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.
Gert Strydom, 5 august 2015
(For my wife, Daleen on our wedding anniversary)
In my thoughts you keep unfolding
with your white image that I keep remembering
and as always you are far past beautiful
as my companion, my beloved and wife,
the one to whom I do cling in life
and constantly you are true
as the one with whom I in love I do live
without a moment of consideration or contrition
and I can trust you with my deepest secrets,
keep depending on you while other people do make a hash
as to me you are far past unusual
and all of my best dreams I find in you
as the one that I want to love more
far past time and even past death.
Gert Strydom, 5 august 2015
The flock of Hadeda-ibises decent
and glitter bronze
in an indecent purple-copper sheen
in the sharp summer sun in the garden
and like a group of well armed ancient hoplites
they do form a formation
as they gather together
while their long sharp spear-like bills
slam down into the soft ground
to irradiate all snails, earthworms,
king-crickets and the larvae
of moths and beetles
that they do find
and when a human being startles them
they flap their huge wings
and loudly cry out “haa-haa-de-dah”
before rising with great strain into the air.
Satish Verma, 5 august 2015
There was a geometric progression
in movement of truth and dreams.
Candles snuffed out in moon light,
were dripping bloody tears.
My lips tasted the salt,
accepted the basket of wounds.
A sacred gift, you still cannot read the eyes.
Night lifts a crescent moon
on slaughtered clouds.
Diaspora of stars burn their love poems.
I collect the pebbles to build a path.
The arthritic branches will never know,
how love was evaporated from the trees?
Signatures were
ahead of times, giving up,
their names to childhood.
We turned into dots.
The sorrow started an enquiry into wilting of words.
Life was to be read as a book,
pages moth-eaten and yellow.
Gert Strydom, 4 august 2015
Away are the orange, white and blue
and there is another flag that I observe fluttering
as a sign of our country
and continually this country is stained with blood,
while millions of Afrikaners are leaving it
and the others are clinging to their land like I am doing
while the hand of a dark spirit does beget abdominal crimes
and my Lord, I am still trusting on Your mercy
that You like in the ancient times will again bring flesh to the bones
and will erect people, who stand as loyal as Gideon Scheepers did,
although they are scattered from work, from a home and their loved ones
and Lord, I want to insist upon a great change to come
and although we are one nation an unreasonable settling is constantly being forced down
and in the cities and the rural arias people are being affected
and Lord, I know that you do keep record of those that follow you,
that You do bare knowledge about every single thing
that Your rains of destruction will fall at a time
and that You do measure out a time for all governments,
that You do notice where innocent people wander around scattered,
how a new government does disinherit people from their future,
that you do observe sincere people of all colours that are trying to serve You,
also those that are murderer, are raped and that does die in the hands of robbers
and may the whole world know about our sincerity and Your salvation,
that to the bitter end true to You and our duty and blood,
we did not want to forget our people, our ideals and our God,
that we do only cling to Your salvation
and that although the enemy wanted us to forsake everything
we trusted that You would heal and mend our country.
Satish Verma, 3 august 2015
The matrix drinks the words,
in the anonymity of opaque meanings.
Heart slips a flutter,
to catch the unborn tomorrow.
The deep azure measures the depth, the fear,
drowning the architect,
generic of doom.
A dropp floats in an ocean of solitude,
a static milieu which has no quivering of its own.
The roots always give pain.
Your eyes are filled with tears.
Now final image
was a memoir of falling leaves.
The dark effect splinters,
into many seeds.
The space widens between us in a
hush of loneliness.
Egocentric wind scrapes our bones.
Satish Verma, 2 august 2015
Joining the names,
a nameless melancholia crosses a borderland,
between dreams & reality.
The stone face, a mask,
some nothingness transcends
the unhearing mind.
Tell me how much
you know about yourself?
Moon shaped pleasures
did not stir me, not ever.
The hours of a dark day moved
in pink fog, my heart
was bruised in a fall.
My infinite failures
saw the inversed truth.
Yellow was the rage, fire.
A perpetual leap from emptiness.
The flames were movements,
towards void.
The thoughts were circling over the flames.
Green windows open, shut, open.
My timeless affair with my self starts.
George Krokos, 1 august 2015
There are none who are farther or closer to God in proximity
except for those perhaps who are realising their own divinity.
____________________________________________
George Krokos, 1 august 2015
Nothing in this world was really made to last
not even our bodies in which we’ve been cast.
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