Gert Strydom, 30 october 2013
At church square he stands just in front of the steps
and the statue of old uncle Paul
with a guitar in his hand
in a torn dirty jean
and the wind flutters the old washed-out shirt
of the curly head blonde singer
and he looks dumbfounded.
He notices people walking past
to offices, busses and cars
(and some of them are chatting)
and only a few does notice him,
leave silver
and even a bank note in his hat.
In his memories he goes back
to a time with food in the house
and his mother and father that did love each other,
to a time when life was still simple and free
and his eyes catch a bolt of lightning
that flashes blue-white in an open sky
and he wonders if it is later going to rain
while he plays and sings a sad song.
Satish Verma, 30 october 2013
Let it be, a dawn prayer,
dripping with fantasy
intercepting the strip-search of soul
tempting a mad psyche.
The sleeping volcano was going to celebrate,
put the sign on.
Perfectly shineless hands will raise
the banner to donate kidneys, eyes and heart
to the broken star, who on the name of book
was sending the empty cadaver on ivory car,
a saviour from carnage, to mimic
a divine touch.
Why are they playing with flames of summer?
Poor minutes were sinned, the centuries
will suffer now. On the green leaves
a nightingale lies bleeding!
Satish Verma
Anthony DiMichele, 30 october 2013
adolescence
the last level for us
destroyers
our calling is in the ashes
kill this world
of uniformity
when you're asked for solutions
scoff
it's not your job
*
Alicja Kuberska, 29 october 2013
Emerged from the depths of chaos
mother of sky, mountains, sea, man.
She wove the thread of life
from many intimately linked elements.
We are one big family.
and depend on each other
- humans, plants, animals.
We share a common destiny.
Man belongs to the Earth
and is a small part of the weave.
Harming the soil, flora or fauna
he condemns himself to death in solitude.
Gert Strydom, 29 october 2013
Where the heat in the grey karoo throws hazy waves
I had to stop at a time with a flat tyre
and in the karee-bushes I only noticed one sheep
while around me the ground was dusty red
but still this scene was beautiful
with a windmill turning screaming and knocking,
the other sheep drinking at a dam
and an old farm house did complete the picture.
In that desolate land I could hear the voice of God
where the scene stretched into the distance,
with only here and there a tree breaking the monotony
and there I did loose the conceit of my youth,
burned the scene into my mind before I had to leave
and felt the grass-seeds jutting into my socks.
Gert Strydom, 29 october 2013
Suddenly the arrival of spring is not disguised
when wild flowers are blooming over the hills and dales
and the signs are suddenly everywhere
that live sometimes does astound.
There is heat coming back into the sun,
on the breeze is the fragrance of falling rain
and in the distance at times blue-white flashes roar
when the first fruit trees starts to flower.
In the whole world there is rejoicing
and where my life at a time was empty
You did also walk on the road ahead
and like spring Your works is in everything
when all of life in my maturity fits together
and continually buds out like spring.
Satish Verma, 29 october 2013
Even the sleeping genes learn
from their crashes with needles in eyes.
A candid house chooses to fade
after thinning of a blessing.
Legacy of a heretic
lives, dragging down the cracked joints
of a frozen mirror. The wild lips kissing
a tiger on mouth in black night of dancing spirits.
The raging bull decides to goad a raped
girl on white daisies of abandoned bed. All
the dead hunters start cheating the bandages
of a wheelchair, the trembling asteroids
start dispersing in cryptic dark. The world
ends with a kill, mourners lay wreaths and hand
out the cyanide capsules for future onslaughts
on the waking eyes.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 28 october 2013
At a time I wanted to flee away from you
but the remembering continually catches up with me
and your summer laughter resounds in my ears,
your heart beats in my blood
and from love nobody can escape
or even walk away
and it’s as if you are a part of me
and later this afternoon when you walk in the door
I will be happy to see you,
we will talk about the things of the day,
together wonder about the things of tomorrow
and at dusk we will see the evening star.
Gert Strydom, 28 october 2013
I deeply treaded into your trap
and when I was in it
I did not want to escape and could not
as your arms were around me
and your lips were upon mine
and it was dangerous territory
were shots at times were fired
and words at times left holes like bullets.
On the borderline somewhere between love and hate,
we found each other as those that are wounded
and we could talk for hours
where in the long grass we did take cover
and at times we stood in the shadows of trees
to rest for moments, to hide in each other,
to look at the bright great white moon
and while enemies, lions
and female tigers were sneaking past
we tried to hide further from the barrage of fire,
from bouncing bullets of the good intentions of others
and we fled through an overflowing river
and almost drowned in it
and now that your arms are around me
I have nowhere to go and I am missing
in your love, your humanity and your body.
Satish Verma, 28 october 2013
Crossing the hate walls,
turning up the severed moon in stunning
landscape, you scatter the rose petals on ice.
One day I will find your frozen footsteps
of self-denial.
Now he has made the lines of stem cells free
for nymphs. Double helix will make the new Barbie dolls.
The cruel thing builds the dredged gravel difficult
to swallow on a price. I don't have bricks to
make a house of love.
His picture now hangs in the street. The
white smile no longer sails to wrestle with sun.
Stark naked, my luck now grips the black rock
of golden sleep. I will come back with
new moonrise.
Satish Verma
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