Recently, some people who haven’t been involved with me in relation to school, have wanted to read my writing. I am not quick to let anyone read my fiction or non -, but my poetry, well, I am ok sharing a few. So I thought I’d post one of my favorite poems here. And I apologize for the disclaimer but it’s just a thing. (Don’t be an asshole – don’t steal this work. It isn’t yours) [also, sorry for the big-ass double spacing]
We are nomads, wanderers, jockeying camels
across sand blown dunes, our brightly dyed
robes flopping around the Bactrian’s haunches,
stirring up cultures of yogurt in our gourd saddlebags.
We are not royalty, oh no, far from it.
Yet I obey the rules of the ninth lunar month,
eating only oranges, small red beans, sugar and bream
If indeed we were nomads an orange glow sun would dip
below the mirage of horizon as we tie up at the Khara-hot
bazaar to buy a goat and trade hides for food.
We would yearn to settle our tent city, set down stakes of permanence
and make Ulaanbaatar steadfast. Here in the land of the blue sky, Mongolia, we
are the astronomers, the star warriors of the dunes. We are the thinkers, free
to roam the steppe and the wastelands, ever searching for the perfect
piece of land to lay the first stone of foundation.