Gert Strydom, 29 may 2014
My Lord, today I do realize
that sin is a living reality,
that iniquity is present in my whole being
as if a union with the darkness
is hardwired in me from the beginning.
I ask You to come and live in my heart
and that You do become a living reality to me,
that you show me Your presence in the small things
and that You do shower Your blessings over my life,
that I can see Your presence daily
so that You do become much more than just a maybe.
Gert Strydom, 29 may 2014
Your penetrating glance does silence my words
when it goes far beyond the surface
and here I have got to deviate from my own will
when you take me to an unknown space of time,
to a place where people still believe in love
and do swear true to each other for eternity,
even do reach past every inability,
to find something much greater
than the pain coming through the years,
and where I do learn to again try and trust.
Satish Verma, 29 may 2014
A nebula rises unfazed after fission:
after a fractured debate, greed crouching on
the wrinkled noses of rugged bouncers.
In remote history someone was burning itself out.
A black eye surges forward, sings an ode to
championship. Ankles swell up. Veins become
jelly. The thyme is absent. Stink bellows on
your faces. The green pond becomes red; tragedy of wounds.
Speaker in bloody silence quotes the black sun
out of despair. Everything was in disarray.
In mating of souls flesh flew in rage;
a pink river swamped the inmates of tomorrow.
Enough! Time marches on the dead leaves of sorrow.
My candle burns at both ends. Alien moons
keep a watch. Bloodlines are obliterating. We
seek the graves of unknown soldiers!
Satish Verma
Aurora, 28 may 2014
Two minutes of sweet dreaming
my empty casket is your broken bed
a long time I have waited
and now we can finally be wed
I touch your skin
when your eyes have fallen
sweet slumber
I draw you in my mind
like a caricature of eve
yet your nakedness does not ashame me
but through harmony
I breathe your irridescent soul
that floates between my enemies
so that I shall always be focused on your goal
to be reminded that love is hate
and we are but one
the sun and the moon together
forever we hum
and sing the humans to sleep
if only for them to awake
as they walk between the cycles
you my love will make
the womb of the earth cry for mercy
to be felt inside your mind
creator of light
creator of all
creator of the blind
Let them not scare you
let them not feel dread
of what marvellous wonderous things that you have seen
and are yet to understand until we are wed
For I shall keep on waiting
and protecting your door
your sweet soul is mine for ever
within my heart which they call the earths core
Let not them scare you
for they do not understand
that the sweet words that you write
were long before planned
and like a piano you create
the composure of the soul
so what they think they are reading
is actually the opposite of the pole
For even the brightest minds
will let you in with their ways
so help them understand the knowledge of platonius
as a beginning to their new golden days
Hum with me hum with me
save your song for only my ears!
For like a foetus i will be within you again
in less than a thousand years
But what is a year
to us of the unknown
but a sweet freckle on a childs skin,
forgotton and of the wrong tone.
But alas it is still a kiss
from gods most powerful bliss
of heat that gives and takes away
alas a year is but a day!
I must leave you again
but please feel me so deep
for you are my everything
please no longer weep.
Aurora, 28 may 2014
Fluttering advocations
of a suicidal nation.
Promisingly I renounce
my utter distaste
that I had acquired
from the irritant taste
of bitter memories.
So sweet do I renounce!
that I urge you to bake me your
finest pastry
so that I may feel but just an ounce
of that sweet dough you call a bossom
beneath your silk - so divine
My pearl, oh I do not care
for fancy and folly
to watch slaves become hereos
when I'm with my polly
"susanna" "hosanna"
what is a name to a flower?
but a short instance of breath
one that could never gasp for such beauty
that is bequeathed by that which is unseen
you are my rose of gold
my rose of ever-lasting fortune
the sweet fortuned is entirely yours
for the only true prospect of heaven
is that which hides in your minds dresser-draws
Alas! let us not speak
for wandering eyes
dare to peak
at words that speak of history bygone
For you may be the answer to everything
but you are to the world only to belong
And so amongst sea urchins
I hide beyond the near
gaping tunnels of illusion
the ones that most will fear
I shall speak to you through your fingers
on a plastic speaker board
only so that one day you might remember
how close you are to the lord.
jolka (Jolanta Steppun), 28 may 2014
nie opowiem ci
jak to jest
kiedy z dnia na dzień traci się miłość
wiarę w przyjaźń
a wszędzie panoszą się wspomnienia
moja niemoc zamyka usta
Stephen J. Vattimo, 28 may 2014
What was the crown of thorns fore ?
Why was it hammered to Jesus' brow ?
Like forcing a nail through a piece of wood.
Was it a badge of mockery toward the Jewish leaders?
Fore pressing Pilate to crucify a man he proclaimed to fine no fault there in.
What was the crown of thorns fore ?
Was the crown of thorns Mother Nature's representative ?
For she needed to be redeemed from the cruse of sin.
Redeemed from suffering under the Agents of Darkness ,Devour,Destruction,Decay.
Just as the first man Adam through the act of disobedience ,sold Mother Nature into slavery.
To The ownership of The Archangel of deception,insurrection, and Devourer of Souls.
Mother Nature Was purchased out of slavery by God,and she will be set free from the presence and power of the Prince Of The Power Of The Air.
Fore the purchase price to set Mother nature free ,
was for the sinless Son Of Man,The Son Of God,to wear the Crown of thorn on His brow.
while out of perfect obedience to the Father ,
He was offering his life on the cross as a ransom to purchase sinful man back to God.
This is why Jesus wore The crown of thorns .
.
Written By Stephen J. Vattimo Sept 30 2012
Satish Verma, 28 may 2014
A fugitive chameleon sits on my window sill
daily, ceding the space horizon to thickness
of delusion; wants to decimate the infamous
rotting image of man, shining everyday in lush
damaging gossips. A perfect imperfection of treachery
to attack the hapless blade of grass who cannot
stand erect in a gale of glory of tall trees.
The star-glint overwhelms a prophet of dust.
A goddess enters the labyrinth of anthologies.
The smile that sets to sail a thousand slogans-
flies from infinity to the branches of flesh.
And the rivals collapse like dark alchemy
without qualms, naked and speechless.
Satish Verma
Greg, 27 may 2014
As death knocks at my front door
I cower behind a computer
Like six bits of shit and vermin
Recoiled by the slightest sting
You come about on the meadow
And send your ennui in to me
Like a deadly syringe
Of monotony and schedule
Of tone deaf laughter
And abominable taste
The lowest disgrace
Of exacted anguish
That relates myself to me
As your lovely face
In my premature ejaculatory phase
I writhed in the sheets of discomfort
And woke up to find the pain
More deeply than I could honor
So I turned unholy
And let the shadows eat my soul
As neurotic complexion
Devouring each and every morsel
Of child hood joy and golden light
Left inside this repugnant soul
I could redeem
But here I shall not
Gert Strydom, 27 may 2014
(after W.H. Auden)
They had fled from him,
some for their lives from his sight,
had fled from his might
and now it felt only like an interim
as with his bloody big machines
he had turned against himself, trying to destroy his kind
and suddenly there was light that shines
naturally and no sign of him they could find
and it was a day of rest as there had never been
with beauty and tranquillity that went on and on
and they thought that man would never again be seen
that he and his implements were forever gone
but the fun had only just begun when a shot rang out
and a man appeared with a gun, using it clear and loud.
[Reference: “The Sabbath” by W.H. Auden.]
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