Gert Strydom, 8 september 2014
Your beauty constantly astounds me
when your loveliness
embraces my life, shadows linger,
and with nobleness
you do become far more than just my princess,
oblivion
falls over the past when we laugh together
and I do yearn for another kiss from you.
Gert Strydom, 8 september 2014
When the early the morning does begin
and you arise
my lady, the first doves do happy sing,
while the dew lies
on your garden’s most pretty flower cups
and in your eyes
with greatest joy golden the sun does shine;
then forever I want you to be mine.
Satish Verma, 8 september 2014
I woke up clutching the dreams
in deluge of tears.
Night had a brackish taste,
the other side of moon was dark.
One by one the stars were dying
ideas were no longer candles in gale.
The final thought of liberation demanded
a tribute to partners in revolt.
I wanted a sunlit corner
in the blighted sky of hopes.
Instead of scorched impulse of a mob
injured truth, walking alone.
Give me a bitter fruit of certainty.
I don’t want to loose myself in fogs.
The truth must meet the lie-
alone, in woods of craft.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 7 september 2014
The wind writes a name on the clouds
and sun wipes out the letters.
This game continues daily.
coming into life after every death.
Exhausted I want to believe
and make up my mind to go
for a new birth.
The resentment has accumulated
all the life
against the futility of winning a race.
In the end you reach no where.
A void impossible to fill.
The years monitored, lay waste
something to die.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 september 2014
I was not capable of
contradicting the quietness.
A silent emotion was insulting me.
Forgetting the self-denial
I went for choosing the impossible.
Am I sick of myself?
The agony overwhelms me with mystic relief.
Here and now I feel the human spirit
outsmarting the gifts of revenge
in the eyes of past.
No hope of breeze. It is hot inside,
the spirit burning. False peers
were scoring with debts of darkness.
Tiny ideas crowd the mind
flying straight through the mist of anguish
I elect to be nothing.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 september 2014
I must not go beyond sunset
to discover the consciousness of night,
Standing alone on a cliff
I was ready to jump for salvation
atoning for guilt of survival.
My regret was time
and timeless suffering.
Where was the maturity of age?
Mind must go for the beloved ones
for a virginal touch of flawless blaze.
They should have come to join the prayer
not for me, but for the dying sun,
and white valley of fears.
Half my tongue sings for the shade
and half I cry mutely.
Satish Verma
Joe Breunig, 4 september 2014
I’m casting my cares upon You,
while praying throughout the day.
I’m thankful for our relationship
and the Love of Your sacred sway
that permeates my entire being.
For I’ll keep on talking to You,
discussing the issues of my life,
since You will bring me through
safely by Your divine guidance.
In You alone, faith is entrusted,
as this analytical mindset of mine
had been vigorously readjusted.
Knowing that You’re everywhere,
I’ll remain… unceasing in prayer!
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Psa 42; 1 Thes 5:16-18; 1 Pet 5:6-7;
John 16:13; Eph 3:16
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Satish Verma, 4 september 2014
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.
Satish Verma
Azhar alam, 4 september 2014
Aksar waqt ki Aasara me halaat badal jate hain
Insaan ke jazbaat me alfaaz badal jate hain
Pade na Kadam zameen pe bulandi pe ja pahuncha
Wahi toot kar ek din sare bazaar bikhar jate hain
Satish Verma, 3 september 2014
A useless space between the sentences,
ghastly story does not end in black and white.
Again the heart cries.
I keep on knocking on the doors
and then return to blackness.
Sometimes people become insects.
Cockroaches, ants and spiders,
weaving their webs and hills,
crawling, creeping, clawing.
Flesh eaters. Pouncing upon hapless victims.
Depression. I am devastated.
Something churns in breast, dousing the spirit, lines and words.
Cannot sit quiet. Agoraphobia. Don’t want to talk.
Somewhere a name crops up. Saint or beast.
Under the trees there is no shade. I walk barefoot.
Hungry dogs chasing the flies.
Humidity fills the eyes.
Silence of the night.
City has stopped running.
All the dead will speak now.
Not asking any revenge,
but peace for the living people.
Satish Verma
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