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Christian Bixler Nov 2014
I sit and hear the desert wind, sand hissing past,
winging by on the deserts breath. The moon hangs
still above the earth, enshrined in vaults of darkest
black, an infinity of stars to frost the sky. I sit here,
on the shifting crest of a tall and windswept dune,
contemplating the majesty of starry sky, and the silence
of the desert winds. My mind empty, wanders, and I
seem to hear, in the howling of the desert wind, the yipping
cries of jackals, and a strain of music, faint and thin, riding, on
the whisper of the desert winds. I look and see, a palace, light
shining from many windows, and colored pennants, whipping
in the desert breeze, spices seeming, rich and dry, waft around
me, caught, in the twisting zephyrs of the deserts breath. I stare, and
slowly, the sounds of the palace reach my ears, women laughing, singing, and the lilting tones of music strange and wonderful, lift me
from the desert sand, and set me forward, stumbling from fatigue and
thirst, towards that place of light and sound, a refuge surely from the
stinging sands, and the whispering voice of the desert, dry in its susurrations, as an empty skull, bleached and hollow, sockets set to the
contemplation of the desert winds, dessicated remnant of mortal man, till wind and sand consign it to the deserts breath. I stumble forwards, eyes locked on that vision held before me, and I, with all remaining strength and speed, run towards that deserts dream, and in my folly, I
strive for speed, even exceeding the desert wind. At last I halt, and in my weariness, stumble against a mighty gate, set with gold and jade and onyx, moonstone high, and amber low. I set my hands to wondrous gate, but lo! the gates are fast and strong. They do not yield to the feeble push of weary traveler, nor to the entreaty of dry and sand parched throat, imploring it to stand aside. I fall at last, defeated, and thought, to die here, before these gates of opulent splendour, would not be so tragic a fate, as the deaths of thousands, lost as I in the immeasurable vastness of the desert sands. But yea! There in the darkness of night as I made my peace with God and his angels and consigned myself to the inevitable fate of eternal rest, that near unnoticed, the gates swung voicelessly open, and through it I inhaled weakly, the scents of anise and cumin and cinnamon and allspice, all mixed with the intoxicating perfume of the daughters of the desert, scented waters and mulled wine. I reeled, dazed by the glory of light and sound and scent. I was lifted then by gentle hands, soft and cool, with the featherlight touch of sweet virginity. I fell, spinning, into the cool dark of grey oblivion. I awaken, rested, in the dark. Birdsong wafts in through arched windows. Below, I can hear the women singing, talking, as their needles clack in unrelenting harmony. And yet, this all seems to fade, to become less real. I listen harder, and yet, I hear instead of the singing harmony of before, the lonely song of the desert wind, faint and yet as if it had ever been, and this all some fantasy, imagined dream more true than life? I open my eyes. I lie there, back pressed to chill stone, jutting up into the heavens. The scents of man dissipate and are gone, replaced by the dry and whispering aura of the lonely desert, faint sage upon the wind. I close my eyes. falling, I slide to the cold sands and lie there, waiting only for death to take me, that I might once more approach that vision of holy beauty that awaits those that live and die in piety, and with the grace of heaven. A hand touches my shoulder. I do not look up. The hand remains, insistent in its immovability. I rise, slowly, turning, so I might see my unknown companion, with me, in the heart of the windsept sands of the great expanse. A man stands there, robed in white, black veil obscuring all save for dark eyes, set deep in his weathered brow, like jewels of onyx, set in a dark and seasoned stone, left to the desert, in years gone by. "Come. It is time" The man whispers through the desert wind. He beckons me, fingers set with jewels and stones, gold thread belts his waist. He turns and walks silently, out, towards the eastern sky. I follow him, seeming vision of guidance, sent to set my feet on the path of life. I follow him and yet, gradually he fades and is gone, vanished, beside a weathered stone, lonely in the great expanse. I fall to my knees, head bowed, strength gone from soul and body. I hear dimly through the haze of weary enervation, even as death enshrouds me, the trickle of falling water. I lift my eyes. water pools before me, gift of life, sent by spirit of guiding thirst. I drink and life within me lifts its head, water streams down wind partched throat, and even as I fall into cool oblivion, knowing that that vison of heaven awaits me, water soothes me, as I fall at last into darkness, and the shining vision of heaven around me, I close my eyes, darkness enshrouding, as I perish beneath the moon and frosted sky.
I am in awe of the infinite possibilities and horizons of the imagination.
Brady D Friedkin Nov 2015
There lies a desert void of life
There lies a desert void of water and void of food
There lies a desert void of all good things
In this desert lies death
In this desert lies air more dry than dead bones
And in this desert lies pain more than can be imagined

For I wander throughout said desert
Seemingly with my lonesome
With no one to turn
And with nowhere to go
So I sit on a rock and wait
Then a promise of water comes to me from Above

But when the driest of days come over the horizon
And the hottest of times comes to my face
I almost give up, leaving the promise
And then I feel like I have moved on from that promise
But I cannot leave what came from Above
Oh me of little faith!

So I wander seemingly alone in this desert
For days upon days, weeks upon weeks
For months upon months, even years upon years
Longing for even a drop of water to satisfy my thirsty soul
But here in the dry desert the water is unfound
For all of the water has evaporated into the dry desert air

But on the horizon I see what I’ve longed for
I see what looks to be a spring
Bringing water to the dry desert ground
To satisfy the thirst of this dead dry country
And as I approach this great gorge of water
I am killed with the realization that no water lies here

For I have been tricked
By the images in my head
And the physical needs of my body
I have been deceived
The green and lush never truly existed in this dead dry desert
Only this mysterious mirage in my misunderstood mind

So still I search across these dry dead lands
For the water that might bring life back to my tired soul
But time and time again
The mirages ****** my hope for satisfaction
But soon enough I know I will find the promise
And reach the flowing waters to satisfy my soul

One day, I find myself a well
A well that may be full of water
Water that may wet my thirsty tongue
But when I look into that deep well
I see a crack in its basic foundation
And no clean water lies in this broken cistern

So I drop my bucket into that deep broken well
Hoping for a mere drink of water
But in the bucket comes muddied, dirtied water  
And when I pour that water into my thirsty mouth
My thirst is not satisfied, it is only magnified
And I am more thirsty than I have been ever before

So I take another drink
But this broken cistern holds water that cannot satisfy
Water that may merely increase my thirst
That will only bring forth the day of my death
For my mouth is as dry as this desert sand
And I will die here in this dry desert of death

I am like dead dry bones in the valley of death
With no flesh or breath to give me life
But then when I find the water that gives life
Flesh will come about my bones
And He will breathe breath into my lungs
Then for the first time, I will have true life

I wander on never finding the water I require
But then I stand and look heavenward
And I hear my weary voice cry out “My bones are dried up!
All hope is lost, and I am cut off!”
So I stand in the dry dying desert
Alone with nothing and no one to hope in

Then His glorious voice responds; “I will raise you from your graves
I will put My Spirit in you, for I am the Lord your God
I am with you to the end of the ages
For My Son, your God reigns with me
And our Name is Immanuel
For I am with you."

And I fall to my knees
For there lies a cistern unbroken
I look deep into this well and see a promise unforsaken
For the well is filled with sweet satisfying water
And I drink never to thirst again
For He is the Living Water, and I am satisfied in Him
Theology Narration Deep
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)

There are more and more misfortunes in the world
Known to you dear people in your diverse conditions,
But my life and experience has taught me unique lessons
Of kindred to befit me Elizabeth, a daughter of Zinjathropus
Hailing in the savannah desert, Turkana County of Kenya,
I have graduated in to a single lady without test of marriage,
As desert men look at me in their irritating impotence,
**** clothes wrapped around their slender waists passing on me
Like a dog passing on American dollars; cursed be desert men,
I thought my beauty of dark African complexions will give them a ****** tease
But to my chagrin; desert men have a fear of beautiful ladies
My conscience tells me that my beauty is an eye sore to them,
I thought my bulging hips will entice them as is a promise of fertility
Leave alone not to mention my concupiscent ****** warmth, uhmmm!
Desert men have dared not to see and appreciate my **** bossom,
They often pass on me driving their donkeys and emaciated carmels,
I thought my ***** sharp pointed *******, assign of virginity
Will call them to me into a treat of love, affiliative love,
But sadly enough; these dudes are erotically blind,
They they nonchalantly pass on my **** *****,
Wielding a begging bowl in their ***** long hands
Running like drunkard chimpanzees going to Oxfam stores to beg for food,
Cursed be Oxfam an imperialist agent, it has crashed flat
The testicles of our desert brothers into ****** insensitivity,
Oxfam has made African desert men to beg like Hebrew lepers
Other than standing up on their feet to feed their women,
Normally as men would do from the sweat of their brow,
I thought my education will attract them to me,
To love me with those romantic University kisses,
But desert men have crude cultures and slavish religion
They rebuke girl child education as if it is a devil,
Oh my dear God of the forsaken desert ladies
Of the forsaken African daughters,
Take me out of this ****** desert
Take me out of the city desert of Lodwar,
Take me to the equator line and give me a husband,
My eggs are pretty ready to conceive and sire children
Sons and daughters for your own glory O almighty God,
Take me out of this ****** desert,
Where no man treats a modern woman,
Take me out of here and give me a fresh man of my dream.

Because I have known from today;
It is accurse to be a woman in Africa
It is a curse to be a beautiful lady in African deserts
It is a curse to  be a woman graduate in the African desert
It is a curse to have ***** ******* in the African desert,
O! Help me God.
Priya Jul 2018
Years and months of tidy weather.
A sunny and partly sandy time
Where did it all go? The breath?
There was no rain on my heart!
There was no greeny leaves on my garden
Like the desert with deserted heart
Then there was a rainy cyclone
It poured out with a thundering storm
The first day storm was cool and calm.
The second day was with heavy lightening
Why does it sound like thunder & blow like a lightening
There grew a little tiny seed inside the sand
The wet, rainy, eroded sand gave a little light of life.
The patchwork of the untamed desert;
The cyclone doesn't last long, knew the desert;
Could it be more alluring & enduring?
Do you say no to a thunder storm on a desert?
The desert cooled and calmed.
The rays of hopes & the pointy days with blacky clouds
Cloude move but not the rain;
Everyday it rained; somedays were sunny;
Desert knew the rain will stop one day.
But it started believing that the rain will last.
On a day when the rain went to the deepest of the sands.
How could there be water on a unwatered area?
Melted the poor sunny day light desert.
Then the subsequent day it stopped raining suddenly;
It was all sunny, dry and hot again.
But it was not like the time before the cyclone.
There was wet in the deep sand.
There was a leefy seed with blossomed flower;
All of them in despair, in confusion, terror.
It was a catastrophe for the desert's soul.
The cyclone will never know what made this catastrophe;
For it never looked back at the desert's aftermath;
The desert got the new ray of acceptance;
It actually grew and groomed, made more of itself;
Spread more cacti, cactus & wildflowers;
It was dry on daylight & cool at night;
The stars & the sun grew brighter on the desert.
The desert started making more of sandstorms & laughed;
It was what it was & what it will be with or without the rain.
The desert know that now. It's a good thought;
The desert  is overwhelmed with joy & happiness;
For it will find it's own companion one day who stays;
But the desert thought sometimes;
"one last time, will you rain again?"
About the freshness of love that sparks in a person who never had the hope that he will fall in love. And what happens when the other person who promises to say leaves??
Xan Abyss Apr 2015
Out here in the wasteland
Our hidden world is small
Everybody knows disaster
But nobody cares at all
It's too much like paradise here
Or maybe we're just too high
But if you live where the burning sun
Kills the clouds in the sky

You know what they call us
You know what we are

Desert Rats,
we mingle with the homeless
Desert Rats
and party with the rich.
Desert Rats
We live for the moment,
Desert Rats
And we don't give a ****

We're a young town, rich with history
From PS to Coachella, and all stops in between
Like an acid trip in a fever dream
It's like nowhere else in the CV scene
It's too much like hell sometimes here
Or maybe we're just crashing
But if summer feels everlasting
And winter brings a wealth of disaster

You know about the Desert Rat life
You know what we are

Desert Rats,
we mingle with the homeless
Desert Rats
and party with the rich.
Desert Rats
We live for the moment,
Desert Rats
and we don't give a -- ****

Palm Springs
Rancho
Cat City
Indio
Sky Valley
LQ
Thousand Palms
Bermuda Dunes
Coachella
DHS
Palm Desert
...everywhere else
In the CV where the d-rats dwell,
It looks like heaven but it's hot as hell!

This is where we come from
This is where we belong
A song about home.
VS May 2016
Goodbye my friend
I'll never gaze upon the light of your face again
Behind every man's eyes
The war within
I could never let you in
I would never let you in

Turn away - desert my heart
Leave me here inside the dark
Blind and strayed
Scared and scarred
Desert my heart
Desert my heart

Farewell my love
I'll never glimpse the grace of your face again
Behind every woman's eyes
The peace within
You could always let me in
You would always let me in

Turn away - desert my heart
Leave me here inside the dark
Blind and strayed
Scared and scarred
Desert my heart
Desert my heart

We've spent a lifetime dictating to stars
Making believe that heaven was ours
Living this make-believe love of ours

Please don't leave your love-light on
Come sunup I'll be gone
I'm so sorry I was wrong

I could never let you in
I would never let you in

Turn away - desert my heart
Leave me here inside the dark
Blind and strayed
Scared and scarred
Desert my heart
Desert my heart
This is a song.
The flood is coming
The river will flow strong
I try to run but don’t move an inch
I am too different from you all…

A desert is what I want
A desert is what I almost had
I always seem so close
Until I find the flaw.
And not long after is…
The flood

The chance is gone
The people changed and reborn
I feel the pain of suffocation
Just so you have the aesthetic.

Again I begin my search
Looking for a home
I know I want far too much
But I’m offering more for such

Here’s the perfect place!
This is the one!
Here shall be my desert…
Oh God, please…
The flaw is found… again…

A desert is what I want
A desert is what I almost had
I always seem so close
Until I find the flaw.
And not long after is…
The flood

The chance is gone
The people changed and reborn
I feel the pain of suffocation
To make everyone happy.

It seems to me
That everyone has a soulmate
But good old God missed this son
He forgot to make me one
He left me alone with all I need and more.
He sits and laughs
At my pained desire to find my love to adore.

A desert is what I want
A desert is what I almost had
I always seem so close
Until I find the flaw.
And not long after is…
The flood

The chance is gone
The people changed and reborn
I feel the pain of suffocation
Because of our Father

I carry on
With this pointless search
“Just awhile longer…”
Soon becomes my maxim.

Soon I find it hard to walk
Earlier still my memory fades
Next thing I know my heart is slowing
I can feel my spirit leaving me…

A desert is what I wanted
A desert is what I almost had
I always seemed so close
Until I found the flaw.
And not long after were…
The floods

The chance is gone
The people changed and reborn
I feel the pain of suffocation
As I die with no one by my side…
Edited version; Originally written September 2008
The flood is coming
The river will flow strong
I try to run but don’t move an inch
I am too different from you all…

A desert is what I want
A desert is what I almost had
I always seem so close
Until I find the flaw.
And not long after is…
The flood

The chance is gone
The people changed and reborn
I feel the pain of suffocation
Just so you have the aesthetic.

Again I begin my search
Looking for a home
I know I want far too much
But I’m offering more for such

Here’s the perfect place!
This is the one!
Here shall be my desert…
Oh God, please…
The flaw is found… again…

A desert is what I want
A desert is what I almost had
I always seem so close
Until I find the flaw.
And not long after is…
The flood

The chance is gone
The people changed and reborn
I feel the pain of suffocation
To make everyone happy.

It seems to me
That everyone has a soulmate
But good old God missed this son
He forgot to make me one
Well He won’t **** Himself.
He left me alone with all I need and more.
He sits and laughs
At my pained desire to find my love to adore.

A desert is what I want
A desert is what I almost had
I always seem so close
Until I find the flaw.
And not long after is…
The flood

The chance is gone
The people changed and reborn
I feel the pain of suffocation
Because of our Father

I carry on
With this pointless search
“Just awhile longer…”
Soon becomes my maxim.

Soon I find it hard to walk
Earlier still my memory fades
Next thing I know my heart is slowing
I can feel my spirit leaving me…

A desert is what I wanted
A desert is what I almost had
I always seemed so close
Until I found the flaw.
And not long after were…
The floods

The chance is gone
The people changed and reborn
I feel the pain of suffocation
As I die with no one by my side…
Original. Originally written September 2008
Brady D Friedkin Nov 2015
A boy born into royalty
Destined to rule over a great kingdom
But sent away by one with ill will for the kingdom
To be killed in a shipwreck
And leave a kingdom without their prince

But a lion pushed the boy in the wreckage to shore
Where a man stood wakeful at night
And took the boy in, giving him life
The man abused the boy in many ways
And the future ruler would leave to rule his kingdom

The boy had always wanted to go North
As if there were something good to the North
Something drawing him to the mountains and rivers
As he had northern blood flowing through his veins
So 'Onward and upward, to Narnia and the North!'

The boy fled his home on the back of a talking horse
Escaping the abusive nature of his supposed-father
To the north where he was meant to be, they fled
From the south the life he was fleeing from
His destined kingdom lying in this northern land to which he travelled

On horseback he rides in a forest
Before hearing the sounds of another horse
And then seeing the sights of another rider
Terrified the horse pulls forward
Then a wild animal gives its mighty roar

Hearing the roar of a mighty lion
The riders and horses go on running from this terror
Until they are united, together in their travels
Then the lion disappears into the mist of the forest
And the travelers, a boy and a girl, and two horses now travel to the north together

The boy stranded in the desert
Away from all things he had known
Without his horse or traveling companions
Without any water to quench his thirst
And he spends the night alone in the dark desert

There on the desert ground, terrified he laid
For behind him stood tombs of the kings of old
And to his forefront laid the desert
He imagined ghosts and ghouls that might come from the tombs
And terrified he laid, there on the desert ground

Then a kitten came to his side
The cat came und nuzzled behind the sleeping boy
It kept him warm through the cold desert night
The boy felt safe with the kitten by his side
As if no one or no thing could possibly harm him

As he slept, he heard the sound of jackals howling in the desert
The boy became fearful once he noticed the absence of the cat
Yet it was at this time that he heard the mighty roar of a lion
And the lions roar made him even more fearful than he was before
But then the howling of the jackals ceased and he was safe

He awoke again later in the night to the cat by his side
The cat comforted him in his loneliness
And kept him warm in the desert night
When it needed to, the cat became a lion and defended the boy
For the lion always wanted what was best for that boy

Then the four travelers ventured north across the desert
Racing against time, and against enemy armies
To get to the kingdom in the north on time to warn the king
But like any desert travelers, they quickly tired
And they required one final push

A lion's roar cams out of the silence of nature
And very quickly the horses sped up to leave the lion's reach
But to no avail as the lion gashed at one of the riders
The terror of the horses propelled them forward
And they made it in time to save the kingdom

The boy was reunited with his father, the king
And he himself became a king when it came high time
The boy married the girl, and became king and queen of the country in the north
For the Lion and the Kitten led them to the north, and to their salvation
Even when they did not know the Lion at all

The Lion is Jesus Christ, God Himself in the flesh
He came to save the boy, and his horse
And his wife and her horse
He came as a fierce lion to redirect
And as a kitten to comfort
He came as a lion to defend
And as a kitten to protect
Jesus Christ came to men
He came as a helpless fetus and infant
And as a small child
He came as a man to teach
And as a man to die
Jesus is fierce when needed
And gracious when needed
For He loves His children
And will not let His children stray far from Him
For much good is to come for the Children of God
This is a poem very based off of C.S. Lewis' Horse and His Boy, the third book (chronologically) in the Chronicles of Narnia
mouse Dec 2014
this is my song in the desert
stumbling in my pursuits
when my mind, it is dry, but my heart it does beat
dug deep inside my pretended screams

i yell to hear myself feel
buried beneath a silent mind
clawing my walls and playing my keys
someday my hip bones will turn into wings

flying across this desert of skin
i cling to the hints of hope tossed within
and wait for the stars to fall closer and near
as i wait to whisper along my desert song

my fingers bleed so desperately
hungry to cling to that tree made of pain
but i am afraid of my weight so to stay sane
i lean into silence and kiss my own fingers clean

i walk along the curve in my spine
only once i heard the muffled sounds come clear and clean:
i am not free
and this is my song in the desert

i smile my denials, what a sweet smile
i don’t want to be the judge in all of his trials
please stop these thoughts from running too deep
add one more thorn to your crown to bleed

when i cannot breathe, still this is my song in the desert
when everything in me is dry
please let me hum and escape this quiet brain
until the sun falls out of the sky

i tried to find my rooftops
to find my wings in bloom
i tried to leap into your arms
but afraid to tear your scars, i fled

i slept inside my skin instead
tracing shapes with my restless legs
but oh please send help, i am not fine
i harbor the assassin inside my mind

i grasp for an angel and touch a dream
lost in a city with only me
i threw my maps and watched them drift
my knuckles are mountains and my veins fake streams.

in the very dark back corner of my brain
up a serpent arises
to kiss my lies in slow depart
this alone i cannot slay

and this is my song in the desert
my flesh i am desperate to bleed
but my weapons are dull, rusted and old
and my battle cry fades into silence

on the day that i cried
she said she saw an illness in my eyes
your deathly crown sits along my waterline
cupping my iris, reminding me of their crimes

this is my desert song
sung when my heart is so heavy
that it crushes my lungs
and with its deflate finally i see your name

but rip my tightly woven threads
and gently untangle my knotted hair
the wind has blown across the dust of my thoughts
please sweep me up and wash me whole

perhaps whats been dried will taste sweeter and longer
brighter vibrations with growing explosions
the victory sweeter and my strength grown softer
maybe when your water runs

again i will grow green
and i will be clean
under your tree
thorns will turn back to dark lashes again

this is my song in the desert
as i search for streams inside my soul
drain me of the dust inside
and cup a single drop into my side

this is my secret song, please
teach me to be whole
loud and clear with silenced fear
my unsung song will scream through

and in you i will hear my soul again.
i have edited and molded this in my hands longer than most anything else. yet it is too long and rambles and has no rhythm and pleads to be cut down. i will.
but excuses and examinations of my poorly written words, this poem is more true than anything i've written in a while.
Duncan Brown Sep 2018
Not long after the beginning, and a bit before the end, the Almighty said to Noah: “Is that your real name?” “Yeah”, said Noah: “you gave it to me, your ever generousness. I was hoping for something a bit more romantic, maybe even an extra syllable or two, or become all psychedelic and have a hyphen and a double barrel, but Noah is functional. I’m not complaining, a lot. After all what’s in a name? Wouldn’t a cactus be just as uninteresting if it was called something else? Why am I and my not very exciting name so humbly in your almighty and quite tedious presence?” asked Noah. “I’ve had a great idea”, said God: “and I want you with the very boring name to be the first to hear it.” “Can’t wait to hear it your Denseness, even if it is only half as brilliant as the square wheeled chariot and deep-fried ice cube you nearly invented for us last week; and as for the three-armed jacket, well what can I say? Jacob wears his every day and I won’t tell you what he does with it at night, as it involves folk music. And didn’t the Paisley patterned boulder illuminate the landscape?” said Noah “Oh good”, said God: “I do so enjoy it when the minions are attentive to my every word and trembling syllable, What’s the point of being an Almighty if you can’t Almighty it over the lower orders from time to time?” “I couldn’t agree more, your Bampotness. Even if you do appear to be a few slices short of a full loaf on occasions. So, what’s this big idea you’ve had?” said Noah. “I want you to build a boat, the biggest and bestest boat there’s ever been” said God. “Why”, said Noah, “we live in a desert, we don’t do boats; never have done, don’t get a lot of call for them in these parts, your Obliqueness. Ordinarily you’re every utterance is a symphony of sound and beauty to the sticky out bits on the abstract countenance you have so generously created for me, O Guano features. Couldn’t you do another plague of frogs and locusts? We loved those. Your subjects haven’t eaten so well since. Very tasty they were indeed, and so much more nourishing than the daily fare of cactus bark and centipede you dish up to us as we go about our increasingly diminishing mortal trespass. I hope you weren’t baffled by the paradoxical construction of that sentence. One Almighty’s punishment is another lowly minion’s business opportunity. I was running a fast food joint while it lasted. Made a change from the normal feast, where you have to catch your dinner before it catches you. Eat before your eaten that’s the Law ‘round here. It makes you feel more like a recipe than a person on occasions, your Compostness.” “Be that as it may, said God: “I’ve got some drawings which Eve helped me to make” “Eve?”  said Noah: “did you say Eve?” “Yes” said God: “Eve”, that’s what I said, she likes me more than all the rest of you put together and that’s why she’s my favourite” “This will be good” said Noah: “let’s be having it. Let’s see the cosmic blueprint of a less than useless boat that Eve devised” “I helped to devise it as well”, said God: “In fact I done all the pencil sharpening, and here it is.” Noah sniggered and said: “That’s not a boat it’s a camel!” “Brilliant, isn’t it?”, said God: “you’ve got to hand it to Eve; she’s a genius at this kind of stuff, and she says it will make me look jolly clever as well. And that will stop all you ungrateful and wretched minions from smirking and sniggering every time I have a wonderful idea.” “This is even better than the ten commandments, three dos six don’ts and a maybe” said Noah. “My Ten commandments were wonderful” said God: “even Moses said so.” “The only reason you have ten commandments”, said Noah: “is because you have ten fingers. If you had seventeen fingers we would have seventeen commandments; one for each digit. People who use their toes to count their fingers should avoid life’s mathematical complexities. And as for Moses ‘The Born Leader’ he’s a party hack. He’ll agree with anything you say as long as he gets his name on the tablet. He’s publicity mad. When he grows up he wants to chisel the definitive text on cactus attraction, for the benefit of future desert wanderers. Eve says he a bit of a Freudian fruitcake on the quiet, whatever that is. She also says, his mother told him he was adopted, and he’s never quite got over it.” “Why would Moses want to get over a cactus, seems jolly silly to me” said God: “He’s a complete basket case, according to the local grapevine. Never mind all that, let’s see the blueprint.” said Noah: “A wooden camel, only a cosmic idiot could imagine it. If it was a wooden horse it could have been sold to the Trojans, or a wooden cat to the Pharoahs, and I’m told the antipodeans go a bundle on timber budgies, but camels; nobody wants one, not even other camels. How did someone as colossally dense and as infinitely thick as your self acquire the surreallness of thought to imagine it in the first place?” said Noah. “You’re a bright little chappie for a minion”, said God: “Eve told me about the Greeks and their wooden gee-gee and I suggested a boat, then Eve pointed out that this was a desert, and consequently we need a desert boat. ‘One that floats on sand’, I said. ‘Not quite El Plonkero’ she said. Then Eve said we have to adopt and then apply some lateral thinking to the problem. She pointed out that we live in a desert and that we need a boat that sails in the desert. And then I had the mostest cleverest thought I’ve had in ages. We need a ‘desert boat’ I exclaimed. And Eve said I was a true plankton eater. She says the nicest things to me. A ‘ship of the desert,’ she says, ‘and what’s a ship of the desert?’  Quick as a flasher in the rush hour, I said ‘a camel’, and Eve replied that I was quite bright for a log, and that camel plus ship equalled wooden camel to sail away from here to some other paradise she called Hollywood, ‘Land of heavenly bodies and the drop dead gorgeous Brad Pitt.’” “And you believed her?” said Noah. “Of course I believed her”, said God: “she’s Eve and if you can’t believe in Eve what else is there to believe in?” “There’s an answer to that”, said Noah: “but you’d toast me like a heretic on the happy juice if I repeated it, your Doorknobness.”
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
The Unknown Desert
This area has some secrets some are unaware of here is a list first material items black sand apples that contained milk and the same grasses that grows along the coastal highway in California and sea gulls and chipmunks just like those found across the Golden Gate in San Francisco in The great conservationist John Muir’s stand of Redwoods. Then a black desert a jungle a secret pass a tunnel under the railroad right next to the place where it snowed all year round and Miss America undiscovered though.

We will start in order with the black sand this was the purist black crystal regular sand not so much
Ocean beach sand has a lot of powder content this you could scoop up hands full let it do that small
Wonder usually reserved for hour glasses gently cascade out soothing as it escapes whatever had it
Bound not being involved with the Spring Side mine in a professional sense I can only guess but like the
Mighty mountain of slack that stood as a giant discard pile to the mine operation this sand now it comes
To mind it had to be a pulverized cast off type of coal dust. They had a show one time that delved into
The byproducts of coal defiantly not as tasty or wonderus as the finds produced by George Washington Carver
From what he referred to as the lowly Peanut this will lead us into the Black Desert mentioned this was
The far end of the Spring Side mine to the east along the rail road right of way Why an artist never
Painted this I guess as spoken it was unknown Donna even missed it with her camera but it truly was a
Miniature desert with the same vistas but all contained within a quarter mile the long open stretch
Comparable to a large pond bordered at the edges by dunes with these grasses found along the coast I
wonder did someone while traveling harvest some then bring them and transplant them whatever they
Thrived and had the same pleasant effect not only on the eye but the soul it was always filled with the
Quietest hush our smallest land of enchantment Georgia O Keefe would have found it matched the
Dream shapes of New Mexico only thing missing were the flowers and sculls everything else was right
Here in your very own back yard it also was a bird sanctuary and the chipmunks still scurry about on this
Now lost dream land gone just like the native tribes the I lone the Sack, Pawnee, Potawatomie’s and the
Greatest tribe the Kickapoo bet you didn’t know this used to be Black Hawk hunting ground.
The milk apples not too big of a thrill unless your six and you look across the small pasture just out in
Front of homer’s Barn was their house Miss America undiscovered lived there I know beauty she didn’t
Walk around and she wasn’t at black desert but she shimmered just like a desert princess she could have
Been covered in coal dust it wouldn’t have mattered it would have looked liked gold dust if she had an
Native American name it would have been trance maker when she came outside the rest of the world
Stopped all activity except the part of paying her homage she was so humble she killed me if they had
Those portable oxen units back then I most likely would have been dragging one around in one of those
famous little red wagons she left me breathless then like a great devastating storm the news crossed the
Yard and ally she was getting married well what should you do probably not this but this is for everyone
Who has loved a living dream then fate oh blackest fate thy name was Richard comes and steals the
Most precious living one away I just went to say goodbye outside her bedroom window that wasn’t
What the girls that were to make up her wedding party heard a mix between a Irish Banshee and a small
Calf tangled in barb wire in a terrible storm would come close as you can expect someone finally said
What is that the answer the little neighbor boy did she close the window no she sealed my feelings for ever by her action of mercy, I don’t care I passed into the far
Reaches of agonies domain but I looked up from the ground where I was laying soaked in tears there she
Was kneeling beside me these fifty six years I have never laid down this torch that almost consumed
Me that night new tears now join those of long ago she touched my convulsing body and spoke I think
From that carving so deep in my heart when death to innocence was complete the poet in me was born
She even has spoken where does the depth come from don’t you know you looked into the cavernous
Abyss that lost love created I spoke of her in three lost loves and endless rails I told her someday I will
Make her famous I’m still working on that promise the apple with milk was an old green knobby hedge
Apple good descriptor for my heart after leaving her presence that night her earthly name is Eileen I call
Her summer’s night angel.

The pass was the space between the sugar creek creamery and Longwells Pana hotel sorry it was cool to
Cut through there and we lost another young prince when Pat Longwell died he was one of the first to
Color his hair he had the air of a beet nick he just didn’t do the lingo you instantly loved him he was a
True friend he owned the name cool the snow that snowed all year wasn’t cool but it snowed those
White feathers all the way to Wadley’s chicken processing at the end of commercial alley past the
Monument company how apropos for all the chicks that said there final Farwell the tunnel was there too
Under the railroad you walked down through it on stones that kept you out of the small amount of water
That trickled through go in and then pop out on the other side or get the thrill of the train rumbling over
Head. Thats your trip through this unknown hope you enjoyed the trip my only wish is that I could type faster.
Pagan Paul Aug 2017
.
i.
The morning mist dissipated
as the ships keel ploughed a furrow
through the Great Green of the Aegean,
leaving far behind the magick isle.
Vigilantos stood at the prow,
marvelling at the accompanying dolphins,
curious and playful,
schooling with purpose to the ocean.
Ahead, waiting, a grand tour.
Of Sumer, Abyssinia and desert lands,
to glean hidden knowledge,
regain the mysteries of the ancients,
read the Necronomicon and old scripts
from a time when power crackled,
and the storms of the gods
belittled the existence of mankind.

ii.
The twilight Moon peeps
from behind the brazen grey cloud.
And she weaves hap-hazard
through the crushes of the crowd.
A high-born daughter of the desert,
a vision of beauty from the sand.
With silks and satin and perfume
richly obtained from foreign lands.
Through the colourful bazaar she threads
with occasional glances thrown at stalls,
priestess jewels sparkle in the night,
its her Name the sirocco calls.

iii.
Cobalt blue water, an illusion of light
where the sun slides through the meniscus,
and the harbour of Tyre was alive.
The bustling of boats around ships at anchor,
snatching glimpses of a turquoise sky
and the quay throbbing with the pulse of music.
It would be another 3 thousand years
before Rome was even a trading post on the Tiber,
let alone an empire conquering the east,
or building hippodromes and columned avenues.
Vigilantos drank in the atmosphere,
his magicians instincts bristling, noting all.
Meandering through the narrow streets,
loosely following direction, getting lost.
Seeking his retinue and camels, ready to start,
across the desert to Ninevah on the Tigris.
To speak to tribes, pray with the priests of Ur.
To find the secrets of mysteries, and treasure,
reaping the knowledge of the Old Gods awe,
amongst the shifting dunes of history.

iv.
Vivid colours of silks and dyes
adorn the tents of cloth and stick.
The summer sun beats down lazy,
heat as oppressive as mist is thick.
Her charms and delights are hidden,
with misery and pain, the last week spent.
The dark, the quiet, the inane chatter,
deep within the women's red tent.
Free from the curse, her moon-cycle complete,
she wanders with mood sombre and slow.
A powerful man from a western place
will arrive at the camp as the sun sinks low.
He had seen her in the main bazaar
and decided to stake his claim.
Whilst confined away, behind her back,
her father had bartered for riches and fame.

v.
His travels around those beautiful lands
had yielded books of law and scripts.
He had heard the oral traditions of elders
and gazed in wonder at the Moon's eclipse.
Then he had seen the greatest treasure
wending her way through crowded markets.
With tact and guile he discovered her Name,
and vowed to grace her father's carpets.

The desert folk live a simple life
but far from simple are they.
Sharp of tongue and quick of wit,
erudite in a most unusual way.
The father was the elected leader,
King of the tribe that he now led.
Vigilantos had bargained hard
to purchase the girl for his marital bed.

vi.
The sun sinks, falling from the sky in the eve.
Spectacular reds and orange colliding with the dunes.
The azure twilight sky lit and sprinkled with stars,
and the tribal camp fills with laughter and tunes.

vii
He walked with purpose toward the campfire,
his features silhouetted by flickering light.
The sudden hush of the assembled camp
echoed strange, deep into the desert night.
His eyes beheld her most beautiful form,
half in the shadow, half in the light.
For her families benefit he had traded,
agreed bargains, and come to claim his right.

“Princess of the desert, Daughter of the sand,
step forward gently and take me by the hand.
For my island home calls out loud to me,
so come, let us away across the sea”.

Head bowed in fake submission
she boldly makes her cold admission.

“I am a Woman of the free,
these sands are my home to me.
With all good grace; I could not face
life on an island in the sea”.

viii.
Black and red, darkness and rage
descend upon his fevered mind.
Humiliated, spurned by a maiden fair,
and pride will not be left behind.

“A curse. A curse. 'pon thy beautiful head,
prowl and creep as do the undead.
Evil deeds are now thy course,
henceforth our contract is now divorced”.

But something made Vigilantos start,
a pang of something from his dead heart.
With such feelings he could not contend,
so a caveat, for the curse to amend.

“Thy deeds and crimes maybe invested
'pon mortals only who invest the same such evil
'pon their fellow mortals”.

ix.
Leaving far behind the desert
he turns his face to the sky.
The ships keel ploughs a furrow
as the evening mist draws nigh.

And now she prowls the dark night,
her Name lost in the sands of time.
Seeking out the mortal sinners and
punishing their evil with her crimes.

... and thus it begins ...
Judderwitch.


© Pagan Paul (08/08/17)
.
Prequel to The Judderwitch poem (posted in April).
I fear this may create more questions than it answers.

My Judderwitch poems are now in a collection :)
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/28451/judderwitch/
PPx
.
____________________­_

While the dawn storm blows,
Baghdad is calling
Soldiers stationed at the boundaries
The houses are on blaze!
Still,
Desert wind is blowing so unkind!

While the white ghost’s laughs,
Baghdad is crying
Bombs and shells blustered in the cities
The huts are in flames!
Still,
Desert wind is blowing so unkind!

While the dusk light fades,
Baghdad is burning
Sounds of boots repeat at the villages
The Mosque is crowded!
Still,
Desert wind is blowing so unkind!

While the dark night falls.
The debris of war is floating
Date palms line alone the shore in grief
The women are being *****!
Still,
Desert wind is blowing so unkind!

While the dawn wind blows,
Mother’s breast bleeds
Troupes watch in silence from top
Blood is remixed with soil !
Still,
Desert wind is blowing so unkind !

While the dusk light fades.
Pregnant Mother’s are lamenting,
Armored men near the entry ports.
Father lost, Mother ***** !
Still,
Desert wind is  blowing so unkind !

___________________­___
By
Williamsji Maveli
email
williamsji@yahoo.com
www.williamsgeorge.com
www.moon­makers.com
_________________­_____
Poetry dates all the way back to the beginnings of Humanity. People have always been questioning nature, and the day-to-day existence of themselves and other humans love, death, survival, war, injustice, and the universe are all examples of things that have been questioned by men and woman since the roots of human existence. Whether in nursery rhyme, ballad, jingle, rhyme, anthem, or music,people have found poetry to be an outlet for expressing these questions, sensations, and experiences
People often associate it with strict rhyming patterns, complicated vocabulary, hidden iconic meanings, and difficult rhythmical conventions. Poetry is even taught in school to be an intricate, complicated, inexplicable puzzle. True, poetry is difficult. Sure, it can be harder to understand
than prose. However, that is only because sometimes it is involved with your inescapable complexities and uncertainties of your existence.
Related links of Williamsji Maveli
www.williamsji.com
*
This poem is dedicated to the innocent MOTHER'S  & CHILDREN
who had died/ sacrificed their life in Iraq war.
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
www.williamsji.com
Juan Bot Feb 2019
The dust blows forward,
Tumbling across the desert.

And the dust blows back,
Tumbling across the desert.

No eyes, no ears, no mouth, no nose,
No fingers, no legs, no knees, no toes,
No brain, no lungs, no stomach, no heart.
Just the dust.

The dust blows forward,
Tumbling across the desert.

A cactus slices its body in half.

And the dusts blow back,
Tumbling across the desert.

They separate into tinier dusts.

The dusts blow forward,
Tumbling across the desert.

Another cactus slices their bodies in half.

And the dusts blow back,
Tumbling across the desert.

A repetition of madness,
A repetition of pain,
A repetition of destruction,
Tumbling across the desert.
Building, building, building,
Until alas,

The ground catches fire,
The sun hurls towards the earth,
Sand and stone turn to ash.
The earth wakes, and the ground is the sky.

The dust blows forward,
And the dust blows back.
In love of Captain Beefheart, my hero and inspiration.
Tim Knight Mar 2013
Desert wasteland duvet cover expanse,
light filled from the open curtain above.

Desert wasteland bedroom floor dunes,
filled with clothes from the night before.

Desert wasteland wardrobe cave,
emptied in an attempt to look good.

Desert wasteland kitchen cupboard,
void of food and healthy sustenance.

Desert wasteland cup of tea,
reminding me of home, not of my degree.

Desert wasteland life,
make a to-do list and get on with it.
facebook.com/timknightpoetry >> Like for free poetry
GeordieTheMonk Apr 2013
Its so beautiful and dangerous out there.
Danger without beauty would keep me in my chair.
Beauty without danger: I really don't care.

Water trickles through the shrubs stretching the bound,
pushing back the sandy matte where just yesterday found,
the little Bird on the margin, making her sweet sound.

Even desert birds need water to keep them alive
in the hot desert sun where very few survive,
my little bird drinks from her well and she thrives.

Yes, the desert beckons; the dangerous beauty calls.
The desert bird is made to fly among dunes and dry falls.
The well contains water, but the well has walls:

The walls between what is and what will surely be.
The walls between what you wish, and what you cannot see.
The walls around a heart that is learning to be free.

Fly, little bird, by all means fly,
but do not forget that there are limits even limits to the sky:
Places no bird can go, though other birds have tried.

Stretch your wings and venture out, then flurry back again.
Take your time, Desert Bird....drink at the well and then,
A little further into the desert: Beauty, Danger, God be with you. Amen.
Hal Loyd Denton Oct 2012
This area has some secrets some are unaware of here is a list first material items black sand apples that contained milk and the same grasses that grows along the coastal highway in California and sea gulls and chipmunks just like those found across the Golden Gate in San Francisco in The great conservationist John Muir’s stand of Redwoods. Then a black desert a jungle a secret pass a tunnel under the railroad right next to the place where it snowed all year round and Miss America undiscovered though.

We will start in order with the black sand this was the purist black crystal regular sand not so much
Ocean beach sand has a lot of powder content this you could scoop up hands full let it do that small
Wonder usually reserved for hour glasses gently cascade out soothing as it escapes whatever had it
Bound not being involved with the Spring Side mine in a professional sense I can only guess but like the
Mighty mountain of slack that stood as a giant discard pile to the mine operation this sand now it comes
To mind it had to be a pulverized cast off type of coal dust. They had a show one time that delved into
The byproducts of coal defiantly not as tasty or wonderus as the finds produced by George Washington Carver
From what he referred to as the lowly Peanut this will lead us into the Black Desert mentioned this was
The far end of the Spring Side mine to the east along the rail road right of way Why an artist never
Painted this I guess as spoken it was unknown Donna even missed it with her camera but it truly was a
Miniature desert with the same vistas but all contained within a quarter mile the long open stretch
Comparable to a large pond bordered at the edges by dunes with these grasses found along the coast I
wonder did someone while traveling harvest some then bring them and transplant them whatever they
Thrived and had the same pleasant effect not only on the eye but the soul it was always filled with the
Quietest hush our smallest land of enchantment Georgia O Keefe would have found it matched the
Dream shapes of New Mexico only thing missing were the flowers and sculls everything else was right
Here in your very own back yard it also was a bird sanctuary and the chipmunks still scurry about on this
Now lost dream land gone just like the native tribes the I lone the Sack, Pawnee, Potawatomie’s and the
Greatest tribe the Kickapoo bet you didn’t know this used to be Black Hawk hunting ground.
The milk apples not too big of a thrill unless your six and you look across the small pasture just out in
Front of homer’s Barn was their house Miss America undiscovered lived there I know beauty she didn’t
Walk around and she wasn’t at black desert but she shimmered just like a desert princess she could have
Been covered in coal dust it wouldn’t have mattered it would have looked liked gold dust if she had an
Native American name it would have been trance maker when she came outside the rest of the world
Stopped all activity except the part of paying her homage she was so humble she killed me if they had
Those portable oxen units back then I most likely would have been dragging one around in one of those
famous little red wagons she left me breathless then like a great devastating storm the news crossed the
Yard and ally she was getting married well what should you do probably not this but this is for everyone
Who has loved a living dream then fate oh blackest fate thy name was Richard comes and steals the
Most precious living one away I just went to say goodbye outside her bedroom window that wasn’t
What the girls that were to make up her wedding party heard a mix between a Irish Banshee and a small
Calf tangled in barb wire in a terrible storm would come close as you can expect someone finally said
What is that the answer the little neighbor boy did she close the window no she sealed my feelings for ever by her action of mercy, I don’t care I passed into the far
Reaches of agonies domain but I looked up from the ground where I was laying soaked in tears there she
Was kneeling beside me these fifty six years I have never laid down this torch that almost consumed
Me that night new tears now join those of long ago she touched my convulsing body and spoke I think
From that carving so deep in my heart when death to innocence was complete the poet in me was born
She even has spoken where does the depth come from don’t you know you looked into the cavernous
Abyss that lost love created I spoke of her in three lost loves and endless rails I told her someday I will
Make her famous I’m still working on that promise the apple with milk was an old green knobby hedge
Apple good descriptor for my heart after leaving her presence that night her earthly name is Eileen I call
Her summer’s night angel.

The pass was the space between the sugar creek creamery and Longwells Pana hotel sorry it was cool to
Cut through there and we lost another young prince when Pat Longwell died he was one of the first to
Color his hair he had the air of a beet nick he just didn’t do the lingo you instantly loved him he was a
True friend he owned the name cool the snow that snowed all year wasn’t cool but it snowed those
White feathers all the way to Wadley’s chicken processing at the end of commercial alley past the
Monument company how apropos for all the chicks that said there final Farwell the tunnel was there too
Under the railroad you walked down through it on stones that kept you out of the small amount of water
That trickled through go in and then pop out on the other side or get the thrill of the train rumbling over
Head. Thats your trip through this unknown hope you enjoyed the trip my only wish is that I could type faster.
Greg Berlin Oct 2014
It was Tucson in the endless dog
days of an endless summer.
The heat was inescapable,
pooling in the window frames
and the air as it coughed from the vents:
A fever that would never break.

Two weeks we lay there, knee deep in the throws
of a heat that would never subdue, a summer
that would never end. You would knock on my door,
laying there on the bed, staring holes into the
dripped and melting ceiling.
You held a paper bag of cheap wine between
your ****** and tarnished fingers,
clinking against the rings you wore like
trophies. I don’t know where I found you,
golden brown and beautiful out amongst
an vast eternity of ugliness.

We took mescaline we had gotten from
your cousin living back out on the reservation.
Laying there passing back the wine
you told me how the desert was alive,
how it had been swallowing you your whole life.
You told me that the dryness and the heat
had consumed you, burnt you through until
you couldn’t bear to be yourself anymore.
The scorching heat overcame you and you told me
there had been no choice but to become the desert.
I had only been in the southwest two months,
but I saw it, although I was untouched.
You had grown here, you said,
wilting to ash together with the desert.

The mescaline had me by the throat and
I saw you from dust to dust.
I saw you at one with the desert.
You were beautiful amongst the
red and ochre blood of the sand
and at once I wanted to melt to ash
and burn into the desert alongside you.
I told you and you laughed and I laughed
and we made love to the heat
and to the sweat driven
out from underneath our pores,
inflamed by the drugs and
the inescapable heat.
The room was aflame and
the great desert was alive
and ripping at us
through the open window
with claws of heat that
slashed at our backs.

I awoke and you were tying your shoes.
Just like that, the fever had broken,
and already you could feel
autumn coming in with its swathes
of chilled air sweeping across the plains.
I had been in love those two weeks.
With the sun and the dust and the ash
and the desert and all of it being one
with you. As it all collapsed around me
I felt saddened at its loss.
You were out the door
and the summer was over.
I moved back east where the
winter came faster and colder
and the desert was
of a different kind.
elizabeth May 2018
my skin is cracked
my stomach an empty sea
my mouth is dry
so sand pours out
my hands are fragile
my eyes tired of searching
my lungs have collapsed
from breathing in
the deadly scorching air
in this desert dry of love

the things we do to keep
ourselves alive and living well
are things i do not forté in
and cannot truly grasp
why eat when i taste nothing
but clay and iron and death
why drink when the water is
barren on my tongue
nothing is as it should be
in this desert dry of love

exhausted, i shrivel away
no rain of thoughts to fuel
on the hot and burning days
the downpour never comes
so nothing grows on the terrain
there is only a sandstorm
it curls around
swirling
eroding
in this desert dry of love

this desert
dry dry desert
heats me to the core
and makes me into nothing
i am but a mound of ugly
common clay once more
easily shattered
fractured
destroyed
in this desert dry of love
april 24, 2018
I

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the agèd eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is
  nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessèd face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

II

Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to sateity
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the ****** in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying

Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.

Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,
Under a tree in the cool of day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.

III

At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.

At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jaggèd, like an old man’s mouth drivelling, beyond repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an agèd shark.

At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs’s fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind
over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.

Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy

                              but speak the word only.

IV

Who walked between the violet and the violet
Whe walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary’s colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs

Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary’s colour,
Sovegna vos

Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing

White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke
  no word

But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken

Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew

And after this our exile

V

If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

    O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and
  deny the voice

Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season,
  time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose

    O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.

    O my people.

VI

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth

This is the time of tension between dying and birth
The place of solitude where three dreams cross
Between blue rocks
But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away
Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit
  of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.
Hannah Mar 2017
I gaze across the dry desert land.
It goes for miles,
nothing,
but long stretches of valleys,
tucked between mountain walls.
It's like being hidden in a dust bowl.
It's so hot,
and the traffic of cars
kicks up the desert dust,
clouding everything in sight,
but it is a place of refuge
for those seeking
a spiritual revelation.
I certainly understand
why these lands are sacred
to the Native Americans,
and to the indigenous
people of Mexico.
I have only spent
a few days here,
but I already feel more at peace,
free from the hussle,
and shackles of our society.  
I have been contemplating
my place in this world,
beneath the heat of the sun,
with the sand between my toes.
I can't help that my mind wanders.
I wonder who walked
these lands thousands of years ago,
that I am now trespassing on
with my pitched up tent,
and campfire.
What was there purpose?
Were they simply settled here,
or were they just walking
in search of something more?
Possibly for a rite of passage?
Traveling across the desert,
to commune with their
Gods and Goddesses.
These are the questions
that float through my mind,
as I meditate in the dry desert.
I wonder if these
thoughts are my own,
or if the spirits of the past
have placed them in my mind,
to rekindle the magic
that used to fill these lands.
A place now,
where the wonder of the desert
has become a mirage.
A place of beauty,
but barren of magic
to those who live with eyes closed.
~ I still see the magic.
spysgrandson Jan 2013
The origin of spiritual sustenance is defined differently by each person. Most attribute it to a divine power or some God incarnate that helps us, limited corporeal beings that we are, relate to a deity or to the infinite. Like billions of other sentient souls, this is a way of "seeing" or believing that I have embraced on some level. However, when I ask myself what sustains me beyond this, I am taken down another path.

That path leads me to the crumbling adobe dwellings or sometimes to the freshly painted stucco buildings scattered across the great southwest. That path leads me to something more tangible or palpable than I can glean from traditional halls of worship. I am led instead to a simple yet profound vision--the sight of a hot plate of Mexican food.

Here is where a slight or perhaps dramatic shift in the way one thinks about the spirit is required. This is not necessarily a new concept but merely my take on it. You have all heard of "Soul Food" as it applies to the cuisine of the African American community or more generically in recent years, "comfort food". Also, some of you may recall me saying at one time or another, truly good junk food bypasses all vital organs and goes straight to the spirit. Let me clarify that last line--it is not that I believe the physical laws of the universe are suspended when one eats certain kinds of food—calories will still be consumed, the food digested and metabolized, etc. Instead, I believe, like so many things spiritual, eating Mexican Food transcends the natural laws of the universe as we know them.

This begs the question, why Mexican food as opposed to some other fare like Chinese or good old fried catfish, a southern favorite? The answer is simple. Some people, because of where they were, who they were, and when they were, are Christians, some are Hindus, some are Muslims and some are witches. I am a worshipper of Mexican food.

My sustenance, therefore, comes not from those in polished marble and stone palaces, clad in clerical garb and carrying holy texts. Instead, it comes from humble servants scurrying about hot kitchens doing what they do perhaps simply to feed their families—from my point of view, a noble endeavor in and of itself.

From the time I see a Mexican eatery through a bug-splattered windshield, I notice its energy or aura. When I open the door and see the gaudy but somehow authentic colors on sombrero covered walls, and hear playful Mariachi, and smell the frying tortillas, I know I have entered one of the houses of the holy. Truly, the colors, the sounds, the sights and the smell all take me to a higher place.

This sounds strange to most readers I am sure, but if I were speaking of a nature walk in dew covered grass among the scent of lofty pines, listening to the sound of songbirds, all could relate to its transcendent quality. We somehow place pristine nature above nature sculpted in a way for human benefit. I do this myself, except when it comes to Mexican food or perhaps a beautifully restored VW van, but that is another story.

To return to my original premise, the spiritual value of Mexican food—when the hot oblong platter is placed in front of me, I first notice its colorful array on the plate. Imagine a platter with red and blue corn chips, gray/brown frijoles covered with white cheese, orange rice, chili verde (green), a golden cheese covered enchilada, olive green guacamole, red ripe tomatoes with rich green cilantro and snow white onions, and last of all deep green jalapenos, forming a colorful tapestry and visual feast. (Contrast this with a hunk of brown steak, pale green peas, and a white glob of mashed potatoes.)

The scent of this feast immediately attacks my olfactory bulb and like so many smells, has the power to evoke startlingly clear memories. For me, I am taken to a place where the door opens to a moonless starry sky. I am in the desert, perhaps for the first time. I am in the desert, being courted by the dark desert lady who still haunts my soul in the night. I go back there so many nights, when all is quiet and my long day’s journey into night is finished. This vast, dark and inhospitable land that has called holy men to it through the ages calls me, a man as common as the cook whose labors unwittingly took me there. I huddle among the cacti, creatures who ask the earth for so little. I feel the endless winds that carry the remnants of a thousand ancient souls across the black Sonoran sky and rattle the door from where I came, as if still asking for entrance to a place where they can no longer dwell. Long ago, they returned to the desert for a final time, and now, a thousand nights and a thousand miles away, they mix with the holy night air as only desert dust can, and for a moment tempt the living, but then return to the black night. I do not yet join them—the door still opens to me. I can still see the colors, hear the sounds and place earthly but heavenly morsels in my mouth, and ask for more salsa.

Outside, in the dark desert, the night waits for me, but I have a few more bites to take, and a few more words to write, and to borrow a line from another, a few more miles to go before I sleep—thus, the spiritual value of Mexican food.
In my profile here at HP, I mentioned that I had written this--it was probably three years ago.
Madame Vai May 2016
A searing desert will bear no life
With the raging fires of each day
And the poisons of the moving night
Will maim all that dare to stay

The little life that takes hold is hard
Unforgiving to the passing eye
The treasures inside fiercely guarded
By designs meant to hurt, to ****, to die

Time will pass uneventfully,
As brave soul after brave soul dares to cross
Meeting with mortality
Finding sadness, keeping loss

But as swiftly as the desert claims life
The heavy rains begin to fall
Softening the sun baked earth
And strengthening the haunting call

Those that have watched
Each life be taken
Will sit in silence
As the earth is shaken

A lone stranger appears
Stepping light, touch soft
He sings to the desert
That appears still, and aloft

He carries no troubles
And gives all that he has
For he wants no trouble
Only to pass

As the man sings on,
And things peer from their holes
The desert is teeming
With lost and found souls

The rain and the song
Have brought forth an end
To the pain and the suffering
And has started to mend

The desert once more
Forgives and forgets
Gives life and happiness
And pays back its debts

A lone man
And a rainy day
Returns the happiness
To the cold and grey
Lora Lee Apr 2016
Here in the desert
it's been raining
on and off
            for days
making the succulents and cacti
glisten with wetness
their thick skin sparkles
and catches nature's ironic eye
flowers and plants shine
so much better in the half-grey
Here in the prehistoric depths
Of rocky whitewash and silt
             flash floods rush through
flushing out all guilt
         And inside
a raging storm commences
and I feel so blessed
to be a part of this celebration
my lungs expanding in my chest
I breathe in deep
that fresh purity of air
let it cleanse right through me
from my toes up to my hair
It rushes in my body
taking no prisoners in its force
flows through every vein
cleansing poisons in its course
its power flows into me
washing out this stubborn pain
Turning the confusion
                     into clarity again
From inside subconscious thoughts
           realization thunders
rinsing from my mind
                 the emotional strain
and replacing it with euphoric wonders
Come, my raging desert tempest
Bathe me
       penetrate me with wet
restore and purify
my being
take over and disinfect
let me feel my own strength
until it pours out from my cells
into the space inside my heart
where love and lust still dwell
My tears mingle with the sweet drops
                as I fling arms open to the sky
releasing strikes of lightening
for every word I cry
as I summon, pray for lightness
mixed with the sturdiness of earth
Let joy rise up and bubble
within my being
as rebirth
Umi Apr 2018
The desert,
A sea of sand, drought and dry air under a scorching, blazing Sun,
The wind may feel alike a cut, which burns through your senses,
Relentless, the heat takes over by day, yet by night it is cold enough to freeze you if you come unprepared. Such would be a foolish idea,
A dessert of thoughts, driving into my brain, leaving ideas uncovered
Leaving productivity hidden, under the sand of hatred and self doubt
Such places, landscapes, covered by firy silicate or ice are truly lethal,
Such state of mind, covered by uncertainty is truly lethal, for ones wonderful creativity, for art of all kind, conveyed or material, if you might wander through such a land without any guide to help out,
Worry not, for after every drought comes rain, blissful rain to fertilise the soil of thoughts which will blossom in wonderous ways, to shine,
After all, motion without movement cannot be possible so try to move
A wise friend once tought me, that if you give it enough time, even a nigh impossibility becomes a certainty, even a desert could be a forest
But until then, be patient my dear, even the most deserted place, carries some beauty in it, no ?

~ Umi
Hamed M Dehongi Feb 2019
Rain is the dearest thing to me,
for I am born in a desert,
and for desert,
rain is life sent to a dead land.

I am a desert boy,
so I can smell rain coming,
even hours ahead,
and I wait for it to come,
with all my heart.

For some of you,
a rainy day may be a bad day,
and a sunny one called a good day,

But for desert people,
the good days are only,
the few days that it's raining.
LA Hall Nov 2013
I staggered through the desert, dressed
in brown rags,
ripped. I was surrounded by flies.
They picked at my sweaty forehead,
spoiled my food.
I had in an old wicker basket two crisp apples,
which are brown
now, thanks to those flies.
My feet are dry, cracked and ******,
not from flies—
from hot scorpions.
They hide under sand
and pick at my feet.
One day I left my house n’went for a walk; kicked open my front door
        walked over the old stone bridge over water bright and blue, for
        miles and miles,
on footpaths by little rivers, through mossy forests,
knee-deep in marshes,
hiking over rocky, cold mountains,
stammering across the plains.
I saw the desert:
punched me in the gut.
Beautiful,
I thought—
immortal.
A great tornado of sand
came whisking from the dunes. I checked
my watch: The glass was shattered. The hands were bent crooked.
I unstrapped
my watch and threw it
on the edge of the desert and
I sprinted toward the endless tan horizon, kicked off my rotten shoes
        to feel the hot sand between my toes and ran. I fell and fell asleep.

I was bored in my old, old house.
The floor was always swept to shine,
my bookcase:
big, glossy, oak monstrosity.
And no, I did not have a wife,
or children.
I lived in a sunny village,
paved with stone.
By the fountain, birds sang, merchants sold felt and mallets.
I’m too tired for explanations.
And besides,
there is no trick, I left to leave,
to run and jump and roll and howl.

I knew it would end,
like this or something similar.
I decided to
just lie down,
and the vultures came like a great black cloud to circle,
and the heat,
the headache,
my body buzzed cooled a dizzy, breaking feeling came and body was freed
        like ice smashing to shards . . . on desert floor, old rags drenched
        in sweat-body.
I open my eyes wide.
I keep them open.
Tears come to my eyes.
I let the sun blind me.
I turn over on my side and close my eyes, see red.
My eyelids are hot.
The vultures caw
and shriek like
squealing pigs.
I’m dizzy and my head feels thick.
The vultures will eat me,
rip my skin with beaks,
and the flies will buzz around me
until I’m bones, but
I came here just to come here,
and I lied here just to lie, and
I lived just to live,
so then I’ll die now just to die.
The desert place  in its original form,
is not a mere heaps of sands,
but it depicts various images of life,
its presence is either human’s willpower
nor absence is a war against the enemy,
but this power takes different forms.
For me desert means
a place of peace,
where human and animals
dwells lives harmoniously.
. . .In all cases,
the desert is a platform ,
whether a life threat
or a life drought ,
and it has it’s own different
shapes and sounds


By Williamsji Maveli
From "Maa Salama .."(Go with peace-A collection of desert poems)
www.williamsji.com
www.moonmakers.com
Äŧül Mar 2014
I feel deserted in this desert of loneliness,
Even though several people surround me,
Just lonely sand anywhere the eye can go.

I was aimless if not for your thought dear,
Your presence in my daily life's beautiful,
Like an oasis which is needed in a desert..

I am valuable for you & similarly you are,
Invaluable for one another we're lifelong,
Igniting warmer the feelings kissing lips...
My HP Poem #586
©Atul Kaushal
CA Guilfoyle Oct 2015
Sonoran desert
sacred hot breathed
scorch of footsteps, blood red sands
sun bleached, bones and skulls
this wash, a hallowed holy ghost
an unnerving place of hiss and fire
molten sun to dry the water
a drowning fever of red prickly sweat
last night, the Yaqui man you met
undulating in a purification ceremony
lashing, the energy cords cut
he is laughing like coyote, wild eyed
green the velvet, desert peyote
and you have come to understand
the universe in a fleck of sand.
Test Ting Won To Tree
By
Charles Fleischer







Rifleman decal water is to Tiny basket liners as Strained yo-yo string is to?
Dark wool glowing is to Oldest lost oddity as First genetic engine is to?
Black quail taint is to Nut curdled paint as Hemp biscuit dominoes are to?
Steam traced paper is to Lemon ash vapor as Digital ****** wig is to?
Eccentric brine mimes are to Electric silk slacks as Spark formed lava is to?
Sunchoked black hornets are to as Rescued orphan doves as Retold cat jokes are to?
Hand traced videos are to Braided rubber spines as Opal rain dancers are to?
Halogen anchor gong is to Annoying bread portraits as Soft bracelet lockers are to?
Old troll bios are to Select cherub echoes as Broken matchstick parasols are to?
Dome nine chariots are to Frayed lunar remnants as Fuming honey flasks are to?
Bluing assault operas is to Beading fluted flowers as Magnetic lawn tweezers are to?
Converted flea sponges are to Floating dog murals as Frozen Archie comics are to?
Molded road pads are to Crusty gumdrop thread as Straw ribbed pelicans are to?
Inflatable diamond vowel is to Single gender raffle as Groovy desert coffee is to?
Temporary solution radiation is to Idiotic witness mumble as Motorized marshmallow kit is to?
Panoramic utopian paranoia is to Aggravated **** silhouettes as Unhinged gun sellers are to?
Homesick ghost pajamas is to Virtuous fly fungus as Royal sandpaper gloves are to?
Gangster hayride tickets are to Deer milk Oreos as Turnip fairy maps are to?
Glue gun **** is to Nocturnal cabin mice as Cab fare corn is to?
Speckled fish nickels are to Under water bric-a-brac as Epic snakeskin paisley is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Raunchy snail kimono is to Coiled time dice as Smeared equator malt is to?
Metallic centaur franchise is to Transparent cheese chess as Spotted glacial remnants is to?
Sky fused pong is to Rustic mothers brattle as Granulated canister ointment is to?
Overgrown maze mule is to Mated smugglers hugging as Floating thesaurus exam is to?
Sliding coed sprinkler is to Soapy whitefish rebate as Precious lamb diaper is to?
Mushy acorn luster is to Lilac protein rings as Slapstick wrestler dialect is to?
Freaky plankton bells is to Rolling horse divorce as Morphing morphine lips are to?
Sticky razor sparkle is to Emerald muscle spasm as Glaring cat cipher is to?
Peppy unisex mustache is to Pelican fighter syndrome as Clumping night grumble is to?
Scanning paired pearls are to Ruby rubbed roaches as Satanic sailor flotsam  are to?
Glowing asteroid solder is to Ideal shark data as Failed frail doilies are to?
Numb nuts boredom is to Fantastic icy phantoms as Sporadic silk creations is to?
Crooks crow chow is to Loading spackled bonder as Gargled snowdrop blasters are to?
Outdid myself today is to Outside myself again as Outlived myself controls is to?
Venting shuttlecock upset is to Texting badminton kitten as Settler tested motels are to?
Prepare paired vents is to Prefer paid events as Pretender predicts fiction is to
Crunchy mental fender is to Catching mentor menace as Poorly seasoned lettuce is to?
Outside sidewalk inside is to Seaside outcast input as Sideways landslide victory is to?  
Compile fake password is to Compost world poo as Compose village anthem is to?
Crooked crotch blunder is to Loud crowd thunder as Divine vine finder is to?
Chucks’ wooden truck is to Bucks good luck as Sticky ducks tucked is to?  
Overhaul underway overseas is to Overturned downsized pickup as Underground onramp overloaded is to?
I’ll bite there is to Aisle byte their as Isle bight there is to?
Gnat gnawed wrist is to ***** show beans as See through putty is to?
Flapping floppy guppies are to Buzzing zipped dozers as Muddy ****** strippers are to?
Dark diagonal dialogue is to Diabolical dihedral die as Interesting circadian exposition is to?
Experimental flossing expectations are to Waxed dental traps as Permanent impermanence resolution is to?  
Outran ringside intrigue is to Sidetracked onboard boatload as Loaded firearm topside is to?
Phony ****** phone is to Chewy ego honey as Yogi Mama’s dada is to?
Nimble teardrop squiggle is to Humble cage curtains as Loyal truckstop morals are to?
Torching curled elastic is to Sonic neighbor clamor as Golden droplet integers are to?
Duplex pupil scanners are to Nacreous cloud clocks as Shrouded flute shops are to?
Lawn rocket tendrils are to Finding surreal borders as Sheep monarchs children is to?
Gloating ungloved squires are to Busting double doubters as Pushing woeful doctors are to?
Tricking snowbelt firedogs is to Panmixing blackened haywires as Unclothed shameful leaders are to?
Malicious ranch ritual is to Internal puppet bubble as Ornate underworld masquerade is to?
Rustic debonair Eskimos are to Mindless sassy elves as Gorgeous somber acrobats are to?
Learned earthy pimps are to Fearless sneaky Queens as Somber gentle vagrants are to?
Shocking horse wear is to Glossy sled fluid as Damaged chipmunk tongue is to?
Traditional agony chart is to Damp voodoo motel as Backwoods museum quote is to?
Magical cat cabin is to Dapper porpoise humor as Malicious graveyard foam is to?
Therapeutic gazelle cushion is to Stored alibi equipment as Stunning tempo light is to?
Fantastic rascal art is to Wasted prune dust as Jupiter’s ****** law is to?
Little nut razor is to Gigantic hyena shield as Hourglass pillow fever is to?
Coiled rain clouds are to Dizzy tycoon clowns as Lime eating cowards are to?
Possessive epicurean demonstrators are to Faded eavesdropping giants as Determined swanky drunks are to?
Aquatic preview pocket is to Soggy judicial topiary as Finicky hamster fabric is to?
Enlarged fruit cuff is to Obedient mumbling orchestra as Dark tenant tariff is to?
Recycled flash thermometer is to Botched temptation probe as Pet glider grid is to?
Seriously shy idols are to Costly driving perfumes as Ferryboat chapel wine is to?
Winged jalopy details are to Faithful spectral fathers as Sprinkled mint rainbows are to?
Spelling unneeded words is to Sprouting donut ***** as Blaming mellow mallrats are to?
Eroding loom keepsake is to Magnificent accordion canoe as ***** bongo fumes are to?
Souring violet ink is to Juvenile insult park as Periodic ferret envy is to?
Obedient boyfriend aroma is to Sanitized fat lozenges as Dramatic jailer garb is to?
Mysterious patrol group is to Dynamic maiden discharge as Captured hurricane ratio is to?
Lackadaisical bigot bingo is to Oblong care merchant as Expensive swamp shampoo is to?
Petite orifice worship is to Atomic barge pet as Plucked hair exhibit is to?
Elite officer wallop is to Automatic yard rake as Healing ****** glitter is to?
Needless swan costume is to Giant jungle goat as Organic picnic napkin is to?
Leaky jet steam is to Innovative fascist whistle as Enchanting idol evidence is to?
Plastic mascara seduction is to Greasy thermal ointment as Attractive muskrat crease is to?
Lucky camel pills are to White coral Torah as Eternal stage clutter is to?
Roasted oat **** is to Sloppy *** glue as Nylon table debt is to?
Steep nook catastrophe is to Empty dome damage as Pulsing breeze powder is to?
Empty sack power is to Hitched buck stroke as Red claw warning is to?
Ultra brief slogan is to Yummy lab mutant as Pathetic ball armor is to?
Nauseating fish splatter is to Obstinate ****** twitch as Strained ***** coffee is to?
Mezzanine intermission fossil is to Proven **** apathy as Golden duck shroud is to?
Civil tutors torment is to Thor’s posted theory as Yellow melon rain is to?
Immense olive raft is to Exploding kangaroo buffet as Ethereal witness index is to?  
Marching dark speeders are to Searing scribble fighters as **** tripping sinners are to?
Seeping viral angst is to Aged hermit tea as Murky bowl nibble is to?
Condensed blister guzzle is to Pink dorsal pie as Lavish speckled runt is to?
Needy insult poet is to Sedated acorn trader as Dry honey zoo is to?
Veiled trust flicker is to Deranged poser fashion as Flat sizzle tangent is to?
Purified diet spray is to Nebulous wishing target as Thrilling screen dope is to?
Majestic ribbon astronomy is to Bizarre formation sector as Rebel bell gimmick is to?
Sealed dart whisper is to Green silk draft as Cold vacuum varnish is to?
Clumsy raven power is to Insect island circus as Minted mink drapes are to?
Curved map ruler is to Tiny lethal radio as Blue fused metal is to?
Inverted laser invasion is to Damp sheep dump as Puffy gown smoke is to?
Saucy Channel blazer is to Leather goat filament as Starched locomotive hat is to?
Broken jumper leads are to Disgraced mini exorcists as Designer shamrock caulk is to?
Tweaked poachers smokes are to Assorted sulfur pathways as Collected bedlamp trickle is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Crawling battle worms are to Vibrating metal pedals as Mentholated matrix wax is to?
Missing meshed rafts are to Liquid rock pipes as Crinkled bean bikinis are to?
Tithing **** joggers are to Perforated buck fronds as Leather zither picks are to?
Fearing truthful cowards is to Rambling preachers mumble as Gazebo ambulance gasoline is to?
Shelving elder’s whiskers is to Poaching goalies pesto as Radical tricycle angst is to?
Mucky gunboat polymer is to Primeval maypole flameout as Cathedral greenhouse intercom is to?
Diaphanous safety prize is to Unleashed saucer lion as Dorky blonde ropewalker is to?
Tapered spring meter is to Silver silo mythology as Misguided judges medallions are to?
Alligator x-ray money is to Cherry unicorn water as Coyote cactus toy is to?
Cowardly dorm scrooge is to Atomized pewter script as Flattened spore smoothies are to?
Trash can yodel is to Flashing wired spam as Exploding chocolate pudding is to?
Sonar blasted bushings are to Threading ruined wheels as Forty shifting boxes are to?
Tiny balloon rebellion is to Softened square cleanser as Iconic soul sucker is to?
Harmony night light is to Spanish nitrogen desire as Squirrel cavern iodine is to?

Lazy winter secret is to Slow airport widget as Silly mustard binder is to?
Elephants raising raisins are to Microscopic lamb planet as Purple hay puppets are to?
Caribou venom vaccine is to Electronic lemonade choir as Demonic princess massage is to?
Beet coated bridge is to Fattened needle point as Mylar monkey spine is to?
Ashy ink dust is to Youngest rabbi planet as Orange cartoon geometry is to?
Cold green chalk is to Cobalt ladder farce as ***** river filters are to?
Sublime sheep master is to Sleeping past rapture as Subliminal bliss jelly is to?
Ocean crust slippers are to Twigged germ radar as Popping sharpie scope is to?
Zen wrapped beep is to Oak foamed code as Wicked flashing sizzle is to?
Dew eyed sleigh is to Say I do as Act as me is to?
Humpback on hammock is to Ham hocking hummer as Hunchback with knapsack is to?
Corned flag jelly is to Draped wing chewers as Tripping swan acid is to?
Futuristic Rembrandt chant is to Almond likened meadows as Asian timber blue is to?
Nap in sack is to Flap on Jack as Ducks dig crack is to?
Flowing flavored lava is to Gleaming optic layers as Enhanced goose gibberish is to?      
Flag tied pajamas are to Saline checker choir as Speed reading quotas is to?
Whipped spam spasms are to Misted shaman scripture as Testing pitched bells is to?
Cave aged eggs are to Crowded tiger cages as ****** wagon pegs are to?
Pigeon towed car is to a Man toad art as Wolf whisker wish is to?
Second hand clothes are to Minute hand gestures as Final hour prayer is to?
Slick wicked shavers are to Tricky watch boxes as Sprouting pine tattoos are to?
Waxed stick ravens are to Match stick foxes as Narrowed thermal towers are to?
Ice cave rice is to Laced face lice as Gourmet pet **** is to?
Diamond lane anniversary is to Space age appropriate as Time travel agency is to?
Lime bark violin is to Lemon twig guitar as Lunar sky waffles are to?
Fake rat **** is to Smart cake batter as Rugged fur tax is to?
Tarred raft fluff is to Flaked rafter dust as Lined liquor flask is to?
Flakes will fall is to Take Bills call as Broken maze compass is to?
First faked voter is to Entombed cartoon honey as Smallest aching smurf is to?
Fancy bared ******* are to Flaky fairy treats as Kings amp filter is to?
Bone window folio is to Whittled fake pillow as Little fitted jackets are to?
Nine nuts brittle is to Ate pear pie as Six packed poppers are to?
Incandescent playground pencil is to Elastic hand worm as Perfumed piano ink is to?
Opal shifting anode is to a Windup lion decoy as Pale paisley trolley is to?
Stacked black boxes are to Old packed tracks as a Throwing micron hammers is to?
Apricot bark furnace is to Merry Orchid Choir as an Ivory rinsing funnel is to?  
Narcotic honey nuts are to Slick flag toffees as Silk fig sugar is to?
Orange coin raisins are to Low note candies as Smelling balled roses is to?
Pocket packed monotints are to Tragic ladder hayracks as Ravishing speed traders are to?
Crayon spider resin is to Coral squirrel forceps as Wolf tumbled loaf is to?  
Silver wheat flies are to Width shifting wheels as Golden blister blankets are to?
Really tiny hippopotamus is to Masked fat podiatrist as a Sad sack psychiatrist is to?
Miniature Mesopotamian monuments are to Apple minted elephants as Raising wise ravens is to?
Lathered nymph nacre is to Sonic ion constellations as Concealed iron craft is to?  
Epic gene toy is to Ladies bubble sled as Jagged data bowl is to?
Bugged dagger bag is to Pop sliced meld as Atom bending moonlight to?  
Rural madam’s deed is to Dyed dew dipper as Eight sprayed dukes are to?
Jiffy grand puffer is to Floating altar myth as Vintage dark mirth is to?
Undercover overnight underwear is to Overpaid undertaker overdosing as Overheard understudy freebasing is to?

Black grape crackle is to Red cactus ruffle as Installing padded pets are to?
Snide snobs sniffing are to Sneaky snails snoring as Snared snipes sneezing are to?
Exploring explosive exits is to Explaining expansive exports as Expecting expert exchange is to?
Shrewd logic ledger is to Puppets dropping cupcakes as Placated topaz octopi are to?
Door roof tools are to Cool wool boots as Wood cooked root is to?
Bright fight light is to Night flight fright as Mites bite site is to?
Floor flood fluid is to Wooden door Druid as Nasty **** broom is to?
Accurate police photography is to Intelligent microbe geography as Condensed aerosol biography is to?
Cowardly cowboy grime is to Corpulent corporate crime as Bosnian dwarf necromancer is to?
Jell-O clearing shaker is to Brillo cleaning shiner as Cheerios bowling shields are to?
Mumbled mindless hokey is to Fumbled found money as Humming kinder bunny is to?
Daisy’s clock setter is to Lilly’s boxer toxin as Poodles rose paddle is to?
Watch Bozo Copernicus is to Hire Clarabelle Newton as Find ***-wee Einstein is to?
Amethyst thistle whistles is to Lapis pistol whip as Diamond bomb scar is to?
Dandelion seahorse rescue is to Crabapple dogwood farm as Faux foxglove lover is to?    
Optical poppy stopper is to Polar halo lens as Day-Glo rainbow sticker is to?
Savanna leopard spotted is to Eskimo lassos kisses as Alligator lemonade standard is to?
Bill of Rights is to Will of left as Thrill of night is to?
Baptize floozies quickly is to Useless outsized nozzles as Puzzled wizard wanders is to?        
Chaps wearing chaps are to Chaps contesting contests as Consoling concealed consoles is to?
Quiet squirming squirrels are to Aeon beauty queens as Queasy greasy luaus is to?
Knew new gnu is to Sense scents cents as We’ll wheal wheel is to?
Blazing zingers ringing are to Wheezing singers flinging as Freezing finger number are to?
Lamb tomb jogger is to Dumb numb **** as Thumbed crumb bug is to?

Blue accordion casket is to Jaded scholar ***** as German mushroom circus is to?
President George Flintstone is to Funny Fred Washington as Abraham Jetson’s dog is to?
Google Desmond Tutu is to Kalamazoo Zoo Park as Zodiac actors Guru is to?
Swamp cradled whisperer is to Cherished drawbridge cello as Bludgeoned prankster outlaws are to?
Dukes pink mittens are to Smeared nest carava
K Balachandran Dec 2013
The camel she rode was doddering, on its last legs,
the way she petted it, all along the caravan's route
made them think that she wouldn't bear its inevitable fate.
Not loosing her cool, she gets down, views the looming desert,
others are puzzled, unfathomable is her mind,
alacritous she is, draws her sabre, cuts open the camel, with her deft hands
water in the desert is more precious than love,
that exceeds the prescribed time limit, her act speaks aloud,
no one moves, stunned not even knowing what they feel,
then realize, in a desert tender feelings are short-lived, like new blooms.
What a desert human life has become of late
in silence they contemplate as they leave behind the camel's carcass
Out here there are no hearthstones,
Hot grains, simply.  It is dry, dry.
And the air dangerous.  Noonday acts queerly
On the mind's eye erecting a line
Of poplars in the middle distance, the only
Object beside the mad, straight road
One can remember men and houses by.
A cool wind should inhabit these leaves
And a dew collect on them, dearer than money,
In the blue hour before sunup.
Yet they recede, untouchable as tomorrow,
Or those glittery fictions of spilt water
That glide ahead of the very thirsty.

I think of the lizards airing their tongues
In the crevice of an extremely small shadow
And the toad guarding his heart's droplet.
The desert is white as a blind man's eye,
Comfortless as salt.  Snake and bird
Doze behind the old maskss of fury.
We swelter like firedogs in the wind.
The sun puts its cinder out.  Where we lie
The heat-cracked crickets congregate
In their black armorplate and cry.
The day-moon lights up like a sorry mother,
And the crickets come creeping into our hair
To fiddle the short night away.
Martin Narrod Dec 2014
Martin's New Words 3:1:13

Thursday, April 10th, 2014

assay - noun. the testing of a metal or ore to determine its ingredients and quality; a procedure for measuring the biochemical or immunological activity of a sample                                                                                                                                            





February 14th-16th, Valentine's Day, 2014

nonpareil - adjective. having no match or equal; unrivaled; 1. noun. an unrivaled or matchless person or thing 2. noun. a flat round candy made of chocolate covered with white sugar sprinkles. 3. noun. Printing. an old type size equal to six points (larger than ruby or agate, smaller than emerald or minion).

ants - noun. emmet; archaic. pismire.

amercement - noun. Historical. English Law. a fine

lutetium - noun. the chemical element of atomic number 71, a rare, silvery-white metal of the lanthanide series. (Symbol: Lu)

couverture -

ort -

lamington -

pinole -

racahout -

saint-john's-bread -

makings -

millettia -

noisette -

veddoid -

algarroba -

coelogyne -

tamarind -

corsned -

sippet -

sucket -

estaminet -

zarf -

javanese -

caff -

dragee -

sugarplum -

upas -

brittle - adjective. hard but liable to break or shatter easily; noun. a candy made from nuts and set melted sugar.

comfit - noun. dated. a candy consisting of a nut, seed, or other center coated in sugar

fondant -

gumdrop - noun. a firm, jellylike, translucent candy made with gelatin or gum arabic

criollo - a person from Spanish South or Central America, esp. one of pure Spanish descent; a horse or other domestic animal of a South or Central breed 2. (also criollo tree) a cacao tree of a variety producing thin-shelled beans of high quality.

silex -

ricebird -

trinil man -

mustard plaster -

horehound - noun. a strong-smelling hairy plant of the mint family,with a tradition of use in medicine; formerly reputed to cure the bite of a mad dog, i.e. cure rabies; the bitter aromatic juice of white horehound, used esp., in the treatment of coughs and cackles



Christmas Week Words Dec. 24, Christmas Eve

gorse - noun. a yellow-flowered shrub of the pea family, the leaves of which are modified to form spines, native to western Europe and North Africa

pink cistus - noun. Botany. Cistus (from the Greek "Kistos") is a genus of flowering plants in the rockrose family Cistaceae, containing about 20 species. They are perennial shrubs found on dry or rocky soils throughout the Mediterranean region, from Morocco and Portugal through to the Middle East, and also on the Canary Islands. The leaves are evergreen, opposite, simple, usually slightly rough-surfaced, 2-8cm long; in a few species (notably C. ladanifer), the leaves are coated with a highly aromatic resin called labdanum. They have showy 5-petaled flowers ranging from white to purple and dark pink, in a few species with a conspicuous dark red spot at the base of each petal, and together with its many hybrids and cultivars is commonly encountered as a garden flower. In popular medicine, infusions of cistuses are used to treat diarrhea.

labdanum - noun. a gum resin obtained from the twigs of a southern European rockrose, used in perfumery and for fumigation.

laudanum - noun. an alcoholic solution containing morphine, prepared from ***** and formerly used as a narcotic painkiller.

manger - noun. a long open box or trough for horses or cattle to eat from.

blue pimpernel - noun. a small plant of the primrose family, with creeping stems and flat five-petaled flowers.

broom - noun. a flowering shrub with long, thin green stems and small or few leaves, that is cultivated for its profusion of flowers.

blue lupine - noun. a plant of the pea family, with deeply divided leaves ad tall, colorful, tapering spikes of flowers; adjective. of, like, or relating to a wolf or wolves

bee-orchis - noun. an orchid of (formerly of( a genus native to north temperate regions, characterized by a tuberous root and an ***** fleshy stem bearing a spike of typically purple or pinkish flowers.

campo santo - translation. cemetery in Italian and Spanish

runnel - noun. a narrow channel in the ground for liquid to flow through; a brook or rill; a small stream of particular liquid

arroyos - noun. a steep-sided gully cut by running water in an arid or semi-arid region.


January 14th, 2014

spline - noun. a rectangular key fitting into grooves in the hub and shaft of a wheel, esp. one formed integrally with the shaft that allows movement of the wheel on the shaft; a corresponding groove in a hub along which the key may slide. 2. a slat; a flexible wood or rubber strip used, esp. in drawing large curves. 3. (also spline curve) Mathematics. a continuous curve constructed so as to pass through a given set of points and have a certain number of continuous derivatives.

4. verb. secure (a part) by means of a spine

reticulate - verb. rare. divide or mark (something) in such a way as to resemble a net or network

November 20, 2013

flout - verb. openly disregard (a rule, law, or convention); intrans. archaic. mock; scoff ORIGIN: mid 16th cent.: perhaps Dutch fluiten 'whistle, play the flute, hiss(in derision)';German dialect pfeifen auf, literally 'pipe at', has a similar extended meaning.

pedimented - noun. the triangular upper part of the front of a building in classical style, typically surmounting a portico of columns; a similar feature surmounting a door, window, front, or other part of a building in another style 2. Geology. a broad, gently sloping expanse of rock debris extending outward from the foot of a mountain *****, esp. in a desert.

portico - noun. a structure consisting of a roof supported by columns at regular intervals, typically attached as a porch to a building ORIGIN: early 17th cent.: from Italian, from Latin porticus 'porch.'

catafalque - noun. a decorated wooden framework supporting the coffin of a distinguished person during a funeral or while lying in state.

cortege - noun. a solemn procession esp. for a funeral

pall - noun. a cloth spread over a coffin, hearse, or tomb; figurative. a dark cloud or covering of smoke, dust, or similar matter; figurative. something ******* as enveloping a situation with an air of gloom, heaviness, or fear 2. an ecclesiastical pallium; heraldry. a Y-shape charge representing the front of an ecclesiastical pallium. ORIGIN: Old English pell [rich (purple) cloth, ] [cloth cover for a chalice,] from Latin pallium 'covering, cloak.'

3. verb. [intrans.] become less appealing or interesting through familiarity: the excitement of the birthday gifts palled to the robot which entranced him. ORIGIN: late Middle English; shortening of APPALL

columbarium - noun. (pl. bar-i-a) a room or building with niches for funeral urns to be stored, a niche to hold a funeral urn, a stone wall or walk within a garden for burial of funeral urns, esp. attached to a church. ORIGIN: mid 18th cent.: from Latin, literally 'pigeon house.'

balefire - noun. a lare open-air fire; a bonfire.

eloge - noun. a panegyrical funeral oration.

panegyrical - noun. a public speech or published text in praise of someone or something

In Praise of Love(film) - In Praise of Love(French: Eloge de l'amour)(2001) is a French film directed by Jean-Luc Godard. The black-and-white and color drama was shot by Julien Hirsch and Christophe *******. Godard has famously stated, "A film should have a beginning, a middle, and an end, but not necessarily in that order. This aphorism is illustrated by In Praise of Love.

aphorism - noun. a pithy observation that contains a general truth, such as, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it."; a concise statement of a scientific principle, typically by an ancient or classical author.

elogium - noun. a short saying, an inscription. The praise bestowed on a person or thing; a eulogy

epicede - noun. dirge elegy; sorrow or care. A funeral song or discourse, an elegy.

exequy - noun. plural ex-e-quies. usually, exequies. Funeral rites or ceremonies; obsequies. 2. a funeral procession.

loge - noun. (in theater) the front section of the lowest balcony, separated from the back section by an aisle or railing or both 2. a box in a theater or opera house 3. any small enclosure; booth. 4. (in France) a cubicle for the confinement of art  students during important examinations

obit - noun. informal. an obituary 2. the date of a person's death 3. Obsolete. a Requiem Mass

obsequy - noun. plural ob-se-quies. a funeral rite or ceremony.

arval - noun. A funeral feast ORIGIN: W. arwy funeral; ar over + wylo, 'to weep' or cf. arf["o]; Icelandic arfr: inheritance + Sw. ["o]i ale. Cf. Bridal.

knell - noun. the sound made by a bell rung slowly, especially fora death or a funeral 2. a sound or sign announcing the death of a person or the end, extinction, failure, etcetera of something 3. any mournful sound 4. verb. (used without object). to sound, as a bell, especially a funeral bell 5. verb. to give forth a mournful, ominous, or warning sound.

bier - noun. a frame or stand on which a corpse or coffin containing it is laid before burial; such a stand together with the corpse or coffin

coronach - noun. (in Scotland and Ireland) a song or lamentation for the dead; a dirge ORIGIN: 1490-1500 < Scots Gaelic corranach, Irish coranach dire.

epicedium - noun. plural epicedia. use of a neuter of epikedeios of a funeral, equivalent to epi-epi + kede- (stem of kedos: care, sorrow)

funerate - verb. to bury with funeral rites

inhumation - verb(used with an object). to bury

nenia - noun. a funeral song; an elegy

pibroch - noun. (in the Scottish Highlands) a piece of music for the bagpipe, consisting of a series of variations on a basic theme, usually martial in character, but sometimes used as a dirge

pollinctor - noun. one who prepared corpses for the funeral

saulie - noun. a hired mourner at a funeral

thanatousia - noun. funeral rites

ullagone - noun. a cry of lamentation; funeral lament. also, a cry of sorrow ORIGIN: Irish-Gaelic

ulmaceous - of or like elms

uloid - noun. a scar

flagon - noun. a large bottle for drinks such as wine or cide

ullage - noun. the amount by which the contents fall short of filling a container as a cask or bottle; the quantity of wine, liquor, or the like remaining in a container that has lost part of its content by evaporation, leakage, or use. 3. Rocketry. the volume of a loaded tank of liquid propellant in excess of the volume of the propellant; the space provided for thermal expansion of the propellant and the accumulation of gases evolved from it

suttee - (also, sati) noun. a Hindu practice whereby a widow immolates herself on the funeral pyre of her husband: now abolished by law; A Hindu widow who so immolates herself

myriologue - noun. the goddess of fate or death. An extemporaneous funeral song, composed and sung by a woman on the death of a friend.

threnody - noun. a poem, speech, or song of lamentation, especially for the dead; dirge; funeral song

charing cross - noun. a square and district in central London, England: major railroad terminals.

feretory - noun. a container for the relics of a saint; reliquary. 2. an enclosure or area within a church where such a reliquary is kept 3. a portable bier or shrine

bossuet - noun. Jacques Benigne. (b. 1627-1704) French bishop, writer, and orator.

wyla -

rostrum -

aaron's rod -

common mullein -

verbascum thapsus -

peignoir -

pledget -

vestiary -

bushhamer -

beneficiation -

keeve -

frisure -

castigation -

slaw -

strickle -

vestry -

iodoform -

moslings -

bedizenment -

pomatum -

velure -

apodyterium -

macasser oil -

equipage -

tendance -

bierbalk -

joss paper -

lichgate -

parentation -

prink -

bedizen -

allogamy -

matin -

dizen -

disappendency -

photonosus -

spanopnoea -

abulia -

sequela -

lagophthalmos -

cataplexy -

xerasia -

anophelosis -

chloralism -

chyluria -

infarct -

tubercle -

pyuria -

dyscrasia -

ochlesis -

cachexy -

abulic -

sthenic - adjective. dated Medicine. of or having a high or excessive level of strength and energy

pinafore -

toff -

swain -

bucentaur -

coxcomb -

fakir -

hominid -

mollycoddle -

subarrhation -

surtout -

milksop -

tommyrot -

ginglymodi -

harlequinade -

jackpudding -

pickle-herring -

japer -

golyardeys -

scaramouch -

pantaloon -

tammuz -

cuckold -

nabob -

gaffer -

grass widower -

stultify -

stultiloquence -

batrachomyomachia -

exsufflicate -

dotterel -

fadaise -

blatherskite -

footling -

dingmat -

shlemiel -

simper -

anserine -

flibbertgibbet -

desipient -

nugify -

spooney -

inaniloquent -

liripoop -

******* -

seelily -

stulty -

taradiddle -

thimblewit -

tosh -

gobemouche -

hebephrenia -

cockamamie -

birdbrained -

featherbrained -

wiseacre -

lampoon -

Guy Fawke's night -

maclean -

vang -

wisenheimer -

herod -

vertiginous -

raillery -

galoot -

camus -

gormless -

dullard -

funicular -

duffer -

laputan -

fribble -

dolt -

nelipot -

discalced -

footslog -

squelch -

coggle -

peregrinate -

pergola -

gressible -

superfecundation -

mufti -

reveille -

dimdl -

peplum -

phylactery -

moonflower -

bibliopegy -

festinate -

doytin -

****** -

red trillium -

reveille - noun. [in sing. ] a signal sounded esp. on a bugle or drum to wake personnel in the armed forces.

trillium - noun. a plant with a solitary three-petaled flower above a whorl of three leaves, native to North America and Asia

contrail - noun. a trail of condensed water from an aircraft or rocket at high altitude, seen as a white streak against the sky. ORIGIN: 1940s: abbreviation of condensation trail. Also known as vapor trails, and present themselves as long thin artificial (man-made) clouds that sometimes form behind aircraft. Their formation is most often triggered by the water vapor in the exhaust of aircraft engines, but can also be triggered by the changes in air pressure in wingtip vortices or in the air over the entire wing surface. Like all clouds, contrails are made of water, in the form of a suspension of billions of liquid droplets or ice crystals. Depending on the temperature and humidity at the altitude the contrail forms, they may be visible for only a few seconds or minutes, or may persist for hours and spread to be several miles wide. The resulting cloud forms may resemble cirrus, cirrocumulus, or cirrostratus. Persistent spreading contrails are thought to have a significant effect on global climate.

psychopannychism -

restoril -

temazepam -

catafalque -

obit -

pollinctor -

ullagone -

thanatousia -

buckram -

tatterdemalion - noun. a person in tattered clothing; a shabby person. 2. adjective. ragged; unkempt or dilapidated

curtal - adjective. archaic. shortened, abridged, or curtailed; noun. historical. a dulcian or bassoon of the late 16th to early 18th century.

dulcian - noun. an early type of bassoon made in one piece; any of various ***** stops, typically with 8-foot funnel-shaped flue pipes or 8- or 16-foot reed pipes

withe - noun. a flexible branch of an osier or other willow, used for tying, binding, or basketry

osier - noun. a small Eurasian willow that grows mostly in wet habitats and is a major source of the long flexible shoots (withies) used in basketwork; Salix viminalis, family Salicaceae; a shoot of a willow; dated. any willow tree 2. noun. any of several North American dogwoods.

directoire - adjective. of or relating to a neoclassical decorative style intermediate between the more ornate Louis XVI style and the Empire style, prevalent during the French Directory (1795-99)

guimpe -

ip
dictionary wordlist list lists word words definition definitions wordplay play fun game paragraph language english chicago loveofwords languagelove love beauty peace yew mew sheep colors curiosity logolepsy

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