This Poem was Submitted By: Regis L Chapman On Date: 2008-05-09 16:38:15 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Desert Walker

aspirant, walk into the desert sands famous fasters tracked East, the same walk, unseen and unknown name into the place so many have been stains of salt form the words of talks in the mouth of yonder dune's grace whose letters cut unseen they said such syllables failed a flag unfurled in blame a whitened wisdom with no place walk now, build the callous sing the rhythm of your pain senses attacked and absorbed, apparently vain and we all chorus along a deep and deadly song step step step gained away away away from the palace their presence a hut no see no say no night no day let the wind cut let the wind blow walk until the callous fades and the skin peels and flies off in a sand whirl which leaves no trace see how it feels pain in all it's shades walk still young man walk on little girl feel your legs tire feel the greater mind perspire in the heat it's the sun of masters past striding exactly in your next footfall can you follow the path the trackless band the music of your ceaseless strain with all this an ease abides under the line you follow in this liquid becoming a pilot of constant consciousness tracing winds to the course all unknown unborn ungrown known what moves you now? the last, the least open the borrowed mouth taste the silence dry relenting to lick the lips a sudden snack a feast nodded at by the North sky orange ball sown to the South burn burn burn skin torn, with one's own fingertips silver shimmering gleams in lands so declared a volunteer in the bitter schemes survived here now on bloodied knees the now rounded rock in moistening air thicker smells poised to stare austerity at last renowned arrived enough wind for a million sails dreams of another step another time an arm reaches out to touch a bough of a tree on the horizon seems a hundred bosoms, a hundred wines in tiny hands so fair welcome back almost lost you, you know? mind at last prepared masters of meaning found contrived, mile by mile you, in their ruinous care and on the track we, a breeze of dust surround walk with a cracked smile deep as dunes old as ruins in the open air

Copyright © May 2008 Regis L Chapman

Additional Notes:
Only in retrospect, reading this before I posted it, did I realize to what extent this could be seen as a political poem against the attitudes of people in the Middle East and even our own initiatives there. This is not at all the case. Look deeper. It's the lonely journey of the spiritual wo/man which is dry as dust and done because one must. The juice of life comes at last to h/er/im. And Led Zeppelin.


This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2008-06-04 14:25:37
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
Regis, I have read this several times, can find no nit. For me this is a very personal journey, one of introspection, a quest for one's spirituality, an understanding of what is, what will be, a union of continuity...the ebb and flow of all life forces that must be in harmony, celestial perfection... I admire your ability to put into words things such as this, to give them a cohesion that is understandable even on a bass level if one chooses to look within. Your word choices create brilliant mental images, and I am there; in the moment. This was such a fresh breath for this reader and I humbly thank you for posting this. Mizpah, Lora


This Poem was Critiqued By: Terrye Godown On Date: 2008-06-03 10:41:02
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Funny your should write that about one taking this poem in a "political" perspective - Perhaps with the current fiasco in both parties escalating into this election year, that's exactly how I saw it. Huddled American masses in a desert (probably in Mexico): all unknown unborn ungrown known (alias: socialists) what moves you now? (yep, no true leaders to behold) the last, the least (the American people) open the borrowed mouth (Barrack) taste the silence dry (McCain) relenting to lick the lips (Hillary) a sudden snack (victims of the republican party) a feast (victims of the liberals) nodded at by the North sky (the Clintons last ditch efforts) orange ball sown to the South (Al Gore's global warming scam) burn burn burn (our certain demise) Of course the above lines are just one example but I saw this as quite prophetic Regis, whether you intended it or not! Terrye
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2008-05-25 15:36:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Regis, I think you need to break this down into stanzas. It's too long without a break. And you must always remember the reader and sometime clarify your point to a degree. I think you've much to say, just drive your point home. Your heart sings as a poet, just simplicity would help me. Thanks Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2008-05-14 08:28:59
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
The title alone brought me on the beginning of a spiritual journey and the words penned brought it all to life. To some it may seem rather long yet to this reader the words just continued to flow.....bringing to light whatever thoughts and feelings that one may associate with it and I am certain each reader will have perhaps some difference in their thoughts. Life is a journey we travel on every day and no road is filled with signs to let us know which may be the easier way to follow. Thanks for posting, as always, good job.....God Bless, Claire
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