Gert Strydom, 25 april 2016
On Pretoria (Italian sonnet)
I have not seen a city more fair
than Pretoria during spring
when on every street Jacaranda trees are flowering
and the scent of those flowers is in the air
and you might not find this kind of beauty anywhere
but in Pretoria where the faces of people are smiling
and to live in Pretoria during this time feels exciting
when any other city seems stripped, naked and bare.
From the outer hillocks history does its marvels display
where monuments rise as a token to existence
and churches, hero acres, offices and theaters lie
in the hazy beauty of the new day
while the people live their lives with persistence
as the days leap into years as they pass by.
Oor Pretoria
Ek het nie ‘n mooier stad gesien
as Pretoria in die lente
as Jakaranda bome op elke straat blom
en die geur van daardie blomme in die lug is
en dié soort prag sal mens nêrens anders vind
as in Pretoria met glimlagte op haar mense se gesigte
en om gedurende dié tyd in Pretoria te wees maak mens opgewonde
as elke ander stad gestroop, naak en leeg lyk.
Van die buitenste heuwels vertoon die geskiedenis wonders
waar monumente rys as ‘n teken van bestaan
en kerke, heldeakkers, kantore en teaters lê
in die wasige skoonheid van die nuwe dag
waar mense leef met volharding
as dae na jare spring soos wat hulle verby gaan.
Satish Verma, 25 april 2016
Name was more beautiful than the face.
It was charisma of night.
A dream without the eyes.
Laughing skull on the road
opens a wound,
and dying footprints were neither consenting
nor refusing.
A faticity clamps the flow of blood,
I was counting the stitches,
somewhere the pain was reappearing.
Interpersonal hate had a story to tell:
greed, anger and bullets.
The legs were chopped off from truth.
He was not faithful to sun.
In my heart lies a trapped river.
Its history is old, its water was humble.
Uncontaminated was the knock on the door
to a melting of white snow.
Gert Strydom, 24 april 2016
Returning to my Pretoria,
is like to stepping into a place
that is my own,
where I can feel
my own life beating,
where days run into remembrance
and passion does stretch almost endlessly back,
where life does take me back
to a place full of promises,
where flowering trees
does welcome me
as if that place stays part of my life.
Satish Verma, 24 april 2016
Have not asked much,
still attached to you with subtelities,
I wanted freedom from you,
For removing stings from the flesh.
Anxiety was the darkest color
of floating buds on lake.
Sitting on the edge of panic,
I started counting the waves.
Mixed emotions always subtract a smile
Just lonely, I went for the swim in rimless agony.
Have not heard much of you in ages.
Still memories crop up for a while.
I wanted nemesis from you.
Talking of blue and white clouds
love has many moods.
Devastated by a burning moon
I was wishing a watery burial.
Joe Breunig, 23 april 2016
With Faith, there’s no need to hide;
His Spirit, in you, resides;
shed any vain foolishness
and follow your Holy Guide.
To the lost, Faith makes no sense;
at Last Judgment, the pretense
of personal ignorance…
fails as a valid defense.
The World knows hypocrisy
and it watches us closely;
they covet genuine proof
that your Faith has eyes to see!
With “Intelligent Design”,
they’re slow to admit that signs
of God’s Role is evident,
but hope to drink His new wine!
Are you, still doubting yourself?
Are you, failing to see change,
that’s occurring in your heart?
By the Savior’s Great Exchange,
you’ll get a crown of beauty
and not ashes of mourning;
contentment develops as…
you see yourself transforming!
Author notes:
Inspired by:
John 16:13; Rom 8:14; 2 Cor 5:21; Isa 61:3
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
Joe Breunig, 23 april 2016
God has a purpose and plan,
behind every difficulty
and life experience we face;
we’re never blindly promised
a lifetime of ease or pleasure,
but a flow of mercy and grace
to soothe heartaches and pain.
We’ve the strength to overcome
by His Word and we’re blessed
as children… of the Living God!
We’re to go forth believing,
knowing that we’re sustained,
imparted with His divine rest.
Author notes
Inspired by:
Jer 29:11; Lam 3:22-23; Rom 8:37-39;
2 Cor 6:18; Psa 18:32, 37:7; Eccl 2:24-25
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
Joe Breunig, 23 april 2016
Let us live, like we are
worth the high price He paid;
let us be truly grateful,
of the sacrifice Christ made.
Let us live, like we are
Children of His eternal Kingdom;
let us walk with Love, Power
and the Spirit of divine wisdom.
Let us live, like we are
inseparable members of His family;
let us reflect, real integrity,
with Light’s full transparency.
Let us live, like we are
conquerors sharing His victory;
let us be authentic, whereby
the Christ in us… has liberty!
Author notes
Inspired by:
John 3:16-17; 2 Pet 1:3-11; Eph 1:5, 5:1;
Rom 8:37-39; 2 Cor 3:17-18
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
Satish Verma, 23 april 2016
Coming out of the cemetry,
Faith, does not tell you the truth.
Becomes chaste innocence,
Of imbeciles.
How shabbily life treats you sometimes?
Tossing you on garbage, squeezing
your brain, smashing your marrow
and turning you into pulp.
We are all eyes, but no vision.
Ownership of a spinning pain,
does not entitle you for a liberation
and a gift of guardian pendant does not protect you.
Brutal hanging to sever off the neck
was not crucial.
I wanted to know
who was afraid of whom?
Gert Strydom, 22 april 2016
Some people followed your dream in your day
but to others it brought pain and death, as they died,
in war and concentration camps while you were full of pride
and for deliverance women and children did pray
while some saw you as gay, but not only in the happy way,
while roughshod you did over any opposition ride:
beware them that was not on you or your queen’s side
as with the lives of nations you did play
and where you are in eternal rest
the judgement of God will at a time be on you
as only He does the ways of nations ordain
your deeds, your life is forgotten at best,
as only to your own pocket you were really true
and to the innocent you brought poverty and pain.
[Reference: “The burial 1902” by Rudyard Kipling.]
Satish Verma, 22 april 2016
Space has all the silent approval,
truth will not multiply.
Another funeral takes place
in the barren field of lies.
Fire burns the life’s hopes,
while town mourns the death.
Sunshine bakes the eyes
but truth will not multiply.
Desireless peak of thoughts
sets out the smoke,
towards our homes,
trampling the shame, guilt and hurts.
We were still indulging in useless talk
but truth will not multiply.
Virtue has a unique impulse
a drone in the ears.
Fog was waiting for the sky.
The planet empties a bucket of sorrow.
I will favour the faceless name,
but truth will not multiply.
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