Ocean Sea

All that is eternal is circular.                     - Aristotle         Cueta and Tetuan are outposts within the Arab psyche,         frail islets jutting their Islamic consciousness         into the infidel mind.         A mere eight miles separates the tip of North Africa         from Iberia's reclining form.         An Arab dhow sits off the port of Tangier         where the unsuspecting can lose more than priapic curiosity.         Arabia, from Ormuz to Sofala,         an empire of sabulous plenitude -         shiekdoms, oil rich fiefs, and         luxurious enervation.         Da Gama rounds the Bight of Africa, needles the Saracen eye.         Tutankhamen rests dolefully within the dunes         away from bone merchants until 1923 draws nigh.         Ptolemy errs and extends Africa to the Poles.         The noblest failure in antiquity rests in Zama         while Jesus toiled for our betterment at Galilee.         Richard dies besieging Acre.         Carnage occurred at Lepanto with attendant demise of the Turk.         Marco Polo ignores the Levant for the riches of a Khan.         The memory of El Alamein burnt away any vestige of Tobruk.         The Casbah is my twain that confirms East & West shall never meet.         The False Prophet is in abundance, notwithstanding Western civilization's fierce resistance to his ideas.         Minarets, prayer rugs face Mecca five times daily while         opium on a mother's breast induces premature death in         unwanted infant girls.         The purdah is an eerie monologue between the feminine         form and purloined courage.         Mysticism juxtaposes carnal delight in the halls of the         Saladein's concubines.         Harems & the seraglios are the coveted date wine.         In Cape Bojador, there lurks a primeval instinct,         a nagging supposition all is not right with Araby.         The bath, the cloying sweetness of duplicity,         stirs amidst trenchant eyes.         Marmelukes are more than adventure book fiction         in the silent quarters.         The swirling dust, the prohibition of alcoholic drink,         are dervishes in the hadji's brain.         Everywhere, the ragged people cluster,         almsgiving becomes a prayer in the saline night.         Any but the Moslem faith caught in the pilgrimmage         to Mecca meet swift death.         The shopfronts with their bronzed clatter,         decantered gold, near haggling that becomes         the economics of plea bargaining, wits         desire against pressing need.         Debarking from Algeciras, facing the sublime North African         desert as her colours coil, pitch forward amongst the hills,         squares this continent's personality against the Occident.         Europe found other continents soft butter to her trenchant blade.         Here, she must consider herself matched with the heady dictates of survival.