Long Arabian Poems
Long Arabian Poems. Below are the most popular long Arabian by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Arabian poems by poem length and keyword.
oh …
how I’ve dreamed of you -
sultry mistress to the sun's ire …
dappled and coy amid the palms, a-sway
your eyes of the gloaming’s
vault shimmering with the Milky Way …
Luna, red as rouge to
blush your cheek of sacred sand -
dune drifts, the waves of
your golden tresses …
you …
a flawless gem, shimmering
cut and polished with care and perfection to
sunder the sunlight into rainbows -
to focus the best energies and
acumen of humankind
and seed an oasis orchid with a
bloom, exquisite and rare …
oh proud are you
jumeirah, jadhab and mutheer ...
soon and sure
we shall woo each other -
you, Princess of the Arabian Desert
me, fool for your fevered wiles
tempted from afar …
you, immodest and lush
with such lavish loins of excess
arms of extravagance, beckoning me
decadent, seductive …
warm, endless summer night
whispering fancies …
take good care, my heart
the soft echos of its dire drumming have
yet returned from the firmament
final pulses not abounding ...
but the rhythm it
hereafter composes is graciously
sacrificed for your admiration …
offered up to your dream -
sweet song of your gilded breeze …
the aria of my tawny, torrid temptress ...
DUBAI.
~ For His Highness Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum and the people of Dubai ~
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, June 21, 2017
* this is a form I created called “Deductiva” *
* For His Highness Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum *
oh …
how I’ve dreamed of you -
sultry mistress to the sun's ire …
dappled and coy amid the palms, a-sway
your eyes of the gloaming’s
vault shimmering with the Milky Way …
Luna, red as rouge to
blush your cheek of sacred sand
dune drifts, the waves of
your golden tresses …
you …
a flawless gem, shimmering
cut and polished with care and perfection to
sunder the sunlight into rainbows -
to focus the best energies and
acumen of humankind
and seed an oasis orchid with a
bloom, exquisite and rare …
oh proud are you
jumeirah, jadhab and mutheer ...
soon and sure
we shall woo each other -
you, Princess of the Arabian Desert
me, fool for your fevered wiles
tempted from afar …
you, immodest and lush
with such lavish loins of excess
arms of extravagance, beckoning me
decadent, seductive …
warm, endless summer night
whispering fancies …
take good care, my heart
the soft echos of its dire drumming have
yet returned from the firmament
final pulses not abounding ...
but the rhythm it
hereafter composes is graciously
sacrificed for your admiration …
offered up to your dream -
sweet song of your gilded breeze …
the aria of my tawny, torrid temptress ...
DUBAI!
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Foreign Travel" Poetry Contest, Thvia Shetley, Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Landscapes Poetry Contest", Kim Rodrigues, Sponsor.
~ 6th Place ~ in the "Exotic Poetry Contest", Debbie Guzzi, Sponsor.
From a wide square with an ancient marble fountain,
which borrowed its fresh water
from a nearby, pristine river;
I looked far away...to fix my glance on
the Norman fortress rising on the top
of a barren and steep hill,
that the Normans built to keep off
the invaders with fast horses and sharp swords!
And beneath those strong walls,
I lay down tracing them back to medieval times;
and as the noon grew warmer, I fell asleep
drifting into a past ,which made many fret and weep!
I wanted to hear tales of bravery, how the knights
fought their battles to guard against dire;
and their fortress they fiercely defended,
until the verdant grass was saturated with blood!
Galloping on my agile Arabian horse, with glistening
armor and drawn sword...I heard the laments of the wounded,
fearless as a voracious lion catching his prey,
I entered the battlefield that loudly clanked;
and everywhere there were prostate bodies on the morbid ground,
and I, in mortal terror, couldn't turn back and not face the enemy!
It could have taken a fatal moment for me to have died...
not returning to the people I had left behind!
As a true knight: I had to honor my pledge,
and through pain and ordeal I had to kill to stay alive;
when the battle ended, I headed back to the Norman fortress!
Awakening from that vision, brazing out fear...
I realized how real that could have been;
and its brief duration made me much courageous,
but somewhat deeply mournful...
to have seen so much blood and grief!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
A variety of fine brushes…thin, medium, wide,
soft and smooth... to paint landscapes - sky, ocean, tree,
at tranquil dawn, my backyard turns into an oasis,
A transient escape for peace, sanctuary for me!
Focused on visual delight, savour sublimity!
umbrella-like willow, lush leaves offering shade,
dainty roses bloom, elegant hydrangea smiles,
playful birds chirp, frisky squirrels run, until daylight fade!
Sky often mesmerizing vermillion at quiet dawn,
sun rises, waking up the world, with glorious light
bees frolic, pretty butterflies kiss ravishing flowers,
I get lost in the allure of a captivating sight!
My blank canvases get covered with gorgeous paints,
I dip and glide my brush, whimsical colours I splash in,
sunset at Arabian Sea, sunrise on Himalayas,
create amazing views even where I had never been!
Poetry, cascading fountain of our soul, paints life with words,
Painters, sparked by imagination, borrow colours from Nature,
Depict the surreal universe with unique perspectives,
Poetry and Art… blend, connect, compensate each other.
Harvey Denning
1909 – 1923
“I saw the universe a thousand times.”
I saw the face of God
Spread out across the sky
Like a million cities on fire.
Like Troy cut into little pieces
By the slashing sword of Achilles.
Cut to shreds and bleeding.
There on the ramparts
There inside the fissures and crevices
Of ten thousand unknown dreams.
I read the stories of Homer
And the tales of a thousand and one Arabian nights.
And I read the solemnly immortal words
Of Longfellow, Poe and Defoe.
And I decided inside my mind long before I died
To perhaps write the greatest story ever told.
But I fell from my tree house
There on Dorland Street
There in the cool shadows of the walnut tree.
What would have been my story I wonder.
What visions would I have conjured
For all to read and envision?
My friend, will you write my story now?
Will you take pen in hand and possess my voice?
Will you find the noble courage to speak for me?
This forgotten dead soul
Buried here in the dark dust of Clark Cemetery?
If you kindly consent,
Please begin it with these words:
“I saw the universe a thousand times.”
Beautiful gypsy riding in a caravan
With a black mongrel and an old man
In the cold winter
Off to a world
That is new
And yet unknown
To a place that she will make her own
Across the dusty Arabian sands
With a glowing crystal ball in her hands
Armed with magical spells
And Voodoo like bells
Educated in the art of healing
With herbal roots
And exotic fruits
Robed in her long black tunic
And her big black boots
Her thick black hair
Raven black
Engulfs her pretty little face
Ravishing beauty
That turns heads in every little place
What will the future hold?
As they seek great fortune
Happiness and gold
Across the fields
They watch
Horse riding
Over the snow flakes
And across the hilly villages
Off to the city in the north
Where the Great robber pillages
Beautiful gypsy riding in her caravan
She arrives in a strange land
And meets a crowd of people
Shouting from a steeple
Go back! Go back!
But a preachers offer water
And asked the old man
Is this your daughter?
Beautiful gypsy riding in her caravan
Found a home to stay
She went down on her knees
To pray
She is too far from home any way
"What should I say of the waters that touch the peoples and cultures of the east, west, north, and south!" - By Poet.
The Earth's Oceans Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by: Constance La France.
Three seas converge in my homeland.
Arabian Sea with her waters, grand
Hugs the Bay of Bengal with endless waves breaking
With flora, fauna, and fine sand
Like the heavens and cosmos, they expand.
With jingles and pitter-patters
With them the Indian Ocean chatters.
Every brook, creek, stream, and river merrymaking
With whirlpools and water splatters
Every barrier within them shatters.
Islands that are warm, clean, and green
Fish, pearls, and coral reefs are clearly seen.
White-sand beaches and turquoise water-furls snaking
Waves stand as though frills of silkscreen.
Charming, she looks like a queen so serene.
As though a divine sovereign
In Kanyakumari—Cape Comorin
Has this ocean found a place of awakening?
In Swami Vivekanand's shrine
The Indian Ocean forms its design.
Shifting Sands, ( A Collaboration Constance ~Rambling Poet )
by~ CONSTANCE
And in this dream . . . I am lost in endless sand . . .
Where clouds rise and disappear
A land of shifting and sultry heat
Where the ground ripples like waves at sea . . .
Magical, mysterious and mirage filled
It stretches to the horizon and beyond
The wind blows my white gown like wings
My veil falls to reveal long black hair, billowing . . .
I watch him coming over the yellow sand
His Arabian horse galloping . . .
I am breathless with my love for him
No sound can be heard but that wind thundering
And the sand shifting . . .
Part 2
And in this dream .. . I am, still lost, in endless sand . . .
Falling, endlessly
Into his Arabian eyes, I float
My feet interlocking with the shifting sand
This dream, I managed to catch
From the dream catcher's arms . . .
I wrap myself, in a blanket of yellow sand
Refusing, to open my eyelids
To the Universal Consciousness of morning light . . .
I swim the river, I sink in the quick sand
I hold on tight to this mirage
A place where, I create
Whatever future and destiny, I desire . . .
In this dream, I walk across the sands
In the dead of night
I am here, my mind, so far, lost .
Counting every breath, I reach out to touch his hand . . .
We gallop across the shifting sands
Nestled beside him, my head pressed against his chest
In this dream, my eyes are closed tight
I only see the shifting horizon, over and over
A million times and a million times, again
A Collaboration with *Constance A Rambling Poet
~MY COLLABORATION CONTEST~
Despoiled of raiment green, each branch in nakedness now stands forlorn;
Unmoved by passing seasons’ change, the songster sits and sings alone:
Would there were in this garden some could feel the burden of its moan!
This life no more its joy retains, nor even death can bring relief;
‘Tis sweet to sit alone and sigh and eat a sad heart out in grief.
Out from the mirror of my soul‘what gems of thought now strive to shine;
What visions splendid, dreams sublime,
Arise within this breast of mine! but in this garden lives not one to see and hear, to feel and know:
No tulip with its streak of pain, to sense my heart-blood’s smarting flow.
May this sad bulbuls lonely song to grief each listening soul awake;
The clangour of these rousing bells make drowsy hearts their sleep forsake!
Let Faithful hearts re-plight their troth, and forge afresh their bond Divine;
Let in the long-parched heart of each the old thirst wake for sweet old wine!
The blood of sweet Arabian vine Overflows this wine-jar Ajamy,
Although the singer sings in India having Hijaz is his melody.
Kalam e Iqbal Poem Shikwa,The Complaint of Pious Muslim tO Allah in decent manner.
And it is well Translated By Aliza Kashmala Kiran (Famous English Voluntary Poetess of Pakistan & Best Social Writer).
He came riding thru the south wind
An Arabian so white and so pure
Rich mystery and wildness in him seem combined
His ancient eyes held a magical lure
A bond of trust, so strong, so rare
I shared with this desert wanderer
He was an answer to my humble prayer
An able partner to this adventurer
He flew without wings on this hot land
Talking with spirits all around
His own master, under his own command
The mark on his head glistened like a crown
Prophets and seers on this ancient breed did ride
An honour to be chosen by this revered guide
For Sara Kendrick’s contest ‘Sonnet Me’