Satish Verma, 11 august 2015
How sad you had been
without wholeness for the,
price of having broken shoulders?
The people were shedding their skins
to wear new masks.
I was haunted in my sleep.
Sun was not rising.
House to house from face to face,
death makes a pause.
Time sits for a while, when
we mourn in silence.
A scream halts in our throats.
In the courtyard a pungent smell spreads.
Atrophied limbs tremble.
The elegance foresakes the human touch.
The river dries up,
sucked in by laments of earth.
The unfolding of wounds
festers on cheeks.
Lips sluicing the grief,
spill benediction!
Gert Strydom, 10 august 2015
The hands that hold all planets in the endless universe,
that control galaxies in stretched out space
is still busy building you, and me
is mightily folded around my insignificant life
and in nature time after time I see their work
as they are here close to fend off all kinds of catastrophe.
The thoughts out of which man and all animals did come,
that guides and controls all things from the time of creation
is still busy astounding me with intense love
and every man, animal and plant is still mended by that power
as continually that great mind is busy
and where all things do fail God is still working.
The Christ that no cat-o’-nine nails, nail or spear could keep in death
is continually providing my daily bread.
He is present in each daily stress, circumstance and distress
and the hart that trusts Him
does even in the years of old age find revival
and will rest in His soft omnipotent hands.
Satish Verma, 10 august 2015
When your lies pretend to be truths,
Your house becomes full of cadavers.
The reticent progeny,
you abandoned at birth, strikes.
My hands bleed, lifting the bones.
Actuality overwhelms the landscape
like molten lava.
Shadows in the sun, grow larger when,
we are dissecting the truth.
A daunting work to dig out the relics.
We have not modified our speech.
Ill tempered time
makes me insane.
I was not prepared for this calamity
losing my way in a jungle of untruths.
Mighty darkness
pierces the perennial thoughts
in the brain edifice,
knives were out all evening,
emptiness was screaming.
Satish Verma, 9 august 2015
Mirror to mirror
a face floated in anguish
the mourning was deep
whenever inquest for truth was made.
Was it so terrible?
I cannot read the human face.
We were so used
to wear the masks.
Stoned and deaf,
fuzzy kiss of death levels the ferocious peak.
The nameless murder
of truth got a reward.
Garden of strange foliage
slurred on a song.
A metaphysical experience
sniffs the life.
Chained to the probity of the city
I bowed my head.
Reluctant to move in a procession of ugly months.
Lifetime’s nostalgia lifted a veil.
No sleep will descend.
I still carry
my father inside.
Satish Verma, 8 august 2015
Mob hurts you
when you were standing alone in a crowd.
Bending like blade of grass
you accepted the rocks.
Your inner world broke down.
Softly you became a river,
flowing, meandering,
sucking the barriers.
The shivering relationship
puts off the mask,
a catastrophy or
liquidation of a frame took place?
With no regrets, life declares the fall of
our incorruptible icon.
The time and face
changed the color.
Farewell to truth was given!
For the poverty, the dirt;
the shriveled faces
god repented.
Dark lead the dark.
Blasts of anger did not help.
Few feet crossed the path of truth.
Stormy winds erased
the clusters of white roses.
Gert Strydom, 7 august 2015
When I did search for the meaning of the word love
I could nowhere find an inclusive perfect definition
and yet I do know that it’s something that binds two persons,
that it’s something that is a kind of blessing or a curse
and the deeper I did investigate it the more I became aware
that it is something with the power to destroy
and disillusioned like a mere child I did realise
that each person is a character in God’s script
and when I did look deep in your eyes
I did see something moving in your heart
but even though sincere and fond a person can be
and even if those emotions did look like love
I did realise that love is decision of the will
without the impact of disillusionment or fear.
Satish Verma, 7 august 2015
Blood splatters on walls,
on earth. Erstwhile anointed idol
lies broken. Thatched roof was burning.
Navel crushed on the newspaper,
a rape was atoned by cash award.
A womb refuses to eject the ticking clock
wants to preserve the window of sin.
Mother do not cry for the ashen stranger
he will go to the roaring sea to wash the
bleeding corn, and the mouth.
Salt in the eyes is hurting. Paper thin
purple child becomes the player of death.
Appetite of flesh for nirvana has cuddled
the religion of grizzly bears. Be or not to
be makes a body formless and slapped.
River is waiting for the shoreline to show
respect for the wandering fakir. He comes
once in thousand years and crosses the dams.
World will kiss his tattered toga. He wanted
nothing, he gave nothing.
Joe Breunig, 6 august 2015
The quintessence of Christian living and lifestyle,
is becoming more like Christ through everyday trials;
Flaunting documentation of accomplishments compiled,
will not impress The Almighty or even make Him smile.
Are you hungering or thirsting for His Righteousness?
Or is it some vain imaginary or visionary theorization
to demonstrate a haughtiness of spiritual intellect?
Just because you’re a part of Jehovah’s holy nation,
doesn’t mean that you can bully the unsaved to join.
The World understands and recognizes poor behaviors;
Doing what’s right and being satisfied before God,
implies that you are properly honoring our Savior
through personal conduct and true transparent living.
An increasing affinity for some spiritual pleasance,
is not equivalent to having a relationship with Him.
Religious ideologies are empty… without His Presence.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
Matt 5:6; Phil 1:9-11; Acts 20:17-21
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Gert Strydom, 6 august 2015
If I my God, do observe Your heaven above me at night
there are white, green, yellow and blue stars that shine bright
and then for moments that linger I am astounded, and breathless
and I do wonder at Your great omnipotent might
and more in wonder I am by the knowledge that You do bless
each human being and that You do address
each problem and worry that does him befall
where by our own fall to sin we live in this great mess
that does encompass, our own world and all
that we do, that we feel and are, even if we are great or small
does bare great importance to You
even if we do not initially do hear or even regard Your call
and still You are present in whatever we do
to lead us back to the way that is good and true.
Satish Verma, 6 august 2015
Give me your lips
I have to drink the dark night.
It is the final assault
for tomorrow. The idea
becomes a journey.
I have to walk on water.
True dialogue starts
when stars are not with you.
I am standing on rooftop
scanning the sky.
Let me repeat the ascent,
the hill is younger than me.
It will settle the dispute,
man was taller than god.
You become a stranger
in your own drawn circle.
Life had the absurd walls
a wounded center.
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