British weather I have to say:
Sunshine now
For which we’ll pay.

Paul Butters
We are having a mini-heatwave in the UK.....
JM McCann May 2015
Why is it so much easier to be disillusioned
about the lush forest than it is to see the
flowers that really exist?
Why is it easier to feel the vastness of a desert than it is
to feel the vastness of a life/ rainforest?

Sure no **** we don’t live in an oasis but that does not mean
trees taller than building don’t exist,
it does not mean we live in the middle of a desert with
time frozen and sand liquid.
Sure there are snakes in the sand but they are not the only animals.
Monkeys, lizards octopi whales, humans all of us exist.
We live among deserts and oasis’s.
So for gods sake while deserts are big can we not champion the oceans
that are a little bigger?!
Any comments critism is more than welcome!
MdAsadullah Dec 2014
Yes I confess, yes I agree
that I love to play with fire.
I am well aware that it can
lead to consequences dire.
Yes I know you all love me
but you all are afraid of fire.
I know that you know truth
but danger you don't aspire.
I don't blame if you all don't
want a route through fire.
Your destination through
path rosy you could acquire.
While playing I've burnt all
my dreams all my desires.
My affinity my attraction is
only and only blazing fire.
And if by chance while
playing with fire I am set afire.
And if unexpectedly I turn into
ashes by dangerous fire.
Throw it in oceans, blow it
with winds, scatter it in deserts.
Before with worldly filth and
dirt the ashes are bemired.
So that Haply some explorer
may find the truth I've found.
So that someone may smell
the truth which I've smelled.
So that some thirsty in mirage
may see the truth I've seen.
BB Bruce Nov 2014
When I met you, believe me, I didn’t intend to fall for you. By no means did I want to put your laugh on repeat every time it filled the air, every time it filled the room, all the moments when it felt like time didn’t have a definition to begin with. When I met you, I did not believe that opposites could attract. I did not know how valuable words could be until they came in slow thought out sentences, quickly traveling from your lips to my ears and hanging in the space between us like Christmas ornaments, the ones that are so beautiful you understand why they should only be put on display for a short period of time, the kind where you’re afraid to touch them in case you might leave a fingerprint, smudge the beauty of it off with your quick responses and loud voice, the ornaments you put high enough on the tree for everyone to see, but not high enough for the risk of it to break. You tell me that you are easily breakable, when people first meet you, you tell me, that your brain stops functioning because it cannot handle the pressure that new people bring with them.  It’s not easy for you to let people in enough to see your elaborate conversations. My luck is the kind of luck that gets me close enough to want for me to see it, know that I’m close enough to touch it only to have me land on my face not much farther from where I began. I am lucky enough to know you, lucky enough to hear all the ticks of your brain that the world could only dream of hearing, but I will never be lucky enough to love you. I’m a desert that doesn’t get rain for hundreds of years at a time, and you are a thunderstorm that will only stay for a little while, you will overflow me with happiness, flood me with hope, and create fields of dreams and overdone romantic scenarios that I am not good enough to play the role for. When you leave, when you return to the amazon where you belong, there will be some lonely hikers who will find the remains of what I wanted it to be between us. They will pick the flowers with your name on it, but they will not question. Some questions aren’t meant to be answered. And the same reasoning applies to how beautiful Christmas ornaments don’t belong on the same branch with the generic ones you find at the bottom of the dollar store bin.
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