Within Paradise Landscapes

we are the wilderness
the wilderness is us
deserts are paradises

of possibility awaiting
return long departed
rains years missing

ever ready
to flower
in instant rain

into vast desert seas
of flower blooms
within paradise landscapes

of all bliss minded
to swim river wind
flows of desert flowers

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Beneath A Desert Moon

From the mountains of the moon to the mighty delta
From the deserts of the West to the shining sea
Beneath the canopy of stars flowed the serpent river
Flowing through my father's land that he left to me
From the baker to the priest to the candle maker
From the highest to the low in my father's land
We make our offer to the sun 'fore the break of morning
Or else everything we have will just turn to sand
I have a lot to ask
I have a lot that I need to say
I have so much to do
And all I need is another day
From the soldier to the scribe to the carpet maker
All the different colored threads in a carpet loom
A woven tapestry of life is our mighty nation
This is the writing on the wall of my father's tomb
We have a lot to ask
We have a lot that we need to say
We have so much to do
And all we need is another day

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song performed by Sting
Added by Lucian Velea
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When fortune deserts us, our friends are nowhere.

Latin proverbs
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When your luck deserts you, even cold food burns.

Zambian proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Desert Inn

I never meet her in the city
But believe me she is pretty
Six-hundred-fifty miles away
I meet my angel in the desert
In the desert I can meet her
Oh in the desert heat she makes me play
Im not trying to be clever
Im not getting there forever
Only flying with the wind and thee
Im not trying to be late
Just becoming a slave
Come on angel, play the game
Im not trying to be clever
Im not getting there forever
Wont fight with the window on me
Im not trying to be late
Just becoming a slave
Come on angel, play the game
Shes never in the city
But the woman shes pretty

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song performed by Yello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Desert Inn

I never meet her in the city
But believe me she is pretty
Six-hundred-fifty miles away
I meet my angel in the desert
In the desert I can meet her
Oh in the desert heat she makes me play
Im not trying to be clever
Im not getting there forever
Only flying with the wind and thee
Im not trying to be late
Just becoming a slave
Come on angel, play the game
Im not trying to be clever
Im not getting there forever
Wont fight with the window on me
Im not trying to be late
Just becoming a slave
Come on angel, play the game
Shes never in the city
But the woman shes pretty

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song performed by Yello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wolf

Never believe all you hear.
Wolves are not as bad as lambs.
I've been a wolf all my life,
And have two lovely daughters
To show for it, while I could
Tell you sickening tales of
Lambs who got their just deserts.

poem by Kenneth Rexroth from A Bestiary (1956)
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Self Love

Older woman

Who is lonely

And has no self love

Wants love

The old desert

Which is empty

And has no water

Wants water

Please clouds

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poem by Lonely People Champion
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I walked in a desert

I walked in a desert.
And I cried,
"Ah, God, take me from this place!"
A voice said, "It is no desert."
I cried, "Well, But --
The sand, the heat, the vacant horizon."
A voice said, "It is no desert."

poem by Stephen Crane
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An animal that gives birth to a young one in the desert must suckle it in the desert.

African proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Went Down into the Desert

I went down into the desert
To meet Elijah—
Arisen from the dead.
I thought to. find him in an echoing cave;
For so my dream had said.

I went down into the desert
To meet John the Baptist.
I walked with feet that bled,
Seeking that prophet lean and brown and bold.
I spied foul fiends instead.

I went down into the desert
To meet my God.
By him be comforted.
I went down into the desert
To meet my God.
And I met the devil in red.

I went down into the desert

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poem by Vachel Lindsay
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I loved all the love away

I loved all the love away
Left with mine prodigal hand
Mine heart through my fingers play
To soft white sensual sand
In a desert of sheer famine
Bereft of love and love's sea
I scavenge the ground and examine
The desert of what's left of me
Nothing but white sand and shore
Where the moon tide's waves
move rippled sand of desert galore
to taunt and with will depraves
The love I need, but shows the love I had
Lost in the desert delusional I'm utterly mad…

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Desert Wind

I went with happy heart (how happy!) a while since
Behind my camel flocks,
Piping all day where the Nile pastures end
And the white sand begins
Among the rocks.
The wheeling eagles mocked me high there from the skies,
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.

I saw a lady pass, (what lady?) none could tell,
Nor of her tribe nor race,
Of Roum or Franjistan or Fars or Hind;
None knew. But I knew well
That her sweet face
Had blossomed first within the gates of Paradise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.

Within a tasselled frame, rich wrought, she sat and sang
A song of love so sweet,

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poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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G3

outside it is wet.
inside is acrid.
at the inner side of things
deserts make more deserts
sands slip beneath our feet,
outside the rain sings
lots of denials,
hands imploring for more
acceptance
arms looking for an embrace
and the universe
spins some more
the threads of its messy
indifference.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lost legion for Friend Thad

The earth beneath the desert sun is baked to shades of brown and dun.
A sea of sand which ceaselessly moves with wind uneasily.
The land marks here are far and few but known by those belonging to the nomad bands who freely roam this sea of sand and call it home.
A people fierce and proud and free who guard their secrets ruthlessly.
Intruders are not welcome here; invaders simply disappear.
Their fate is very seldom known, the desert can protect its own
Whole Roman legions were erased their resting place cannot be traced.
The desert knows but will not speak some bones are found by those who seek
to solve the ancient mysteries. Perhaps rewrite the histories.
To validate their theories of how an army disappears.
without a clues as to their fate. A subject open to debate.

The desert sands move constantly, sometimes revealing teasingly
bleached bones and weapons on the sand which scholars strive to understand.
Does it matter anyway? Why do we seek to know today
what happened to the lost legion. Although the legend lingers on.
The desert will not satisfy our burning curiosity
The desert knows but will not share the scholars find this hard to bear.
The desert lands conceal with ease volumes of untold histories.
Which earnest scholars yearn to read, perhaps one day they will succeed.

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My Smile, Tears and Words

My smile is sunshine
My tears are rain of deserts
My words are world's winds

poem by Asif Andalib
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The Challenge

All alone in this armidillo desert...?
One cactus and a makeshift dusty road-
The sweltering heat plays tricks on my eyes...
Enter: Mirages of vast mesas covered in Gold;

Oh the rites of the deserts drum beats out to me...
As i enter someones land through a 'rusty' 'iron' gate-
Lo and behold, i find a delapidated farmhouse empty...
And as if into a downward spiral-i approach my fate! ! !

I am descending from the top of the mesa...
My body is laced in the deserts sands veil-
Dressed in rag-tag camoflouge glittering...
Not accepting the challenge: Of Mice and Men, i fail! ;

For what is it that is so special of Mice and Men?
That deciphers the muck for the Winning Crown?
Is it who can out last another in 'Extreme Conditions? ? ? '
With no answer forthcoming-alas, 'tis the armidillo desert, i am bound;

poem by Theodora Onken
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He is the best gentleman, who is the son of his own deserts.

Latin proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Desert Island

Cast away on a desert island
Me and poor crusoe are sharing the same fate
Cast away on a desert island
With great britain written on its name plate
With my umbrella I go walking
Through all the sands on a building site
Across the shopping malls and motorways
Birds from heathrow fill the
Night with people flying to escape
Friday comforts me and says its pay day
Cast away on a desert island . . .
The game and coconuts is plentiful
You pick em right off of a supermarket shelf
And all the man-eaters are parked away
Down in garages
While their selfish owners drinking to escape
Lord of flies with cocktails in his conch shell
Dont rescue me, no
This is my home sweet home dear
Dont rescue me, no

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song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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William Blake

He came to the desert of London town
Gray miles long;
He wandered up and he wandered down,
Singing a quiet song.

He came to the desert of London town,
Mirk miles broad;
He wandered up and he wandered down,
Ever alone with God.

There were thousands and thousands of human kind
In this desert of brick and stone;
But some were deaf and some were blind,
And he was there alone.

At length the good hour came; he died
As he had lived, alone.
He was not missed from the desert wide;
Perhaps he was found at the throne.

poem by James Thomson
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