An unstructured poem about the Silk Road...
12 days before our cycling adventure in China, my random thoughts:
On the Ancient Silk Road
Exotic goods, were carried between East and the West,
But more than goods,
Loaded Caravans, carried new IDEAS
And in its natural way,
Life, wove itself around the region...
A desert is not always barren,
It can be a fertile ground
For many stories and love affairs
Between tender people and colorful cultures...
Broken shards of stories I can pick up...
Passing whispers tell me,
Of the glowing desert....
Slow Caravans filled with the best of life's illusions...
Goods to tempt beautiful long haired women,
And hungry kings who yearns for ever more...
Soft fabrics have their own whisper.
They call for lovers to lay their naked bodies...
They beg to be felt... to enhance lovers sensual joy...
Oh human yearnings.....
They start in the mind and go downwards...
To the heart,
The stomach,
The hard penis
or throbbing wet vulva...
The feet that itch to travel...
I can see lovers saying their tear filled goodbyes,
As the boy join the last caravan and disappears into a dusty cloud.
She collapses on the coarse camel hair rug,
Too poor to afford the soft hand woven silk rug,
Made in intricate patterns of oriental flowers...
The wind carries the song of a neighboring woman...
She is singing a soft sad song,
About how hard it is to be a human...
Living along the Silk Road...
Where all the good things,
Pass you by...
Her voice lulls the exhausted girls to sleep...
She dreams of thieves and robbers
Who patiently awaits the loaded caravans.
The sky is inky dark,
The moon is nothing but a thin sliver,
Robbers clutch handmade weapons,
Their eyes darting like a nervous snake...
The wailing song continues...
She sings about Oriental Markets
And towns along the way...
About tall and temperamental camels,
About scented Leather goods
Shiny jewelry, and colored salts.
She sings about amazing “golden peaches”,
And rare white and yellow cherries,
That she yearns to taste...
She sings about pink juicy pomegranates
About woolen sheep,
And graceful swift-footed racing horses
The girl sleeps alone now,
For the journey takes two years or more.
In her sleep, she rubs the throbbing ache between her legs
Her wet pleasure center....
In her sleep,
She licks her lips....
As she get lost in her own ecstasy,
She dreams of sweet peaces and salt cured fish...
On the Ancient Silk Road
Exotic goods, were carried between East and the West,
But more than goods,
Loaded Caravans, carried new IDEAS
And in its natural way,
Life, wove itself around the region...
A desert is not always barren,
It can be a fertile ground
For many stories and love affairs
Between tender people and colorful cultures...
Broken shards of stories I can pick up...
Passing whispers tell me,
Of the glowing desert....
Slow Caravans filled with the best of life's illusions...
Goods to tempt beautiful long haired women,
And hungry kings who yearns for ever more...
Soft fabrics have their own whisper.
They call for lovers to lay their naked bodies...
They beg to be felt... to enhance lovers sensual joy...
Oh human yearnings.....
They start in the mind and go downwards...
To the heart,
The stomach,
The hard penis
or throbbing wet vulva...
The feet that itch to travel...
I can see lovers saying their tear filled goodbyes,
As the boy join the last caravan and disappears into a dusty cloud.
She collapses on the coarse camel hair rug,
Too poor to afford the soft hand woven silk rug,
Made in intricate patterns of oriental flowers...
The wind carries the song of a neighboring woman...
She is singing a soft sad song,
About how hard it is to be a human...
Living along the Silk Road...
Where all the good things,
Pass you by...
Her voice lulls the exhausted girls to sleep...
She dreams of thieves and robbers
Who patiently awaits the loaded caravans.
The sky is inky dark,
The moon is nothing but a thin sliver,
Robbers clutch handmade weapons,
Their eyes darting like a nervous snake...
The wailing song continues...
She sings about Oriental Markets
And towns along the way...
About tall and temperamental camels,
About scented Leather goods
Shiny jewelry, and colored salts.
She sings about amazing “golden peaches”,
And rare white and yellow cherries,
That she yearns to taste...
She sings about pink juicy pomegranates
About woolen sheep,
And graceful swift-footed racing horses
The girl sleeps alone now,
For the journey takes two years or more.
In her sleep, she rubs the throbbing ache between her legs
Her wet pleasure center....
In her sleep,
She licks her lips....
As she get lost in her own ecstasy,
She dreams of sweet peaces and salt cured fish...
