Your eyes, an oasis, daring me to write cliche poem after cliche poem but I stare them down in resistance, determined. I will not. You will not turn me into a traveler / weeping at the sight of you. I will not draw the demarcations of your cheekbones against the sand, hills sweeping into shallow pools that I crouch down to peer inside–catch my own reflection, brutal / and awakening.
my mind is an oasis
a half memories gap
in the sadness i’ve been provided with
why not
as if
it’s just a laugh, isn’t it?
i read so many books
now i’m just an illiterate fuck
why isn’t there more places for me
why can’t there be
more alliteration for me
illerate and unhappy
oasis can’t wait to be
something you can’t feel
but you always see
matt m
Is that ISIS or oasis? Such polar opposites. My daughter is my oasis. My grandson is my oasis. My granddaughter is my oasis. My writing is my oasis. My good friends are my oasis. I’ve just never seen an oasis in the desert. I would like to live in one. For a New York minute. Oh, I think I do live in one. Hawaii. Surprise. They can get quite boring.
Joanna Bressler
After many weeks in the searing dry heat, uptop creatures he feared the most, they came to a small watering hole where shade came down in shelter. Without it, his last few months would have been much shorter.
the oasis shimmered with sunlight and mystery. She approached with awe and relief. when she kneeled at the water, realized that small fish were flourishing here.
Syana Costt
a place of peace containing water wind a beautiful place a place of rest harmony love enjoyment a place to find God
Andrea
She closed her eyes and she was there, in paradise. But it didn’t look like other people’s paradise might. Her’s was a small apartment on the second floor of a Chicago high-rise, clothes strewn on the floor, and his fingers playing along the back of neck like a flute while she was lulled to sleep by the tempo of his breathing.
God created an oasis for the Israelites but they fled because giants lived in the land God had given them.
JesseMowry
oh, this oasis
of tapestry
taped back flap jacks
dessert, desert me
feed me til i can’t breathe
make me grow flabby armpits
remind me of my inconsequential reality
hold me, cover me in whipped cream
creme freche
get fresh with my insides
until i’m full again
matt m
Morgado saw himself as the harbor in the storm. The oasis in the desert. The refuge that people should have been seeking all along. “Why do they look at me like I’m a freak?” He didn’t see how they couldn’t recognize his value, his importance as the one person who really cared about future generations. Ruby had been his most brilliant success and that’s why he put her back out, gave her back to society. Because she would make a difference. Her new abilities would change people, enable the the general population to access new areas of their brains and fully reveal their potential. No more of this 25% crap. Now people could experience their lives more fully.
But she wasn’t progressing as well as he had hoped she would. He wasn’t seeing the changes in her he expected. She was the only one he was tracking. All of the others hadn’t shown much promise so he released them knowing they were likely not going to offer the returns his hard work had warranted.
Ah! There she was. Just in the cafe’s door. Would his magic word work on her? Were the weeks of conditioning going to pay off? “let’s see” he mumbled to himself under his breath.
Had to be quiet about everything so no one noticed. He figured by now they had started looking for him. His assured success created desirability. Must remain undetected…
It used to be that I’d wake up on mornings like this, when I’d have to go to work later, and be immediately happy. Happy only because there was a possibility that you and I could talk for an hour. That was my oasis in the week. Now, that oasis has drained.
Fox Hedgehog
your truck is my oasis. the place i feel the most safe. i look into your eyes and see the leaves surrounding us reflected into my iris. a metallic oasis engulfs us. hearing the metal flex and relax, like a metal beast we are inside of. your truck is my oasis. metallic, industrial, soothing and safe. you are my oasis.
On any given day, sorting through my thoughts and feelings feels like scouring a dry and dusty desert for water to keep me alive. My brain feels starved and thirsty for something, anything that can keep it going. Keep it marching towards the ocean where it can finally relax.
The medicine is like my oasis in the desert. I find it every day, just in time to save me from roaming aimlessly into thoughts and feelings that it might be better for me to avoid. However, sometimes it feels good, even wonderful to roam the desert freely, falling in to whatever mishap or encounter that comes my way.
I even found beautiful flower out there once, but the flower did not need me or the oasis to survive. It could survive just fine on its own. I wanted to pluck it and bring it with me, but that would have destroyed everything that I loved about it. Eventually I had to flee from that place knowing good and well that I would probably never find that place or place like it again.
There on the horizon I see my oasis again, with the sun rising behind it and reflecting off of the tiny pool of life saving water. I love it here.
there are many oasis in desarts they usaley have a pond some trees and are coverd in grass most peaple think they are not real
aidanmowry
the moment he steps forward and slips into his awaiting arms, his pale eyes seem to drain of exhaustion, instead glowing faintly in the muted light, as though the life within was threatening to spill out. he holds on tight to the other boy, his hands desperate in their searching but kind in their touch. he lets out a long exhale and buries his head in his hair, listening to the other’s affectionate laugh. it’s a supernova in the shadows; an oasis in the dark.
´Oasis , these elements from our mutual recollection, only transpire to form the relaxing of the morning,´said the professor.
´That oasis is a mild form of thinking´, said the student.
Robert Kohlhammer
Tonight, your oasis was pinball. A pinball machine with goblins, an oscillating castle, directives from Merlin. You used to have a pinball machine in your bedroom at home, when you had money. That’s what you told me. Trips to Italy, private pinball machines – both of us exhausted beneath the upside-down Christmas trees hanging from the ceiling of the bar, the stirrings of old feelings –
whatever_artemesia
I stopped by Paul’s Crimson Oasis for a tall glass of black coffee. He told me all they had was water, and suddenly, I really was in a desert of my feelings. Still, a little lemon and licorice was enough to make even H2O pleasing, and I hopped back in my T-Bird with a full thermos and practically pedaled my way to Ferris’s Foyer for a glass of sherry and an espresso.
Your eyes, an oasis, daring me to write cliche poem after cliche poem but I stare them down in resistance, determined. I will not. You will not turn me into a traveler / weeping at the sight of you. I will not draw the demarcations of your cheekbones against the sand, hills sweeping into shallow pools that I crouch down to peer inside–catch my own reflection, brutal / and awakening.
my mind is an oasis
a half memories gap
in the sadness i’ve been provided with
why not
as if
it’s just a laugh, isn’t it?
i read so many books
now i’m just an illiterate fuck
why isn’t there more places for me
why can’t there be
more alliteration for me
illerate and unhappy
oasis can’t wait to be
something you can’t feel
but you always see
Is that ISIS or oasis? Such polar opposites. My daughter is my oasis. My grandson is my oasis. My granddaughter is my oasis. My writing is my oasis. My good friends are my oasis. I’ve just never seen an oasis in the desert. I would like to live in one. For a New York minute. Oh, I think I do live in one. Hawaii. Surprise. They can get quite boring.
After many weeks in the searing dry heat, uptop creatures he feared the most, they came to a small watering hole where shade came down in shelter. Without it, his last few months would have been much shorter.
the oasis shimmered with sunlight and mystery. She approached with awe and relief. when she kneeled at the water, realized that small fish were flourishing here.
a place of peace containing water wind a beautiful place a place of rest harmony love enjoyment a place to find God
She closed her eyes and she was there, in paradise. But it didn’t look like other people’s paradise might. Her’s was a small apartment on the second floor of a Chicago high-rise, clothes strewn on the floor, and his fingers playing along the back of neck like a flute while she was lulled to sleep by the tempo of his breathing.
God created an oasis for the Israelites but they fled because giants lived in the land God had given them.
oh, this oasis
of tapestry
taped back flap jacks
dessert, desert me
feed me til i can’t breathe
make me grow flabby armpits
remind me of my inconsequential reality
hold me, cover me in whipped cream
creme freche
get fresh with my insides
until i’m full again
Morgado saw himself as the harbor in the storm. The oasis in the desert. The refuge that people should have been seeking all along. “Why do they look at me like I’m a freak?” He didn’t see how they couldn’t recognize his value, his importance as the one person who really cared about future generations. Ruby had been his most brilliant success and that’s why he put her back out, gave her back to society. Because she would make a difference. Her new abilities would change people, enable the the general population to access new areas of their brains and fully reveal their potential. No more of this 25% crap. Now people could experience their lives more fully.
But she wasn’t progressing as well as he had hoped she would. He wasn’t seeing the changes in her he expected. She was the only one he was tracking. All of the others hadn’t shown much promise so he released them knowing they were likely not going to offer the returns his hard work had warranted.
Ah! There she was. Just in the cafe’s door. Would his magic word work on her? Were the weeks of conditioning going to pay off? “let’s see” he mumbled to himself under his breath.
Had to be quiet about everything so no one noticed. He figured by now they had started looking for him. His assured success created desirability. Must remain undetected…
It used to be that I’d wake up on mornings like this, when I’d have to go to work later, and be immediately happy. Happy only because there was a possibility that you and I could talk for an hour. That was my oasis in the week. Now, that oasis has drained.
your truck is my oasis. the place i feel the most safe. i look into your eyes and see the leaves surrounding us reflected into my iris. a metallic oasis engulfs us. hearing the metal flex and relax, like a metal beast we are inside of. your truck is my oasis. metallic, industrial, soothing and safe. you are my oasis.
On any given day, sorting through my thoughts and feelings feels like scouring a dry and dusty desert for water to keep me alive. My brain feels starved and thirsty for something, anything that can keep it going. Keep it marching towards the ocean where it can finally relax.
The medicine is like my oasis in the desert. I find it every day, just in time to save me from roaming aimlessly into thoughts and feelings that it might be better for me to avoid. However, sometimes it feels good, even wonderful to roam the desert freely, falling in to whatever mishap or encounter that comes my way.
I even found beautiful flower out there once, but the flower did not need me or the oasis to survive. It could survive just fine on its own. I wanted to pluck it and bring it with me, but that would have destroyed everything that I loved about it. Eventually I had to flee from that place knowing good and well that I would probably never find that place or place like it again.
There on the horizon I see my oasis again, with the sun rising behind it and reflecting off of the tiny pool of life saving water. I love it here.
there are many oasis in desarts they usaley have a pond some trees and are coverd in grass most peaple think they are not real
the moment he steps forward and slips into his awaiting arms, his pale eyes seem to drain of exhaustion, instead glowing faintly in the muted light, as though the life within was threatening to spill out. he holds on tight to the other boy, his hands desperate in their searching but kind in their touch. he lets out a long exhale and buries his head in his hair, listening to the other’s affectionate laugh. it’s a supernova in the shadows; an oasis in the dark.
´Oasis , these elements from our mutual recollection, only transpire to form the relaxing of the morning,´said the professor.
´That oasis is a mild form of thinking´, said the student.
Tonight, your oasis was pinball. A pinball machine with goblins, an oscillating castle, directives from Merlin. You used to have a pinball machine in your bedroom at home, when you had money. That’s what you told me. Trips to Italy, private pinball machines – both of us exhausted beneath the upside-down Christmas trees hanging from the ceiling of the bar, the stirrings of old feelings –
I stopped by Paul’s Crimson Oasis for a tall glass of black coffee. He told me all they had was water, and suddenly, I really was in a desert of my feelings. Still, a little lemon and licorice was enough to make even H2O pleasing, and I hopped back in my T-Bird with a full thermos and practically pedaled my way to Ferris’s Foyer for a glass of sherry and an espresso.