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Click hereAuthor’s Note: Always thirsting for change, a try at Haiku.
Quiet, the Negev waits
The sand thirsts for blood to come
Tanks, men, planes … all frail
Soldiers called, love stays
Goodbyes not said, lives on hold
One man, one woman
Love is shared, him, her
Face the demons, ready war
Peace is sought, not found
Her body too hot
Skin shimmering, wet with sweat
Orgasm fading
Tall, thin, long red hair
Breasts plump, hips wide, nose too short
Alluring, sated
Body now relaxed
Legs akimbo, sheets tangled
His Rose of Sharon
But duty calls him
To bitter sands far away
Death waits and hell lurks
They loved, time too short
Their passion spent, ended now
War, the grim reaper
Having just returned from the area not too far from the desert this poem depicts, some stirred emotions were only to be expected. It takes some courage to choose locals and event which stay away from the main stream of the Anglo-North American cultural Milieu. Yet, despite some who still may think otherwise the human condition IS similar, and getting to know each other beyond the geographical and the cultural bounds could have been one of the great things that people on the grass root level be doing over the internet. Still, people seem to stick to the familiar and it’s a crying shame. <P>
The Negev is one of those areas which could go either way, nurture it and it thrives even with its scarce water and resources leave it or worse – turn it to jumping board to endless wars, and it turns into mostly empty semi arid space. <P>
Mix the modern metaphor of the Negev with the Biblical Rose of Sharon straight from Psalms, a great promise for great love (‘I am the rose of Sharon –like a rose among the thorns - so am I among the women’) – it may sound almost mythological. Stay one week in the area and you learn that it’s not, Maybe writing poems turns into the ultimate form of eulogizing for the losses both in life and in promises. Maybe this poem is not only about far away lands.