An Excerpt From
 Sounds of the Sand and Dreams of the Dune
Poetry inspired by the Ancient East
by priscilla brett


I dream of Sultans

I dream

of your jewled palaces
spice roads
and caravans long,
harems and princesses,
sultans and magi,
open air markets

and sounds
a thousand years
have known

yet when I look for you

I find an angry man
In a cave




Groundstorm

Again it comes running
across plain
across hill
across dune and then still
it comes

As if nothing were to stand in it's path
A wall
Swallowing all
    Centuries
    Kingdoms
    Nations
  
and then it is gone
another mans nightmare


Harem

I needed you.
Once.
Thieves would steal me in the night
ravage and rape,
kill and disfigure.

There was a bond
you needed sons
and you would keep me safe.

Now,

the only thief in the night is you.
And from me,
you've stolen everything.



Standing

I want to stand at the gates of Petra
Before the doors of the gods themselves
and I want to look upon something older than me
older than this modern world of plastic and static
older then your cars and your cell phones
something that will be there when they have turned to dust

I want to stand there and touch walls that have watched nations crumble and fall
that have stood as time itself battered them, untouching their cold faces



A Sandy Joke

I'm packing your caravan.
Would you like one hump
or two?


Why good genies go bad

Six hour into the conversation....

But only three?
Of course only three.
Why only three?
That's the rule.
It's a bad rule.
Who are you to say it's a bad rule?
I just think it's stupid.
I could just give you none.
Isn't that against the rules?
Just make three so I can leave.
How long do I have to make them?
As long as you want.
What if I want to wait a while?
That would be unwise.
What do you mean, unwise?
Please, just make them and I can leave.
Where did you get that awful hat?
In a Shouk. Now please.
What is a shouk?
A market.
Why didn't you just say market?
........