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Nomads |
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fractal007 Senior Member
since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958 |
I thought I'd write a poem after reading a bit about the Gobi Desert and how people used to believe that nothing but demons lived there, on account of the strange sounds of the howling winds. Being one to let his imagination run away with him, I decided that that was as good a topic as any on which to write a poem, lol. It's cold here at night, under the stars pressing against the ceaselessly unstable grains of the endlessly marching dunes as they capture day and night what's set before them. The demons whisper their hollow gong sounds and chant of the lost who bravely crossed this place once looking for brighter plains and newer worlds to raid, pillage and destroy. Nothing is ever the same in our repetetive march toward home, toward salvation from the wind and the shame and the heat and the pain and the death. Over one dune, then the next and then hundreds more, hoping to see something new over that next peak - footprints blowing away in the sand, us meeting ourselves trailing toward home, marching an orbit about an invisible centre somewhere seated within the dunes and the sand. 2+2=5 for sufficiently large values of 2 |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
Kingston Trio "They Call the Wind Mariah" Away out here they have a name for rain and wind and fire. The rain is Tess, the fire's Joe and they call the wind Mariah. Mariah blows the stars around and sets the clouds a-flyin'. Mariah makes the mountains sound like folks was out there dyin'. Mariah. (Mariah). Mariah. (Mariah). They call the wind Mariah. Before I knew Mariah's name and heard her wail and whinin', I had a gal and she had me and the sun was always shinin'. But then one day I left my gal. I left her far behind me and now I'm lost, so gol' darn lost not even God can find me. Mariah. (Mariah). Mariah. (Mariah). They call the wind Mariah. Out here they have a name for rain and wind and fire only. When you're lost and all alone, there ain't no name for lonely. And I'm a lost and lonely man without a star to guide me. Mariah blow my love to me. I need my gal beside me. Mariah. (Mariah.) They call the wind Mariah. Mariah! Mariah. (Mariah.) They call the wind Mariah. Kevin, have you ever heard this oldie? It came to my mind after reading your nomad piece. It's really about the Big Sur area south of San Francisco, but could have been about any windy place. |
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LoveBug
Moderator
Member Elite
since 2000-01-08
Posts 4697 |
Hey there.. nice work. I really like the imagery you've put to this interesting story. It flows quite nicely, although I didn't detect a strict form. (It's been awhile since I've read anything though, so I may have missed it). I like this : Over one dune, then the next and then hundreds more, hoping to see something new over that next peak What a statement of searching and longing..Very nice  Oh, make me Thine forever |
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Marshalzu
since 2001-02-15
Posts 2681Lurking |
Wonderful writing |
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