Gert Strydom, 22 september 2014
People conceive me as overly assertive,
making a stand in adversity,
the motor-biking, parachuting daredevil,
ex-soldier who is wilful, headstrong
and who will take the government,
or anyone on,
and on defending my poetry,
I have even being told
that I need psychiatric care,
must wait until a car kills me in on the freeway,
a established mayor Afrikaans poet have said
that I am selling my soul
for the wishes of my readers,
that my poetry is extreme poor,
written faster than anyone can type,
and totally without workmanship,
that I have not advanced
beyond high school level yet,
I have been told that I am politically incorrect,
that I am spreading hate speech
while I have been exposing the very truth,
while inside I want peace from adversity,
a chance to live a life in tranquillity,
to earn a fair and decent living,
to have a place like everyone else in the sun,
to write poems in any way that I want to,
to use rhyme or free verse
or any other kind of poetic form,
and I am constantly trying new forms,
am constantly trying to sharpen my skills,
I am constantly trying
to become a better person and poet.
Satish Verma, 21 september 2014
No cure seems to work.
Between absurd and wise,
Lone he walks.
It is a note on the timidness
of a star, which couldn’t come near the earth.
On the slope of a crater, a boulder
stopped it.
No laughter seems to amuse him,
sullen and depressed,
lone he walks.
Genes take a giant leap,
he could not break the fall.
Brick by brick the fort crumbles,
a black halo fills the canvas.
Now carnations will not bloom,
and time will die with the clocks.
Lone he walks.
Duplicity was the word or tragedy,
Transparency got mutilated.
some of the sufferings could not come to the surface.
Both waves and boat collapsed,
Lone he walks.
Satish Verma
Bipurna Tara, 20 september 2014
“Cut away the old tree
The waste of land,
The waste of money.
Plant new one .”
His eighties grandpa
Looks at him doubtfully.
Whom he scolded?
Satish Verma, 20 september 2014
Give me some time
to live, with the possibility
of oscillating between temporal and spiritual feel.
I have already exhausted my age
behind the spiked doors.
I was longing
to meet myself today,
to find the throw back.
Which of me was real?
An antique bird feeding on honeydew?
Or a honed up desert hurricane?
A tremendous impact with retribution
pulls down the unbowed towers.
But the spirit screams in dark
and a light glows from the debris
true to seal the kisslock of death.
The century will still march forward
arranging the years in neat rows
at burial ground of memory.
The walls are still standing.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 19 september 2014
Long before I had experienced strive,
a force unknown
when I was young in life took my own thoughts,
suddenly grown;
not from sin or a search of fame it came
in words full blown
as a constant companion in my life,
more cruel and dear to me than any wife.
Gert Strydom, 19 september 2014
Very early when I did rise this morning,
I saw the morning star glisten white
and my thoughts went to you
when the twilight was much whiter
and I tried to catch your smell, the heat in the bed for the last time,
but you were gone
and I was trying to resist death
but your presence lingers and nothing turns out right
and when I get your fragrance I realise that you are bound to me.
Satish Verma, 19 september 2014
Going to shake my inner world.
Inconsolable is the loss
of faithful truth.
Echo of past comes between the knockings,
some one shoves a semblance of a riot,
death is not a ceremony any more.
Slowly, dark breast of night
will feed the moon.
Air will kiss the lips of fire
and loneliness will take over the heart.
Not sure of the pattern, and my existence
first I must look beyond the self
and find out the forbidden belief.
I think I don’t trust myself.
From the smouldering psyche
the muse always runs out
falling between vision and confusion.
Sweet ephemeral strife
always in toe.
Satish Verma
Joe Breunig, 18 september 2014
As noted by Socrates,
an unexamined life
is not worth living;
as a disciple of Christ,
I’ve decided to adopt…
His lifestyle of giving.
Humanity’s selfishness
needs to be subdued daily,
for we need each other;
regardless of opinions,
we’re still God’s offspring
as sisters and brothers.
From embracing The Word,
we go forth as ambassadors,
since Truth we must tell.
For an unexamined life
keeps one unwittingly on…
the unmarked road to Hell.
Author Notes
Loosely based on:
Matt 7:13-14, 19:26, 28:16-20;
John 6:45; Eph 5:1-2
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Nipuni Shashirangani, 18 september 2014
I have been alone
With fear and sadness
Forbidden from the world
I have travelled many hours to
Find a place
A place of my own
“A Little Space”
In cold and sleepless nights
I looked at the sky
Searched behind
Stars and the moon
Every time, everywhere
For a place of my own
“A Little Space”
Which I never thought there it is
Inside of me
A place of my own
“A Little Space”
Gert Strydom, 18 september 2014
In the depths of a grim winter when life
felt desolate
there was a fluttering, a twittering
at the front gate
when chilly the wind rocked the big trees;
I could not wait
to go to look and see what made that sound
and a little weaver sang to all around.
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