Satish Verma, 3 july 2015
My garden cries for no reason.
Kindness melts into a rain
of twisted petals. And that is it.
Alone I whisper the translucent words,
watching the death of dreams, living fossils.
The sun bakes the seeds.
The essence will not heal,
this bandaged soul,
the conceptual death of a thought.
This fear is like a curled snake.
Must I abandon the path? I know,
I will not forgive me, at this dim joint.
I must move.
I do not know, what to think,
how to catch, the poetry of night.
The light blinks on my eyes.
I walk in the shadows of sounds,
smashing the road signs.
Joe Breunig, 2 july 2015
Real Love divinely conquers all things,
which are contrary to His, Holy Spirit.
Nothing is too difficult for The Lord;
He is unrestrained, having no limits!
His desires are righteous; His existence
fuels all of creation to meet His bidding;
though His patience exceeds our perception,
we need to remember that He’s not kidding
about His wanting an everlasting family,
that’s fine-tuned with His sacred tenets.
We’ll inhabit Heaven with His winged angels,
having escaped this blue-marbled planet…
for the remainder of Jehovah’s eternity.
He’s undeniable and one day, we’ll see
Him clothed in majesty and eternal glory!
What a glorious day, that date will be!
Author Notes
Inspired by:
1 Cor 6:19; 1 Tim 3:16
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Gert Strydom, 2 july 2015
At twilight when the sun dips beyond the nearest hill
the dark winter night comes with its entire chill
and when in the early evening the last car drives by
silence falls over the neighborhood and everything is still
and at times I could see no stars or even the moon in the sky,
or even a lonely light’s solitary eye
while slowly the dark hours creeps on
and on the wind I hear a child’s forsaken cry.
At times it feels as if every kind of heat and brightness is gone
as if in this great big world I am the only one
and on such nights I do wonder about life and the meaning of it all
when even my body and heart feels as cold as stone
but then suddenly the early morning does come
and again this big old world feels like my home.
Satish Verma, 2 july 2015
Breaking the path
by random steps, you move,
and thoughts make a ritual dance.
In a wingless flight,
a cosmic gloom envelops you.
You try to stop the dark tremors,
Yet you don’t feel safe in a crowd.
Life has changed
it does not touch the younder.
The brain does not work,
and memory is not authentic.
Emotions are bruised,
and time is becoming ruthless.
Knowledge explodes the myths,
and hurls the naked truths.
In a corner of my heart, a song dies
I refuse to listen, I decline to see,
a world crumbling before my eyes.
My unbeliefs engage,
the intense poetry,
of my turbulent mind,
to understand the virulent pain.
Michel Galiana, 2 july 2015
I: in Motreff
1. The young man declared one day
As his house he was leaving
- I will go round to Motreff,
It will be entertaining:
For I am going on my way
To pass where Sweetheart should stay.
My heart pounds and my thoughts stray
At her silver glances! (twice)
2. - Good day, good day, my sweetheart
Good day to you I'm saying
I have seen your door afar,
That I cannot help cheering.
- Sir, you carry along with you,
Loads of compliments, you do!
Pretty speech is a thing to
Which I never object! (twice)
3. - When I was staying at home
I did visit you daily.
More faithful than I was none
But you would make fun of me.
I was as faithful to you as
Is the nightingale that has
Its perch on the branch of haw-
Thorn and sings its ditty. (twice)
4. - Chaffinch, and nightingale
Are birds that stay most freely
Amongst the leaves of mount and dale,
Each of them a homebody,
But if you care to have a look
At all the birds in a book,
No one as seriously took,
As the dove, loyalty. (twice)
5. For no one is half as faith-
ful, as the turtledove is
Who, when of its mate bereft,
At short notice deceases.
- O, this is the way I would fare
Most certainly in despair,
Should once my sweetheart so fair
Break my heart to pieces (twice)
6. - How could it be, say, young man
That with me you were angry?
Would you not come to Melan,
To Melan to be with me?
- To Melan, for sure, I would go,
But not to tell you "hello!"
Since, my lass, so far I know,
We shall never marry. (twice)
7. - What grounds, tell me, have you got
For such foolish assumption?
No reason why you should not
Come and see me in Melan.
- I'll go to Melan, certainly
But I shall return quickly
You may choose anybody
To be your companion. - (twice)
II: in Caraix
8. 'T was on Nativity day
Of the Virgin Saint Mary;
To the Pardon on my way
I saw her quite abruptly,
I edged my way to her side
I had no reason to hide,
And whatever might betide,
We were to speak frankly. (twice)
9. - What a surprise, our young man
Made up his mind to see me!
That you did bother to come
About that I'm uneasy:
Because I am not allowed to
Marry this year, so that you,
In case you had come to woo
Should give up the idea. (twice)
10. - Why should I give up an i-
dea that's but your own notion;
Chains of love that used to tie
My heart to yours are broken.
That's why I have come back again
For a walk in your domain:
Just a lily shall remain
There, and it's you, maiden! -(twice)
11. First time when I said "adieu"
To a lass, was in Carhaix.
Down her cheeks tiny tears flew,
Lost joy in darkest array,
The time for parting had come now,
For regret did not allow.
Which the lass refused to know
Before I flew away.
Translated from the Breton
Michel Galiana, 1 july 2015
The young man
1. I chose a charming lover,
And she was my next neighbour,
How fine!
I had decided to go and visit her
In the night!
She was asleep, as I came: a dreadful plight! -
The girl
2. - At my door who is knocking?
There is no such awful thing
As noise!
Resting at night is a thing a girl enjoys! -
The young man
3. - "Your wooer and your suitor,
Your most passionate lover,
Is here
Who wants to be by your side tonight, my dear."
(Then, ashamed of his own words:)
4. Quickly, off I have taken
My cap. Inside an oven
I've hid.
Did she see me? I doubt that she could know me
If she did:
This her great amount of suitors should forbid!
5. Off I ran to the river
The path was altogether
Narrow,
Further downward was a bridge that was awkward,
And so low!
Heels over head I fell! The place was shallow.
6. A nightingale that gazed
At me, and had a blaze
On its brow!
Many a word it said, but the saucy bird
On the bough,
It did not help me, but it scoffed at me now! -
The nightingale
7. - A girl under a bed sheet
That you fondle is great treat,
It's true!
Flirting with eels in the brook is great fun too!
8. Should come round Willie the wolf,
Whom would he care to engulf,
But you?
Not a rest cure, to go wenching or to woo! -
The young man
9. - The stars that high up twinkle
They wait for your chant, fickle
Fellow!
Pay court to them, leave me alone here below! -
The nightingale
10. - Unfortunate bird, never
Did I harm whomsoever ,
In life,
Nor shall I do! Don't tell me your tale of woe!
11. You'll spend a good night, I'm sure!
To meet you was a pleasure,
For me!
I am like a fisher woman who prays the
Rosary
When fishing, always on the alert to be. -
Translated from the Breton
Gert Strydom, 1 july 2015
(in answer to Riana maiden name Marais (Strydom) Kruger)
A large golden moon hangs
above the row of jacarandas in the avenue
and when I see it, it is so near
that it feels as if I can get pieces of it
and now your promises comes back to me
that you will stay at my side
even though weeks, months and years go by
but without you the moon keeps turning in its orbit
and promises of love that last eternally
I can now forever forget
just as the heat of your heart and body
as for me nothing is written in the planets
and I can find no promises in the stars
when the branches of the trees move around in the wind
and it seems as if the stars are jumping
but still I do wonder what the new day is gong to bring
and even if I could discover the most heartfelt secrets of the moon
it would not bring you closer to me.
Reference:
“Full moon by Riana maiden name Marais (Strydom) Kruger” (My own translation)
“A Golden and silver moon
.hangs on a karee branch in my avenue.
When I look through the window
I can almost reach to it.
I can almost touch it,
almost, almost catch it.”
“Long ago you did promise
that you would bring me
the sun and moon and stars.
What is written in the planets tonight…
longing for the heat of your body?”
“Chorus”
“If I could attach the moon
to a chain around my neck
then forever I would be able to discover its secrets,
would be able to hold it against my heart
and I would be able to fold my empty arms around it.”
“Like lost promises
the silver rays fall into a water puddle.
The man in the moon is only a dream
that sometimes fills my days and nights of grief.”
“Just a dream, just a dream.”
B.Z. Niditch, 30 june 2015
Unknown words
seep in your ears
but like Van Gogh
a painter shapes
his thimble of fears
a poet is often unaware
of hieroglyphics
until his symbols
of his enigma
become the grammar
of his poem's lyrics.
B.Z. Niditch, 30 june 2015
Outside the squirrels
hide in the leaves
of Evergreen branches
on the hillside
a solitary singer
offers her blue Monday
tune in a raindrop
moistened by the language
planted from her tongue,
it is a time of morning silence
when our initials
are hung over
by the summer rosebushes
on a rubbed-out signature
in pure gestured breathless fire
the wind rushes to the memory
of a young poet's nature
in the wilderness woods
dressed by a motionless hour
near passer-by processions
of soccer stars on summer floats
along the corner
as a child with a new compass
wishes to be easily assured
to live in tourist pictures
from a pretense and charade
on a cash in Hollywood
and Vine lines delivered by
finely dressed actors for hire
on Los Angeles admired time.
B.Z. Niditch, 30 june 2015
July 2
1923-2012
Words aglow
even as you sleep
in spilled out memory
we recollect
your pocket poems
in our ringed memory
from secrets,wonder,voices
we have to love
with no hours to lose
when you open our secrets
from your nature's language
and tomorrow in Warsaw
the birds will be out
sunning themselves
in your house's ledge
returning to their shadows
and the four winds
of you translated in silence.