Satish Verma, 14 january 2014
Lovers of death were on prowl:
nothing was finished.Smart words
were bouncing back. Quotes by the fire
had stripped down the carnage. More
bombs in courtyard and hope was confronting
death. Few branded names were causing
rift in the ranks and I must forget
about the waterboarding too.
After the outrage you would not trust
them to govern themselves. The towns were
still sleeping accustomed to the knocks
on the doors. The water birds were not
coming this winter. Smoke and fire. Sound
and fury with flashbacks of flood of red streams.
I was tumbling down beyond challenge.
With message of menace they will do no wrong!
SATISH VERMA
Naeem, 13 january 2014
The beauty in the essence of wrath
that rises from the deepest core;
engulfs the blackest of all paths;
tears through fear and fills with lore.
Then, mind is set to be lost in freedom.
Forever it seems for there exist no doom;
a place where light expresses no verse.
A gift we grasp yet no more than a curse!
-Nr.
Satish Verma, 13 january 2014
A terror of alikeness looms
like stricken birds, incenerated in split seconds.
You smell the burning flesh in an air blitz.
Nearing endgame a conceptual hate
is jettisioned in sky. You start collecting
the fragments of life.
Words start jumping. You refuse to accept
more than the want. And yet a finite
listening was absent. And the secret kennel
in the dead child fails to sprout. The toys
and dreams lie unattended on birthday
of the nation. A monogamous judge ascends
to heaven.
Any durable peace on the way? Unruffled
you are still in freezing water. The boat
is half-submerged and tears are burning
the deck. No wrinkles. The fish nod
their fins for the final plunge.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 january 2014
A fragile pistillum sways to conceal
the sperms in pestle. Unilaterally fired salvos
were increasing. After the dig, bodies in the
debris were popping up daily. There
was no truce for brothers in arms. Struggling
to hold on the humanism, anger was rising
from the white paper.
A sense of lost is weaponized. There is
a mix of solemnity and hurt. Pacemaker was becoming
a slave, will not respect cadence. Obscurity
must take refuge. The golden lined clouds
were enduring the sun.A howitzer fires at moon.
It was time to find the anchor, shoving aside
the mortgage of life.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 11 january 2014
Was there any option left?
Violence was there,
evil existed in pacifism.
Signature flora demonstrates
the mental poise.
I call for the imperfections.
In blue mood, I kill the moon
and take a walk on the cinders.
Will you give me a hand?
There was no path left,
but the trees were walking on beach.
The war will never end
between the genders. The
secret of butterfly catcher
was buried long ago.
From a childhood into the -
forest of lies, it was a long
journey losing the scents.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 10 january 2014
I remember your green-brown eyes
innocently finding mine,
how your mouth noticeable did twitch
and how totally blinded
I thought that you were an angel
and unaware of the church
for half an hour looked at you.
Satish Verma, 10 january 2014
A marble calm under the shaky gaze
was parsing the human pain. I would
lift the calculated grief from folded earth.
You feel badly bruised and racial war
becomes anathema. Past the age eyesight dwindles,
cannot identify the faces of dead.
O my God! Bizarred bloated eyes filled
with blood were groping for the fallen walls.
Who had dug the garden with grenades?
A theme hunger separates the hearts. When
desert was the bed for daughters and sons,
the fathers were shaking with hate.
The shine wears off the love. A different world
under the lids. Miracle does not happen.
We were searching for the doors.
Satish Verma
Joe Breunig, 9 january 2014
Can the pain of human suffering
prevent me from being made whole?
How should I properly express
the inner dimensions of my soul?
Can the depth of my understanding
reach that of King Solomon’s intellect?
How often must I pray to receive
answers from the Divine architect?
Thankfully, my Lord is merciful,
gracious and patient with me;
for I carefully consume His Word,
wanting these blind eyes to see.
The treasure of Your Word’s worth
for me and my life will never depart.
O my Lord, I desire to do Your will,
for Your principles are… within my heart.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Psa 40:9, 103:8-9; 1 Kin 3:1-15; Jam 1:4-5
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
Insatiable Sohail, 9 january 2014
I wish I could walk on the long beach all alone.
Where all my sadness would flow.
The noisy waves keeps my inner loudness silent.
But the sunset cries for me all alone.
When this water touches my feet,
My soul becomes cold
And starts narrating my story once told.
Yet again but don't want to hold
Those memories which are now old.
Gert Strydom, 9 january 2014
To me you are the most precious and beautiful of women
someone that believes in me
while life comes daily with a new kind of omen
and although our love is how it ought to be
still I want to cherish you, and I want to do
the things that will make you happy
as all of my feelings are true
and you are someone really great to me.
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