Geetima Baruah Sarma, 10 october 2013
O winged ones,
You come in thousands
From distant lands
To enjoy the cool lap
Of the winter season
And enjoy your sojourn.
Don’t you feel weary
Flying across the miles?
I overwhelm with
Feelings of wonder
As I observe your unity,
Strength and splendour.
[Published in 'PoemsClub.com' on 10 October 2013]
Gert Strydom, 10 october 2013
During the last days of winter
we have planted
white Iceberg roses,
blue, purple and yellow irises,
geraniums of the F3 hybrid
and all colours of gazanias
along the palisade of the front garden
and even grass-carnations, pansies,
and Sweet Williams are already flowering
and even a bush of yesterday-today-and-tomorrow
brings a kind of beauty to what life is.
Gert Strydom, 10 october 2013
There is something great to gardening
and in these early days of spring
some birds do frolic and flutter
while others do sing
Satish Verma, 10 october 2013
Sometimes it pours like hot
drips of melted wax from a candlestick;
your migraine.
I wanted armistice.
Untangle the lies,
I am not in your firing line.
The tulips in the barrel of your gun
cannot forgive the bullets.
There will be no ceremony after the funeral.
Give a slice of blue departure
of moon to light the beach,
there was a brutal murder on the lake
among the muffled waves of protest
in the home of insanes, who were
praying for the sun to return.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 9 october 2013
(after Sir Thomas Wyatt)
She whom once did me seek flee away
and it is somewhat kind of strange to me
that something did change and she cannot stay
as if I have some kind of iniquity
while she hides behind a sweet kind of guise
and it is very strange this sad awakening
comes as a sudden kind of dim surprise
as there is much pain in the forsaking
and in the morning’s bright new day
she does continually want to be free
even the kind of music that she plays
has a kind of rebellion that I see,
when I do touch her, her arm hairs do rise
and all of this has me worried and thinking,
makes me cry right up to the red sunrise,
as there is much pain in the forsaking
and I will have her right back if I may
but that is not how things are going to be
while to another lover she is set to stray,
want to make me for her sake feel guilty
and to want her back, to stay is unwise
but terribly my heart keeps on aching
and of her intents I can just surmise,
as there is much pain in the forsaking.
[Reference: “The lover showeth how he is forsaken” “They flee from me that sometime did me seek” by Sir Thomas Wyatt.]
Gert Strydom, 9 october 2013
(after Gert Vlok Nel)
On a campus in Summerset West you did look at me
and to me you seemed more beautiful than any other girl
with the sun shining out of your eyes
and I brought you roses, about a thousand times,
tried to write poems to you
and you were in my blood, my head and body.
I did later hear
that you had lost your head on a doctor
with a child coming from that love
and stupidly I thought maybe we could start all over.
but things changed and we did separate
and forever you wanted me out of your life
until a day where your world did fall apart,
when your new husband thought that you were mad
when you did drink some pills
and on the telephone you did sound very sad.
I did later hear
that you had lost your head on a doctor
with a child coming from that love
and stupidly I thought maybe we could start all over.
You told me that you were never untrue,
your glance did fit with you beautiful words,
your body was covered by a flowery sun-dress
and at Sun City it was only you and me
and I remembered the days in the apartment in Bellville
how we did cling shivering to each other in the bedroom.
I did later hear
that you had lost your head on a doctor
with a child coming from that love
and stupidly I thought maybe we could start all over.
But on that day we did nothing
and we did not even kiss each other
and when you did smile my heart did go wild
but in your life there were more than just the two of us
and still my heart was broken.
I did later hear
that you had lost your head on a doctor
with a child coming from that love
and stupidly I thought maybe we could start all over
but with the things of women I was rather silly.
[Reference; “Beautiful in Beaufort-Wes” by Gert Vlok Nel.]
Satish Verma, 9 october 2013
Deep down thighs, unhoisted,
what was there, harvesting the sperms? At dusk
an inflorescence breaks into myriads
of fireworks, wrecked apologia,
interned unlikeness, insanity, kissing the goldenrod
to start the flow of bare grief.
I deserve no nobility, my moonscape
has a blazing truth about a shooting star
which went into a gape groaning. Somebody
is done for, for a fragile skull. The riverbed
buries the dead child in white sands.
That lump rises again. I said, I never carry
the death on my shoulders. Wrap up and play
the drums for I lost the pathways to enemie
Satish Verma
Geetima Baruah Sarma, 8 october 2013
Time waits for none,
A moment if we shun,
We'll find the difference,
Its worth, packed with chance.
It can make us or mar us,
Every second depends on us,
Whether we plan properly,
Or be idle, lazy and sleepy.
It's certainly a great healer,
Also life's best teacher,
The perfect time is the present,
To utilise it and win a present.
[Published in 'Fire bird poetry' on 7 October 2013 and 'PoemsClub.com' on 9 October 2013]
Gert Strydom, 8 october 2013
Outside a wild, warm west wind is blowing
but in the depths of your arms I did find rest.
Gert Strydom, 8 october 2013
Sometimes just for a moment your eyes do catch mine
and I am lost in their depths.
Sometimes I see small bird tracks
from the times that you do laugh
and sometimes you do smile brightly
like the summer sun.
Sometimes your eyes are turbid
as if the season of winter
does continue forever sadly,
as if the night will never again past
and sometimes your eyes are full of hope
like a new spring that does arrive
and you do change me
to also notice the bright light
in everything that has been, that is
and that has still got to happen.
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