Milena Sušnik Falle

Milena Sušnik Falle, 11 may 2013

NEKDO, KI VEČ GA NI

Na pomlad
čakam,
da pride mimo
izza potopljenih let,
nekdo, ki več ga ni;
na praznik
brstečih tulipanov,
ko v duši otipam
zavetje tistih čutnih rok,
žarečih v mehkobi dotika,
nepreklicno samo mojih;
nedeljiv simbol sreče,
kot v venček povezana
bela omela,
viseča na vratih
vsakoletnega
božičnega večera.


Čakam – skrivoma,
da pride mimo
nekdo, ki več ga ni,
z mehkimi stopinjami
po stezi znani,
kot da se bojim,
da prazen dan
ne bi zaslužil
polnega jutra;
v pričakovanju
sem kot deroča reka,
ki človeka nosi,
spodkopava tla,
neizprosno pogubljivo,
sončnost pomladne slike
slikovitih iluzij,
upanje dohiteva.

Milena Sušnik Falle - Slovenija
pesniška zbirka Tempus fugit – Čas beži


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 11 may 2013

MUTATION

Like black birds
homing in twilight, to the tree
my thoughts make a perfect landing.

I lift the silence in sleep.
A flying snake enters
a pink room.

A bullet pierces the heart.
No acolytes, I will
catch myself the drifting smell

of eternal caress. Basking
in pain I pluck up my
trail in rubble of dreams.

You defy the likeness to god
become poor like an undershirt.
and walk straight.


Satish Verma


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Satish Verma

Satish Verma, 10 may 2013

LET ME GO INTO SNOW

Audacity to live with your demons,
putting up a fake love belief,
who was the time,
of that dark night? Distinctly alive to what
I was not just putting up the shades of death
into nothingness of peace in war.

Searching for self in capacious hope,
was it the half-light of a moon,
slipped on the words of a hoisted grief?
A wild truth was better than silken ribbons
of fabricated lies. I am tired of playing
games on the turf of synthetic desires.


It would be time again, for what was time,
encapsulated in crazy dialogues of taking on
a chaste enemy. I will give my life for
a bright red rose in absence of sun, drenched
in fire and burning in dew drops, for the
flowering of melting snow.


Satish Verma


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Joe Breunig

Joe Breunig, 9 may 2013

Poem: The Color of YHWH

A new search is ongoing,
with Israeli chemists on a trek;
they seek find the color of God,
which was formerly called tekhelet.

Is its significance a harbinger
of future Messianic times?
Can the rabbis or scientists
decipher this dividing line?

It’s an enigmatic shade of blue
that represents God’s infinity
caught between the color spectrum
of visible light and invisibility.

Some experts believe the source,
(though the origin is unknown),
may be the secretive creatures
of antiquity called… the hillazon.

Based on some vague descriptions,
its body resembles the ocean;
can Levitical trade secrets be exposed
with the clarity of resolution?

This divine azure is a key color,
of the high priest’s holy vestments;
for this serves as a reminder to keep
and honor God’s law and commandments.

Allow the penetrating light of God
to serve as a transforming catalyst;
though this mystery of life is unfinished,
know that faith is not an accident.

Open my eyes Lord, that I may see
the royal blue of Your sea
and observe Your sea of the sky,
that depicts the colored backdrop
of the holy throne belonging to Adonai. 
  
 
 
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Num 15:38-39 and an episode of the Naked Archaeologist;
as part of the dye making process, direct sunlight is
required and serves as a catalyst to modify the color
pigment at the atomic level.
 
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.


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Joe Breunig

Joe Breunig, 9 may 2013

Poem: Upon this Altar

O my Lord, help me with my request:
Set up Your permanent altar in my life.
Form the foundation of this altar,
with the unhewn rock of my stony heart,
since it represents the many hardships
of lack-luster, life experiences.
Organize these mundane rock fragments,
in a manner that is pleasing to You.
With this personal and secret platform,
I desire to commune with Thee frequently,
for it’s not for religious show or ceremony.
For my heart is still sacred territory,
not to be shared with the vain things,
that keep us needlessly separated.
And lastly Lord, I humbly ask that You
anoint this altar with the consecrated oil
of the Holy Spirit’s presence,
so that my life… remains faithful.  
  
 
 
Author Notes:
 
Loosely based on:
Eze 11:19-20, 36:25-29a; Psa 73:25-26; Prov 23:15
 
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.


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Greg

Greg, 9 may 2013

Misfiguration

With infinity to do and nothing to say
Fade silent into breath taking wonder
A crossing for a king to sink
And a pain for the wretch to scream, and scream
 
Bring wondrous shackles to the brink of blackness
And scream for the lit cigarette
To burn you deep in the pits of wonder
To harmonize with your contentment, collapsing the wave
 
Feel free to say something, anything at all
Just let me know I'm important enough to ignore
To actively ignore, while shining bright on your phase
Let me know you notice the shun
 
Facade upon layer upon facade upon...
Digging softly with a layer of untouched pain
Kiss the solemn ground and lay feet bear
For the mourning comes and the sadness never leaves
 
The mourning goes and turns to photosynthesis
And leukemia for someone's grandmother
The hand that once held him from her wheel chair
Now is falling off for fear of reprieve.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 9 may 2013

Pigeons at dawn

People make extraordinary efforts
to catch the essence of life,
to be truly living
and some visit third-rate motel
and hotel rooms
where they undress to ravage each other,
some read, watch television
into the early hours
and some just stay up
always thinking
as if searching for their souls.
 
I took the steps down
of the old dilapidated building
of which the elevators
were all broken
and it was chilly
with grey concrete under my feet
 
and the shop at the nearest garage was open
twenty four seven,
where I bought a bread and a half and milk
while the first orange pink glow
was creeping over the eastern horizon
 
and the world was as if on hold 
and still waiting
for the bright sun before awaking,
with lights glowing yellow
in the rows of lamps in the street,
empty from cars and people
 
and it was a little cold in my shorts
but the doves in the park
at the art museum came down in droves,
landed cooing and bunched around me
pecking up hungry the bits
that I broke from the half loaf.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 9 may 2013

The bird

We were walking in the park,
our little zoo of dogs and you and me.
 
One was splashing in the stream,
swimming like a huge black beaver,
 
the little one barked from the bank
as if encouraging and telling the others what to do,
 
one was sniffing the trees, looking for a spot
as if surprised at what she got,
 
one was looking out for other people
as if someone could suddenly draw a knife
 
and come challenging with it
staying aware as if guarding us
 
and then a bird came out of nowhere,
appeared in the air above me,
 
decided that my head
was a great place to rest
 
and at the last moment fluttered up
changing landing orders to that of flight.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 9 may 2013

The bird

We were walking in the park,
our little zoo of dogs and you and me.
 
One was splashing in the stream,
swimming like a huge black beaver,
 
the little one barked from the bank
as if encouraging and telling the others what to do,
 
one was sniffing the trees, looking for a spot
as if surprised at what she got,
 
one was looking out for other people
as if someone could suddenly draw a knife
 
and come challenging with it
staying aware as if guarding us
 
and then a bird came out of nowhere,
appeared in the air above me,
 
decided that my head
was a great place to rest
 
and at the last moment fluttered up
changing landing orders to that of flight.


number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 9 may 2013

Vulture calls

Who killed all of these
these carcasses of elephants,
buffalo and almost every wild gazelle
vulture calls to its mates

and descending, in a dark swarm
of feathers and wings
the pecking begins.

In the distance man drives off
with his implements of war
with military trucks laden with loot,
Who killed all of these
these carcasses of elephants,
buffalo and almost every wild gazelle
vulture calls to its mates

and descending, in a dark swarm
of feathers and wings
the pecking begins.

In the distance man drives off
with his implements of war
with military trucks laden with loot,

with ivory, meat, skins stacked
without a care
to the consequences of his deeds
and happily vulture feeds.

with ivory, meat, skins stacked
without a care
to the consequences of his deeds
and happily vulture feeds.


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