Bob Gotti, 23 june 2013
One seed at a time in the heart, for Truth God shall impart,
Seed by seed sown in time, changes hearts by His design,
Still convicting the heart of one, avoiding God’s Only Son,
The One they say they know, yet old seed has yet to grow.
For as seed grows my friend, former ways draw to an end,
As conviction moves a heart, from those ways you depart,
For some seed may be found, not in soil, but hard ground,
With the growth very small, or there’s been no growth at all.
Some may only sow seed, for God takes care of the need,
While the Spirit of God leads, others to watering the seeds,
Watering them with Truths of God, on the soul’s fertile sod,
That sod being a man’s heart, where that seed had its start.
God grows seed in many ways, while using us all our days,
In ways we may not know, as seed about us God will grow,
As God waters with His Truth, using our life as living proof,
What He can do in one life, through seeds, sown for Christ.
God can use a simple word, to confirm what one has heard,
With a Christian life lived out, God can will a seed to sprout,
From seed planted by one, then watered by God’s own Son,
Through Christ’s Spirit and grace, into one New Life of Faith.
(Copyright ©06/2013 Bob Gotti)
Bob Gotti, 23 june 2013
I was saved by God, a wicked soul, saved by Him to make me whole,
Saved to become like Jesus Christ, living for Him, through a New Life,
But, sadly I daily battle with prejudice, from that war raging in all of us,
That daily battle foaming deep inside, with dark sin, from which I died.
Though I died to sin at The Cross, today in me, there is spiritual dross,
That dross, only His Blood purges, as me, His Spirit continually urges,
To truly walk in that newness of life, while in this world where sin is rife,
Being led by The Lord from above, so a world will see Him, in my love.
This spiritual battle rages deep within, an ongoing battle against all sin,
All of that sin from my former life, produces in my heart ongoing strife,
Between The Spirit and my flesh, as that enemy desires me to regress,
Being taunted from the wicked one, so I’d do what should not be done.
I need to daily resist the evil urge, as The Lord God continues to purge,
All that darkness that’s deep inside, so that in my Lord I can fully abide,
Recalling He paid the ultimate price, so that I could be a living sacrifice,
Avoiding sin that I have spoken of, to follow Christ’s Spirit from above.
Following God daily with my cross, as He continues purging that dross,
To walk in Christ so that others see, all the change afforded by Calvary,
While denying myself to follow Him, as He makes those changes within,
Those deepest crevices in my heart, so from old ways I can truly depart.
(Copyright ©06/2013 Bob Gotti)
Satish Verma, 23 june 2013
That kind of kiss and runoff.
Why don't you concede to the fraud?
It was a haunted dilemma,
kidnapping of a verdict.
Dinosaurs were wiped out
by a clean sweep of a meteorite
long back, millions of years. Now,
present ones, tiny reptiles
still survivng in water, air and
earth by active faults.
The great Indian Bustard was again
sighted in a poor man's field.
Are you a moon friendly?
I am dispossessing all my domestic clouds.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 22 june 2013
Your fangs open like lips.
I am ready for the kiss of death
at a war zone, where I was adrift
holding the flame, moments
stabbed by hot bullets.
Black and white words break the
embrace, I cannot study the bandona now.
Eyes winged, were sailing to distant
lands of smugness, a darkening calm
taking over the poems.
The pungent stink hurts, I swim
without water on dry riverbed, becoming
target for kalashnikov, the courtyard
filled by encroaching blood,
dominion of silent sobs.
Satish Verma
David de la Croes, 21 june 2013
Caterpillar dreams
of wings and sweet nectar -
while munching tough leaves.
David de la Croes, 21 june 2013
A brisk autumn breeze
causes a thousand goodbyes -
reluctant leaves leave.
David de la Croes, 21 june 2013
At the stump of the fig tree
where sweetness and fragrance
have long departed
a rain spider has built a nest
of autumn-dried leaves
covered with a blanket
of delicate silk.
I stand and watch
the little spiders
coming out to play
in smooth fur jackets -
first, a game of tag
and then a fencing game
with slender long legs.
Soon they will spread out
and scurry around in the hunt for food;
raising neck hairs and bring shrieks of terror
as they intimidate nervous children and wives.
Gert Strydom, 21 june 2013
(after N.P. Van Wyk Louw)
The hour-work becomes rigid
with no second hand that ticks on,
are caught up in an eternal moment.
The bee stays confused and puzzled
at a flower that is now lifeless and stiff
that does not open its buds and does not know where to aim
but still the flower remains attractive
and does never become a fruit, jam or ketchup.
Its eternally day
with rays falling from a sky that’s cobalt-blue
and on the beach the drops of the wave that is breaking shattering
remains in that thundering moment,
are caught in spray as if they cling to the pure air
as if never the wave could drench the rock.
[Reference: “Suiwer wiskunde” (Pure mathematics) by N.P. van Wyk Louw.]
© Gert Strydom
Gert Strydom, 21 june 2013
Sometimes your eyes are dark brown and full of sunshine
when the tomorrows feel like only a rumour,
sometimes it’s as if my yesterdays disappear into their depths.
Sometimes your eyes are dark brown and full of sunshine
where you bring joy to a world full of pain
but your humanity brings me back to the here and now.
Sometimes your eyes are dark brown and full of sunshine
when the tomorrows feel like only a rumour…
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