Gert Strydom, 1 august 2014
She broke in to me, into my life
and slowly displaced my friends,
my hobbies, even my fantasies
but in her reality
there was something tender and sweet
and it was if it was meant for us to be
much more than just friends
and we were denizens in our brand new country
where we dared for posterity
but were still totally free
from the bonding that marriage brings
and far too quickly our time together
passed before destiny tore her out of life.
Satish Verma, 1 august 2014
Watching the ascension
of half-moon from the brown hills
there was a blast in veins.
A raw hope strokes the clouds.
Starting a fire in stars,
making you blind.
Till the eyelids become heavy
with guilt, striving. Waking up
in middle of blue.
I was trying to reach you, when you
were not there,
wounding me in void.
Satish Verma
Joe Breunig, 31 july 2014
Something great is happening for me,
regardless of the situations I see;
my Lord is working behind the scene
and I have been spiritually weaned.
Walking by faith and not by sight,
insures that I sleep well at night.
Happily I enter daily into His rest,
knowing that I’m divinely blessed.
I’m often filled with peace and joy,
when sacred Scriptures are employed;
with a heart of a believer’s trust,
I overcome the pain of being concussed
in all aspects of my humble existence.
Despite hardship, I’m going the distance.
Elevating faith with a spiritual upgrade,
I pray with confidence- having been swayed
by the absolute Truth of God’s holy Word.
With a poetic voice, my soul is spurred
to write Christian verses unto my Lord,
as His strength, from my spirit is poured.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Mark 9:23; Acts 16:31; Jam 2:23;
Rom 15:13; Heb 4:3; John 11:40
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Gert Strydom, 31 july 2014
Love keeps flowering
and sometimes it comes brutally
filled with a type of energy
like revolutions over the sheets
and at other times softly and swishing in
like the tides
where you lay against me with your thighs
or through the gospels of mad hermits
I am overwhelmed by your passion
are swallowed by it.
When the sun hangs as if painted on a canvas
and I only get more and more of you
then you become a small perfumed garden around me
where lilies,
roses and the most beautiful carnations
open their cups.
Gert Strydom, 31 july 2014
We sit on a balcony
and look at the harbour, the beach
and the small town
where fishermen make their life
out of the sea,
where a few boats bob up and down
and some gulls flap against the strong wind
that makes white horses of the waves
and on you towel you are busy
to get mahogany brown
and when the sun draws level
we walk to a restaurant
that is close to the beach
to enjoy dishes of roasted fish
and some soft drinks.
Satish Verma, 31 july 2014
In a pool of blood
a face swims.
Under the boulders
there is a muffled scream.
Your private god was not there.
The space is littered with death-snacks.
Births a bloom of limbs,
stained shirts,
twisted wheels.
Dam of tears had a breach.
Stampede of legs –
abandoning the footwears.
Faces disappearing in smoke, confusion.
Road is deserted. A white pigeon lies dead
on his back, slicing the air.
Satish Verma
Ailill, 31 july 2014
A symphony of violin
strings vibrate.
The bustle buzz of a housefly
rattles and hisses up the windpipe.
Internal schisms
project a cadence
in rhythm.
In spaces between
a flock of birds
convert to
subjects and verbs;
clothing the suchness of things
with butterfly wings,
seeding the garden
with meaning.
Unity denied,
seeing with two eyes
signs that signify
waves that lap the shorelines.
Standing on higher ground
to avoid being drowned,
water seeps through
magnetic pulls of me and you.
Satish Verma, 30 july 2014
What is the relevance now
to live for a cause?
Epicenter has changed.
They were altering the human gene.
Butterflies, the lips of squealing
babies. I was very fond of monarchs,
flying in huge clouds, settling like
a drizzle on pink rose bushes.
What do you want to achieve
by cold-blooded murder of the sleek geniuses?
Death was smiling. You deny the god’s script
in the temple of your faith?
Nascent crimes are still rising
in the face of human suffering.
After the earthquake, in the rubble
we let them come, the young shoots.
Satish Verma
Tinker Bell, 29 july 2014
Someday you may understand,
A hope is in my heart
Someday you may see those eyes,
A bundle of questions unasked
Someday you may see the heart,
A lot of love, hatred and childhood
Someday you may feel,
An evergreen’s life’s need.
~For my mother
Tinker Bell, 29 july 2014
Sometimes I think of collecting smiles..
Sometimes I think I might find it under your pillow,
Or in the tea I made for you.
Sometimes I wonder If you find it
When I simply smile at you.
I find mine in your warm hugs,
When you say you love me too,
I find it in your light.
And at the doors of your heart.
~For my mother
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