Geetima Baruah Sarma, 12 august 2013
Bad days do not last long,
One should have patience,
To overcome them all.
As the day ends,
Darkness rules all over,
But not for long.
With the change of seasons,
Winter brings about chill,
But not for long.
Trees shed off leaves,
Appear like dead trees,
But not for long.
Hurdles emerge in life,
Rays of hope seem shadowed,
But never for long.
[Published in ‘Buzzle’ on 8 August 2013
This poem was chosen as "Poem Hunter Member Poem of the Day" on 13 August 2013]
Gert Strydom, 12 august 2013
Roses bloom in the spring sun,
their fragrance attracts bee upon bee,
morning glories climb up on the veranda
but much more pretty you are,
as if of loveliness the source
and eternally I would stay and love you
if only I could.
Gert Strydom, 12 august 2013
You are lovelier than any other woman
that I in all of my life have ever known,
and I as only a normal kind of man
measure your shining eyes that are golden-brown
and do all of the greatest things that I can,
I even notice on your face the smallest frown,
as deep in my heart you are the only one,
with eyes shining as golden bright as the sun.
Gert Strydom, 12 august 2013
When I notice you in deep sleep
you have a fragile look
while shining are the brightest stars,
and mumbling is the brook
while outside the night-sky does weep;
in love you did me hook,
shadows are thrown by passing cars,
like a tale in a book.
Satish Verma, 12 august 2013
sometime I watch
the fear held aloft by you, possessed,
you try to protect yourself from you in vain,
very thirsty, white
hydrangeas on your lips tremble, exhaust
their need for clouds in blue eyes, pale
fountain gives up
tumult of sand grains for high skilled
white god of snow who could not prevent
a land slide all morning,
my bones still do not agree for a
marrow withdrawl for an emptied leukaemia
hidebound, rapacious
in the chaste tree, stuck by night grab,
the bright stars fall one by one on ice
Satish Verma
Sheree Suberan, 11 august 2013
Betrayal is beautiful,
It is in the beauty of the sword
And how it is gracefully stuck into your back.
Even though it might hurt for a while you can help
but to look at the gracefulness of how the betrayer betrayed you!
There beautiful plan to get behind your walls,
how they gently calm up and help you break them down,
how the dance across the land mines you planted,
how they mysteriously cut though the barb wire you place so
expectantly that no one would make it that far,
how they pose so angelic as the plunged the sword str8 into your heart,
piercing even the soul,
as they walked away with everything crumbling around you
and yet you can't seem to give up,
you can't go through a day without that angelic smile,
the movement in there ways!
You can't help but to LOVE the Betrayer!
By Sheree Suberan
Sheree Suberan, 11 august 2013
A single rose can mean more to you, then a dozen, just because of the person who gives it to you.
A single flower can bring you to tears, because of the memories of who you give it to.
A bundle of flowers makes you want to give them to the person you love,
Even after the flowers have withered away, the memories live on
Even though you thought at that very moment, I am not a flower kind of girl now that, that person is gone it means so much more,
That single rose has become a memory of the person you fell in love with,
It becomes a pain to the heart,
It has become a thorn to the mind,
It has the power of bring you to the ground, like a kick to the gut,
But yet you can’t leave the flower behind, you can’t turn away from it, you can’t leave the memory,
You are forced to pick this flower, you can’t control it, it is drawing you in like a moth to a flame, you don’t even realize that the flame may cause you unspeakable damage, it can cause everyone unspeakable damage.
Yet you are drawn in to dance with this flame, it is unnoticeable that you are in a fire being burned alive, but once you have this flame with you, nothing else matters, nothing else hurts,
The pain,
The sorrow,
It’s gone,
All that’s left is a burning moth, with the flames slowly vanishing into the darkness, and the pain returns, the emptiness is back.
You are left with memories of that one beautiful flame that eventually burned out.
By Sheree Suberan
Satish Verma, 11 august 2013
non compos mentis
my monologue,
non-believer will say, it was
insult of salt,
under the bark, white ants were climbing, boring into sap,
kneeling,
at war with yourself,
disinheriting the loud blood,
you want to thwart the murky ariel
to scour the black mass
at belly,
the dynasty ends in obscene hugs,
grievers want to be forgiven
for the sake of kneading truth
on merciless palms:
it kills the headache, the eyes, the vistas
of bleeding expansion
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 10 august 2013
at cremation ground
the flames were creating
strange words
he stood still, in void, between unfenced tears
there was no need to question the answers,
kicking up the history, of crossing the bridge
over the river of annihilation
of self, making a gift of forked tongue
of cobra, spiteful, as an old virgin
it was over without thinking, scribbling
on the margin, his name in different inks
a young smell floats an funny rocks of
events and the fish swims in eyes of dead
foetus in womb, with unclenched fists
Satish Verma
Talat Jehan, 10 august 2013
Selfishness is a stage where everyone can play their role..
People can play and act without any practice and experience..
Everyone is a actor and know how to act and read their script very well..
All they want is a chance to let someone down and they are not even scared to humiliate someone..
They are masters is this game of cruelty..
Selfishness is a drama where anyone can make your cry..
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