Gert Strydom, 21 august 2013
(after Dorothy Parker)
Time after time dies
the new buds of the rose,
and the seasons fill the skies
as life passes on and day after day goes.
I love you with all my heart,
with unselfishness
and never we will part
or be able to love each other less
and there’s something in loving again,
while every day is different from before,
some are full of sunshine other full of rain
and every day we do adore each other more and much more
while days string on and on
and sweep us along.
[Reference: “Recurrence” by Dorothy Parker.]
Satish Verma, 21 august 2013
No anchors. I was not seeking
a blind spot
in shadows of the wall, standing
on a hot, glistening, obsidian,
earing only death-gloves
of pink body, the caked fronds of a fossil-name,
inviting the rain to wet the brown
grass as tall as the fallen pride
of a coiled accomplishment of a tiger,
the lips nearest to the fangs of
cobra, still nonchalant about the Murphy's Law;
mute belief of a blueberry
shedding the grey ash of pollen
from the virgin flowers of doom,
from dream to dream,
when the shifting of night starts
at ground red, a white shirt climbs on
a tank to challenge the turret.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 20 august 2013
When the rain fell for fourteen days
the yellow peaches did get ripe
while streams washed like rivers
and sheep and even cattle drowned,
the dust roads became muddy
while the rain poured down
as if without end.
and on a particular day
the sun shone while it was raining
with the pouring drops
shining bright like diamonds
but the farmers were trapped on their farms
by streams that crossed roads,
that where flowing strong like rivers
and where they were praying constantly for rain
they started to beg the Lord
for the rain to end..
Gert Strydom, 20 august 2013
The cold sneaks in through the windows
and before you know it winter has begin
when the ripe lies around freezing everywhere,
while the grass is brown like the ground
and the branches of the trees are stripped
while the world lies naked and open
but then a person realizes
that it is a time of rest
and in all of nature
there is a silent slumbering
when the cold
pierces tot the depths of everything.
Gert Strydom, 20 august 2013
When it starts to rain miserable at the sea
then the holidaymakers want to go home
and then everyone turns
on the sea and beach their back
and suddenly everybody is unhappy
that bad weather does also exist at the sea
and many are angry and moody
when they do return to where they live.
Satish Verma, 20 august 2013
Cereus was in bloom in nightwashed
desert, sand was cool, it tipped off
the contour drain, a river sent its compliments.
If the death was at home, like an
estranged lover, will you open the door
in dusky stripes of morning?
Rubber was burning in afternoon rain.
An alert was sounded in curious lanes;
the shadow was lengthening its stay!
Standing on the burnt-out hull, I count
the shouts of the fathers on artifical limbs.
Bits of violence have broken the sea.
The seedless fruits descend on the glistening
coffin. A city walks with me without end.
There were roses, roses all the way.
Satish Verma
Bazyliszek, 20 august 2013
I was born
because of god
I was born
to feel to see
to hear and cry
I was only born
to meet the death
Disia Brenize, 19 august 2013
On the verge of tears
Is not a happy place
Its one of great distress
And one of huge disgrace
The feeling in your chest
Heavily weighing you down
The tears hanging from your eyes
And the ever deepening frown
And sits in side your throat
And you hold in its spot
As you try not to scream
I t steadily grows hot
Your breath begins to shorten
Becoming short and hollow
The tears stream down your face
They never wait to follow
You’ll from now till later
And slowly feeling better
As you do feel better
Your shirt will feel much wetter
Gert Strydom, 19 august 2013
Sometimes I just want to be with you
and I want to stand close to you,
want to break your mouth open with my tongue
but days just go on
and sometimes a kind of deep fear comes
that everything is just passing
and far too quickly week upon week goes by
while the hour-work keeps ticking.
Gert Strydom, 19 august 2013
Just to you deeply I have bound my heart
and then I did trust you
with personal things that can destroy my life,
and I do hold onto you
as if you are a barrier against every danger.
You are my wife,
my companion, my friend – more than this -
the one in whose hands I am placing everything.
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