Gert Strydom, 11 june 2014
Every morning her windows are washed clean
and they reflect the garden
in bright pieces of glass
and even the clouds disappearing in the distance.
Gardenia, jasmine and pomegranate
reflect the colours, the beauty
of her lovely face
and every sunny day
you will find her with fingers in the ground
when she prays for the first spring rain to come
as she is a nature child
and around her lawns of green grass dazzle.
She has caught a small world in her hands
and a straw-hat against the sun hangs low against her eyes.
Gert Strydom, 10 june 2014
There is a seashell that on a time I want to give to you
wherein you can continually find the presence of the sea,
and it’s something with the echo of the sea
and it roars on sunny days and during the stormy wind
and I wish that just like this
I could hold you to my ear
while we are apart from each other
and can feel how your arms embracing me.
Gert Strydom, 10 june 2014
At the robot light I see a child
in dirty clothes and his hair blown by the wind,
his cheek is swollen from toothache
and where he is begging I wonder if he is going to find any help?
The old man near to the bridge has lost his job
at the Aurora goldmine
and he is grey but his arms looks strong
and I wonder what kind of hope he has?
At another place an old lady is standing and she tells about her daughter,
that she is suddenly pregnant
and she is confesses sing about her own life
where she is counting the few coins that she gets from people
and I look at a world that is falling apart
with jobless poor strugglers almost without number
and how long I ask the God of the universe
when pistol shots ring out down at the Checkers chain store.
Satish Verma, 10 june 2014
I was ready to board the ship
laden with terror on mortal waves.
The patriarch was dying inside
the sleeve of hidden rocks.
Hope and death,
death and hope
flicker in dark. What if the blasts
start again in the cool air?
The planks lick the salt of earth.
Lipless mouths cannot speak.
Departure of sun was blameless,
unanswerable to human wails.
Satish Verma
Talat Jehan, 9 june 2014
When we are forced to follow and choose the journey without their destination..
When we are pushed to walk barefooted and with wounded feet..
When we don't have choices..
When we don't have alternatives..
When clouds of uncertainty and disappointment are all around us..
But still we have to walk in a dark..
When we finally reached the door of our destiny..
But there is no key to open and enter that door..
We think we are hopeless and reached a point of no return..
Gert Strydom, 9 june 2014
At times I wonder where her thoughts go
if of my loving, caring and commitment
she really truly knows
or is there a kind of excitement,
in lashing out pain and verbal blows
and then when I am broken and spent,
she carries on as if nothing has happened while my tears flow
and yet our feelings are brighter
than all the stars set in the skies
my love is much more pure and whiter
than any new pluck lily or rose
and I wonder if she knows
about my silent cries,
when she brings pain to our goodbyes?
Gert Strydom, 9 june 2014
In the morning when I draw my eyes to slits against the bright light
there is magic
that the new morning brings
while I know that I am really living
and I see the butterflies already fluttering on the breeze,
hear birds of which the songs of joy penetrates the soul
and every bee, even the smallest thing
are busy with a praise song.
When dew on the branches are still shining like diamonds
and the sun glitters with every ray in filigree
there are flowers opening their cups
and even though my life at times feels bitter
and this kind of living feels like only a curtailed existence
I do know that I serve an omnipotent God.
Gert Strydom, 9 june 2014
Where you stand with the garden hose
a seed plume whirls
all around us on the afternoon breeze
and it waits hanging for moments,
bright water shoots through your thumb
and I wonder how many days do remain
to be so perfect when we are together?
Satish Verma, 9 june 2014
Taut flesh of toxic seductress
comes out of the skin,
rolls in the dream.
A century buries the neck of God
and creates the words
of unbroken greed for useless faith.
A path stuns the sharp thorns.
Nothing would stop the seeker,
he has to annihilate the rival.
Somebody takes an aim
at the dancing egos
and brings down the marvel.
The bitter feud continues, between
stars and moon.
The molten lava moves like a snake.
Satish Verma
Scott Clark, 9 june 2014
Mean as stirred grit,
reach in
and pick none of it,
Load bullets,
Frick it.
Its just grit.
Don't need this... shit!
Or that... to wit,
just my bullets,
Power slivers,
make ya shiver,
and dem quiver.
They will deliver
Believe me,
you'll see....
Pea!
…...................BANG!!!!
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