Best Wadi Poems


Tenement Tombs

. for public domain

Every crack in the ceiling,
dries up every river of dreams.
When idle eyes can't view their skies,
wadi minds flood over with schemes.

And every hole in the floors
becomes a bottomless well,
where loveless hearts go wishless,
dry up in a dusty old hell.

The mission bells may toll and toll,
but our dungeons, they fill and fill.
Sweet flowers off the garden path,
wither away for want of will.
Categories: wadi, poverty,
Form: Free verse

The Daredevil Rescue

Stranded in war torn Sudan, 
Dreading yet another dawn. 
In Wadi Sayyidna town,
Hopelessness was weighing down.

Men and women, young and old, 
Watched the civil war unfold.
Homeless, desperate, full of  fear, 
Longing for their near and dear. 

Then on 27th April night,
A C-130J took flight. 
Manned by pilots skilled and brave, 
Tasked to rescue and to save.

They were flying almost blind, 
No navigation aids would they find.
Degraded strip, no landing lights
In the darkness of the night. 

Infrared sensors scanned the ground;
No inimical force was found.
Using goggles for night vision,
Thay carried out their tough mission. 

An enthralling tale had begun;
Six score passengers and one 
Shepherded onto the plane.
Headed for their homes again.

Valor of the highest kind,
Audacity was redefined. 
The Hercules and its brave crew
Achieved a feat of derring-do.

India's vaunted military might, 
Wrote another chapter bright
In our valiant history;
There for all the world to see. 

Written by Colonel Ramanan Duraiswami 
AMC,Rtd 
29th April 2023.
Categories: wadi, military,
Form: Rhyme

Jordanian Itinerancy

Across lands of streets, stone and desert
A breeze in a waltz for trees to avert,

I flow with the freedom of a river in a bay
Across mountains and winds with passion I sway

From the historical Petra, upon the purity of its sands
To the salty waters of the Dead Sea, prosperity in hands

At height upon its mountains, O’ Allah I pray
Embellished with the sunset of Wadi Rum, nature sleeps to allay

I mosey upon its Rabyeh streets, accompanied by its tender gust
I inhale the freshness of its varying cuisine, filled with utter lust

Gazing at its marvel in a background of family mirth
Across my Grand Ma’s balcony, Jordan fills the earth
Categories: wadi, adventure, family, happiness, lifeallah,
Form: Couplet

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Universal Soldier

Lay me to rest in marbled halls with angels at my head,
not lying here in the mud of Ypres with khaki turning red.
Let me die a noble death, one that's worth fighting for,
not to avenge a nobleman who I've never heard of before.

Let me die an old man's death, in my bed at the witching hour
and laid to rest in an old churchyard, 'neath a yew trees spreading bower.
Instead of a fox hole in Cairo, choking on blood and sand,
with the smell of cordite on the air and a letter from home in my hand.

Why am I here in North Korea defending a hill to the death?
When I should be with the kids at home and my darling sweetheart, Beth.
Instead of which I lie in this ditch watching my life seep away
and they'll bury me here in an unmarked grave, on this bloody hill far away.

What do I care if Saigon falls? North or South, nothing mattered,
what do I care for the Rouge Khmer when my body lies here, shattered.
My watery grave this killing field, fertiliser for next years crop.
Is this to be my legacy? Please God help to make it all stop!

Another year, yet other wars, in landscapes barren and hostile,
on a crusade in Iraq or Afghan, both situations are volatile.
My life cut short by an IED defending a wadi in Tikrit,
my sun bleached bones, washed by the desert, my ultimate Kismet.

And still the Hawks harry the Doves, favouring might over right,
no matter the religion, the creed or the colour, be they black or white.
The body bags mount, the widows wail and children are orphaned once more,
all in the name of the most profitable business on Earth which we call war.
© John Jones  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wadi, anger, humanity, remembrance day,
Form: Rhyme

Arabian Paradise

Maa’mool winds wash over me
In antique moonlight I merge with the spirit of Wadi Shab
Following the worn paths through the orchards
To discover the hidden mysteries of Mibam
Commonplace melodies of the qanun and maqrum
Become new again passing my ears
Dancing sweet Arabia off the ancient walls
A midnight song of prayer sung to no one and everyone
A resonate stone rippling my very soul
Looking skyward the heavens reveal
Familiar skies of the desert navigators
A tapestry of moments past, now, and eternity
Yet only for myself
These small memories I forever commit
As I swim in the sweet pools of Wadi Shab
Gazing high into the desert night
To the waning Arabian moon
While maa’mool winds wash over me




NOTE:
Maa'mool is a sweet Middle Eastrern incense
Wadi Shab is a beautiful paradise like place outside of the ancient city of Mibam
A Qanun and a Maqrun are Arabian instruments, one is a "double clarinet" the 
other is a stringed instrument.
Categories: wadi, imagination, inspirational, life, nature,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Hay Day

Hay Day

June day, perfect day for turning hay fields,
A great day for it, happiness it yields.

Oh for product the cattle need to be nourished,
But a lasting memory that's forever cherished.

I scurry to the tractor with Dad the driver,
A bottle of Mi-Wadi the sweet provider.

Pacing through the land, hay fluffy in rows,
Excitement grows, through the land we bulldoze.

Dad chirps, "are you alright back there Jim?",
I shout "of course", Dad sings a country hymn.

Me and my Dad were happy and care-free,
Together alone, as simple as abc.
Categories: wadi, childhood, dad, father, father
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Battle of Beersheba

                         I
“Charge!” they said and charge they led
      from out of a dry desert wadi.
 Every man of the Light Horse Brigade
   across the desert thundered -
 their pulsing veins, their loosened reins,
   toward the wells of Beersheba
   rode the brave eight hundred!
                         II
 In gallop stride they fought and died
      on mighty Walers champing.
 Every man in the Light Horse Regiment
   faced a foe greater numbered -
 with rifles cocked, their bayonets locked,
   onward the wells of Beersheba
   rode the brave eight hundred!
                         III
 Again and again the Lighthorsemen
      the Turkish lines outflanked.
 Every man of the Expeditionary Force
   of horse and rider wondered -
 their squadron raid, in great crusade,
   forward the wells of Beersheba
   rode the brave eight hundred!
                         IV
 And across the sands into their hands
      the Ottoman guns fell silent.
 Every man in the Desert Mounted Corps
   the battle trenches plundered -
 with martial force, on valiant horse,
   further the wells of Beersheba
   rode the brave eight hundred!
                         V
 With God they rode and victory owed
      with emu plumes in their hats.
 Every man of the Light Mounted Infantry
   sat his saddle or lay sundered -
 like Gideon of old, their trusty fold,
   beyond the wells of Beersheba
   rode the brave eight hundred!
                         VI
 On horizon’s red light an heroic sight
      in clouds of smoke and dust.
“Charge!” they said and charge they led
   when enemy lines blundered.
 The legend tells of Beersheba’s wells,
   how the march on Jerusalem 
   to glory led all eight hundred!


      Written: November 2010
Categories: wadi, courage, history, war,
Form: Narrative

Traces

The love that ends leaves traces, why not? 
Even in the great desert, Troy, Samothrace,
On hot sand and mint tea, see it
On the blue oranges, on the green moon,

Love leaves traces in the eyes, traces
Even in the streets of Manhattan,
He leaves traces in the worried coaches, see it
Among the camels in the Wadi Rum,

The love that ends leaves traces, why Not?
Caramel, marshmallow or chance, see it
Even in the Pacific Ocean, “help” trees cry out  
In the Laotian Islands, even in Honolulu, We see it.
Categories: wadi, appreciation, blue, confidence,
Form: Quatrain

Water

I watched the raindrops 
one by one they fell
they filled an empty hole
till it became a well
 
every word of yours is dew
like this rain I seek
the hole here large and empty
for a cistern of waters keep
 
Within I hold these waters
as a gift for you
the life within a garden
cannot without them do
 
The moisture collects in clouds and wind
their circuits round the earth each day
their routes can now be firmly mapped
its requirements to life portray 
 
The bounties hidden in a desert
you won't ever see in bloom
until the rain its torrents fall
saturates the seeds entombed
 
Your words are livings waters
they must fall upon the seed
they cannot germinate or grow
they require this moistures deed
 
Mankind's become a desert place
where scorpions and snakes do dwell
life here is with the cold blooded
from the rainforest they have fell
 
Comprehensive examples  have been left
in all nature and histories show
a better teacher than science books
if we observe what's here to know
 
The fabric of all of life
holds me like a wadi tell
like an archeologist
who digs the sands and dell
 
These nations want gold and silver
but true riches they despise
in the end pursuits of vanity
will damn those who think they're wise
 
Once again you refreshed my mind
when I thought my well be dry
the waters here clean and clear
not bottled with a lie
 
 
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Categories: wadi, devotion, faith, food, health,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Bedouin Eyes - With Apologies To Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov

I bought a fine-bred stallion for a thousand dinars
And navigate the wadi by the light of the stars,
Oasis to oasis as the desert bird flies,
Enchanted by the beauty of your Bedouin eyes.

Though bandits and siroccos seek to test my resolve,
I’ll brave them all regardless of the risks they involve.
I’ve sworn an oath to face whatever dangers arise
And overcome them all to see your Bedouin eyes.

Last night I scaled the ramparts of the sultan’s abode
Where you were wearing nothing but a long flowing robe.
The folds of my kaffiya kept my face in disguise,
But she could see right through me with your Bedouin eyes.
Categories: wadi, arabic, beauty,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Calm Bomb

We thought the morning would be calm ~
Till daughter deployed the grandkid bomb.

The youngest makes a Wookiee noise,
And other sounds enjoyed by boys.

Greta's playing the matching game;
The floor: uncluttered before she came.

The oldest bikes through the garage;
Both it and he will soon need triage.

One's running, screaming, wants her "wadi",
And spending time on the potty.

But, midst the chaos and the mess,
I must admit that I'm pretty blessed.
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wadi, grandchild,
Form: Crystalline

Poetry Wadi

Will the well run dry
This think and feel flow?

Or maybe there's an alchemy down here
Catalytically constructing stanzas
Like spiders to kill prey weave webs...

A little spit - that's all it takes
Voila!  Another catching verse
But is it too terse
Too trite too cliche?

Touche!  A score to the heart
With the epistemological epee
Evoking lovers truths
And could-be living issues.

Is this water fresh?
Come, make us an oasis
Where camel-backed readerettes
Store up their own ponderings greening

'gainst east-winded wanderings driving
A dry thirst through deserts without
Wellsprings of a wet word heard
By travel-wearied women.

And this poetry wadi...
A mirage maybe merely
But perhaps only mostly
Deep weeps of mad me.
Categories: wadi, allegory, art, imagination, on
Form: Free verse

Gambol On the Rain If Been

Days, goes, in day another days, strawberry, spirit, to honour
Ignite old tyres, that is, choke in lung, keep in the mouth your water “ I don’t know” 
Apologetic orchid, which grow up on the tree
Legs have split the steel, oh my God – robot, woman with silencer
Spray  hell’s fire some of back , to see, “ Yaydama haytopepabawa---
Aiwa wadi maharsamanaw” forever, on the table, 
gold wedding invitation card with embossed print
Run on microscope, said smooth, but quickly spread the symbol, look at
Stars, magnetic compasses, come back or abandon from North, traditional song of captain
Pass the mountain, kiss which be out of breath the suffering, “ my whiskey” ,
 at the hospital, cemetery, been prohibited drug, universe, teller about truth, thi’ sa
To sold however price , my foolish, check out , had back wear the shirt, fresh space, blue God,
Tattoo of your hand, breath invited grumble wind, darkness, “ stop stop” here, 
stop until ending loudly
Don’t know do painting come out from blood, if know, 
new train of death soul, Art lead to the freedom    


Thwelt Di Nwe
Categories: wadi, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form: Free verse

Like Rivers Flow

Like rivers flow, with sounds so joyful
Giving life where’er they go
Like cleansing streams, forever faithful
Never stopping in their flow

So constant is His grace and peace
So faithful His deliverance
His living waters never cease
Wherein we find our sustenance

Like rivers flowing toward the ocean
Down the mountains to the sea
Like ocean boundaries He has chosen
Stand secure eternally

So shall the remnant of His nation
Come to claim their lot, their land
Each man unto his own possession
Boundaries fashioned by His hand

Like rivers overwhelm a wadi
Rushing through a wilderness
A gift of life for everybody
Bringing growth and fruitfulness

Thus every tribe will flow to Zion
Run to Yahweh, learn His ways
There He shall reign, as Judah’s Lion
As the nations give Him praise

Then wastelands will become like Eden
When the Spirit’s pow’r is poured
Then Zion’s sins shall be forgiven
Judah’s cities be restored

**********
Relevant Scriptures:
Psalm 104:8+9, 126:4
Isaiah 2:2, 32:15, 66:12
Ezekiel 36:35-38
Categories: wadi, god, water,
Form: Rhyme

My Africa

My Serengeti

I have neglected to visit my “Africa”, the flatland between
two hills that appear like a young mother`s breasts.
I know the trees and bushes, used to drive there to say hello.
Time changes I have no motorbike.
On the road driving to the shop, I can see the valley, yellow digger
And blue tractors near the wadi where I once saw a brown crocodile 
waiting for rain.
Once I saw a tiger leisurely walking across the lane.
A hyena laughed and said it was not here.
They are building a new Algarve type village with swimming pools
and an ambitious golf course.
But not for you and me.
No, I will not look at how work progress let my dream be intact.
But I do wish a tsunami would come and wash it all away.
Alas, nothing stays the same like the olive tree at the entrance of my driveway.
I have lost my kaleidoscope
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: wadi, absence, africa,
Form: Blank verse
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