Gert Strydom, 13 june 2014
There is ice in the wind
and here and there a flower wilts
are devoured by the ripe
and when the moon rise brightly
leaves whirl around everywhere.
Satish Verma, 13 june 2014
Sound of footfalls was drawing near;
the tiger has been set free.
In the wild landscape you need
some feverfew. Death was constantly
stalking to trade off the dolls in
lieu of sameness of the stones.
The shifting sand drips in the eyes.
Face to face we come near the blind
ruins of today, denying the questions.
Who was responsible for the dark
skulls in the ragbag and explosions
near the granite temples?
Your face was not on the poster, but
you write the lessons to interrogate
the past. The gods are not visible.
Satish Verma
Ailill, 13 june 2014
Clear as a mirror
at dawn reflecting
a rising sun.
Early morning breeze
ripples across being
awakening to storm clouds
gathering upon the horizon.
Wind picks up speed
whipping white caps
swirling to motion.
Rhythms increase with the fever
of a tabla drummer
throbbing to rhapsodic rapture
sending waves clashing,
trespassing different
modes of manifestation.
Sky darkens
pensive moods
shift tones
to murky blue.
Internal restlessness increases
with the surging of the tempest.
Long sighs melt to
raspy grasping breaths.
In frustration
the blistering brew
of bubbling blood
flares forth the froth
of frenzied flame.
Steaming sizzle.
Sky cracks
echoed by the blast
of thunder claps.
Cathartic release.
Teardrops stream
from heavens above
wind whisks
the storm clouds on.
Arisen
the turbulence is gone
yet restlessness
lingers on,
drifting to
ripples.
Silence stills
to a shimmer
of clouds strolling by.
Again
being becomes
an image of the sun.
Talat Jehan, 12 june 2014
The moment when you are punished for your sincerity, trust and love..
For your long term affection and loyalty..
Those heart aching words are like sword, which cuts you and hurts you..
You feel crushed like a flower..
You feel cursed like an evil..
Those actions buried us deep within ourselves..
You can breathe but no longer alive..
You have words but no one wants to listen and believe..
Your only friend and companion is your own silence..
Joe Breunig, 12 june 2014
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Salvation is near.
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Salvation is near.
Lift up your voice,
come lend your ears;
hear the message of Love
and joyfully rejoice!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Save us, Dear Lord.
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Save us, Dear Lord.
Soften our hearts,
teach us Your Word;
draw us closer to You;
keep us, in one accord!
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Your mercy is here.
Hosanna! Hosanna!
Your mercy is here.
Erase all fear;
cleanse my mindset;
Holy Ghost flow in me-
continually this year!
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Isa 62:11; Matt 21:9; Psa 118:26; Eph 1:13
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Gert Strydom, 12 june 2014
I am searching for a beautiful little cottage at the ocean,
for a place where at times a person can stand still
and behold the miracles of the Lord,
where waves continually break with brute force,
somewhere far away where the sky is blue
where I can rest in my years of old age,
a place that both my wife and I will love
even when the storms with the worst winds do come.
I am searching for a place where visitors are always welcome
even when they are unknown and lost,
where there is a place of rest in the wide world,
where the hurting experience of each day
grows faint and undone,
even when the floods of life do stream down.
Gert Strydom, 12 june 2014
It’s silent right through the house at daybreak
and only the songs of the birds comes through the windows
but we are closed to the outside
when the sun only peeps with its head over the horizon,
later just here and there breaks through the clouds,
our lives are tied to earlier decisions
and in the distance there are dots of boats,
the beauty of the coastal region
and a ray of sun falls over your face,
the wind rustles through the curtain and whispers
as if it’s bringing a love song to you
and I see a small vein beating against your neck,
the room is still dark with twilight
and eternally I want to save this moment.
Gert Strydom, 12 june 2014
When the moon hangs yellow-gold in the darkness
Ghoeroe will awake
and Ghaisa the rain-leopard will afraid
sneak out when the first drops pour down
and Ghoeroe the hippopotamus-bull will make the clouds thunder
while Ghaisa jumps away to far under
where flames lash out white-blue over the ridge
when we smell the rain in the wet sand.
Satish Verma, 12 june 2014
In mangled bodies
and severed limbs,
the blood gives up its claim.
A twisted window blocks the landscape
of silvered faces.
No body talks with moon.
Night burns the fat
floats on the dead mouthings.
Death has the foulest taste.
Darkness looms overnight,
very false under the lamp,
eyelids are closing.
Dirty maps unfold the mystery
of religion. The longest book
has the restless words.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 11 june 2014
I smell the fragrance of the falling rain
hear how startled the wild horses snort,
see the dust-line of the wild wind savagely
blowing sand and leaves
and hear and there it turns lingering
when thunderbolt after thunderbolt blue-white crushes down
and I see swallows circling against the dark sky,
hear turtledoves singing praises to God
and in the veldt the joy is wide
over the rain that brings new life.
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