Another poem

[redsea]

On the path there once I traveled
made of Arab sand,
A thirst that was quenched by knowledge once
estranged by the Lords hand.

I came upon a spot to lie
within some cooling shade.
The source of which I could not see;
it did not seem to fade.

Once that I had drunk my fill
of that shadowy spot of land,
my travels began, again, again,
on that path of Arab sand.

What pool of water lay within
this deserts hot embrace?
I could not think of that too long
at once I made my haste.

As I came upon the pool,
it did not vanish yet!
A gypsy in its waters bathed
at once our eyes had met.

That water dropping from her eyes!
Confusion met my mind.
Are they water droplets I see
or the product of another kind?

Her beauty, I say, had quenched my thirst,
her body, my appetite;
and now she stood in front of me,
I dare say in plain sight.

Sing to me, I say you gypsy
in this silent land!
Dance for me, I say you gypsy
on this Arab sand!

Comments and suggestions welcome!

[Fission]

stop calling me a gypsy

[redsea]

Originally Posted by Fission

stop calling me a gypsy

But i wrote this for you

[V-Ormix]

Man what else can we thirst, that in itself I thirst as knowledge. But your interpretation of a camel must be golden o:

[redsea]

Originally Posted by V-Ormix

Man what else can we thirst, that in itself I thirst as knowledge. But your interpretation of a camel must be golden o:

There are some things that prevent you from continuing a search for knowledge. The reason is very specific for me [and so is the setting that I chose to represent this struggle], but this interpretation is not the only one that exists for this poem. I love to see others' interpretations of my poetry.

Edit: Maybe ill write you a poem about a camel tomorrow.



Humpday

[V-Ormix]

Originally Posted by redsea

There are some things that prevent you from continuing a search for knowledge. The reason is very specific for me [and so is the setting that I chose to represent this struggle], but this interpretation is not the only one that exists for this poem. I love to see others' interpretations of my poetry.

Edit: Maybe ill write you a poem about a camel tomorrow.



Humpday

Insane, I'd enjoy that, and thank you. Yeah I myself don't think you'd consider me a poet to the core although that's not to say I don't try to use words at times with a poetic intention. I more or less like to write monologs and what I consider a play on words in various and experimental combinations. I love expression of detail in a format like yours that makes you think as if you were there people who cant appreciate poetry of any form don't know what there missing, of course to each there own.

[redsea]

I 100% agree with you. The ability to appreciate language is one that is profound, yet, innate. You don't have to be able to analyze or even know what a poem is talking about to appreciate it. Btw, I am no professional writer, I just love to write on my free time. Also, if you write poetry, you are a poet; hell, even if you speak poetically, you are a poet. I believe that poetry is found in daily speech.

[WindowsME]

Originally Posted by redsea

That water dropping from her eyes!
Confusion met my mind.
Are they water droplets I see
or the product of another kind?

I don't see where this verse quite fits in with the rest of the poem as a whole. The characters confusion lies on the "water from her eyes". So, is his interest in what this material could possibly be due to his quest for knowledge, or is it that he has an interest in her directly? Whats his angle at this point?