Satish Verma, 1 june 2014
What that I am left with, impaled in jaws
of mantis, starting a tug of war, for the
otherness in me, seeking a bloodbath between
my poise and incestuous blue hole of black walls.
I gave you my voice, my roses. I am not afraid
of an impromptu death, but I was connected to
time-space of killing grounds of truth to save
the tears salt. I promised myself a zero gravity.
And you might take Kava kava to resolve
the conflict between round tables and square chairs.
I will go on starvation death in moon washed
landscape freezing my breath to release my soul.
Satish Verma
Bazyliszek, 31 may 2014
when i was
long time ago
i simply was
watching the time
while the wheels
round and round
now i look
through the windows
who where and why
am i
'cause no wheels
round and round
Aurora, 31 may 2014
Moths fly towards me as if guided towards the light
but little did they know, that I am the queen of the night.
Darkness prevails,
emptiness is foreworned,
smog covers your eyes
Leaving you breathless and torned
between two states of mind
between two different kinds
of women
sea men fell from ships
to be lured to the latter
but what does it matter
if you are just words and visual stimulation
I do not need any more time alone
just to give this thought some contemplation
I could be here,
I could be you
To me the sea is purple
and the sky is a jaded form of what is true.
Come closer
let me tell you more about the eye
witness to my crime
as I type sorrow on a carcass
that was sucked dry for all its blood
Mud would be an easy cop out here to rhyme
and then I could continue about my lack existence in time
But this would be all too predictable
unless you like routine
Well here is an update for mr.not there at all
the only thing positive is that I'm nearly 100 clean.
Satish Verma, 31 may 2014
For my water god I entered the wetlands.
Fog was increasing and me becoming incoherent.
The swamp throws a high tide of rolling wave
I lift the burden of bones and take a plunge in darkness.
The holy moon gives the company in yellow mood
smelling of honey and rusted-red mulberries.
A maxim inside the solitude hurts the path
where I lost my innocence for a son.
A breeze, a cloud, a beautiful sky
I carry the dust of my home wherever I go.
The wreckage was intact, past was shining.
An octopus was sending the suckers for future.
Satish Verma
Aurora, 30 may 2014
And so they fed me to the wolves
if only to watch my blood dry
and create their new earth
with no reaction, nor sigh
And so they left me to decay
amongst broken weed
in favour of their own dismay
awaiting a new seed
And so they watched me drown
hopelessly without remorse
listening to my last ever breath
waiting for a new course
And so and so and so
here I sit
fantasising once more
that lonliness is not a trait
as an illusion is a better cure
For there is no they
there is nothing
all but images and sound
profound in my mind
yet
exciting to the blind
and in my bewilderment
i have become a cyncial beast
alone on a man made mountain
as useful as bread without yeast.
Gert Strydom, 30 may 2014
Far too long I have wandered in the darkness
were blinded against Your cobalt-blue sky
and now a promise radiates out of the spring,
suddenly all of life is coming back.
Oh Lord, let I become holy in You
and forgive all of the mistakes of my youth
while Your healing pours down with the rain,
and free me from each iniquity,
make Your decrees my greatest joy.
Lord, make Your decrees my greatest joy,
before the first leaves of my life fall,
help me to live again, to be happy
even when the worst thunderbolts fall all around me,
help me to only notice Your love
to find refreshment, pure happiness,
teach me to constantly faithfully serve You,
to live with the trust of a child
before the years of old age do devour me.
Bring Your living rain to my existence
before the years of old age are able to devour me,
change the destroying stormy wind,
lead me to a companion, to the one,
who can understand me, the one who can bring happiness,
help me to find my way again,
and my poems to honour You,
help me before I die from discontent,
Lord, take notice of my life that is wandering.
Gert Strydom, 30 may 2014
(after Luis de Góngora y Argote)
I saw the prettiest girl in town
standing alone a the pier, looking at the sea
where the love of her life had drown
and from life she wished to be free
with tears in her sparkling blue eyes,
as the love of her life was gone
and days with sparkling skies
passed and still she sobbed on and on:
“leave me and let me be,
to cry alone at the sea.”
Nights and days slipped by
and day-by-day I saw her
watching the seagulls fly
clasping her hands together
and she said nothing to me
but at times her eyes caught mine
with a message in them while she kept her own company
watching the rising sun that was the colour of wine
“leave me and let me be,
to cry alone at the sea”
and I left her there in tranquillity,
wishing her to find harmony
but still in my mind
stays the girl at the sea
and now it feels as if she is beaconing me
calling every night and day
and from her voice I cannot be free
and she sounds pretty and gay:
“come to me, come to me,
I am waiting for you at the sea.”
[Reference: “La Más Bella Niña” by Luis de Góngora y Argote.]
Gert Strydom, 30 may 2014
Today you are beautiful,
more pretty than on any other day
and if you want to find fault with these words
then you do not see how I see you laugh.
Today you are lovely to me,
more noble than any flower
and on such a day I thank God
that you do surprise and astonish me at times.
Satish Verma, 30 may 2014
A silent war with oneself
devouring all the cells,
the gory remains of words
and grainy kisses of tears.
A curved hook in the mouth
to start a prayer for the freedom
from whispers of brand and labels:
liberation from the weight of testaments.
Bruised glints from the flesh dripping,
wriggle on serene rocks of resolution,
before the sin was discovered. A poem
was awarded to me for excitement.
An eye and a mirror, a gulch and a stone.
The smiles are fatal, the blood is pure.
Hot sun bakes the sand, nudges the
skull and a pal of gloom settles for eternity.
Satish Verma
Joe Breunig, 29 may 2014
We’re not to vex or grieve the Holy Spirit;
instead, we need His anointing on our lives
to spiritually achieve personal victories
and that faith in God- is continually revived.
Being rooted and established in His Love,
we can be dispensers of the Spirit’s fruit-
Manifesting these traits on a daily basis
should be behind the desire of a Holy pursuit.
Peace, Patience, Love, Goodness, Faithfulness,
Joy, Kindness, Gentleness and Self-Control
enlighten the innermost core of our existence
with God’s consummate soothing of our souls.
Having these loving characteristics instilled,
demonstrates that we are indeed… spirit-filled!
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Eph 3:14-19,4:29-30; 1 Thes 5:19; Gal 5:22-23
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
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