TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 12 february 2013
There is a barbed wire growing,
From within my veins.
Its arrowheads grow and come out,
Puncturing the veins.
Like a grape vine,
This barbed wire climbs upwards,
Towards the end of each vein,
And outward tearing through my skin.
It binds me from within....
My heart, entangled in this hideous wire,
Beats in agony. Every time it beats,
It hurts like the labor pain.
I want to screem,
But my tongue doesn't move...
Only a groan,
Like that of a slaughtered animal,
Comes out...
Every time I think of you,
My eyes are at peace.
My heart is fliled with heavenly pleasure,
But it falls victim of its own self gratification,
And beats uncontrollably like a body in ecstasy.
And brings down hell from within.
I want to scream............................,
But.................................................,
Only an unworldly groan comes out.
Baby! Yet...I love you so very much.
TOUFIQ UL ALAM, 12 february 2013
You said,''stop.''
And Silence came between us,
Like The Horsemen of the apocalypse,
The harbinger of the judgment day.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence came between us,
Like the scythe of the Grim reaper,
To take my Precious away.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence came between us,
Like The Mighty Excalibur,
As if to pass the rightful judgement.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
As if Medusa's curse turned me to,
A lifeless stone.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like the Hammer of Thor,
That pounded my heart,
With frightful force.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like The Susano,
that tormented my peaceful heart.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like the deepest ravine,
That stands between You and I.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like a thousand needles,
That puncture my heart,
with needless ferocity.
You said, ''stop.''
And silence.....................
It is like the endless absence,
Of your enchanting voice.
Silence................................,
It is a wooden box and Me,
Six feet under, in my very own grave.
Gert Strydom, 12 february 2013
If ever I can travel on the road
that meanders the blue-green sea
it will be such a thrill that I would be happy
and I would probably see on the waves a passing boat
with sails billowing in the wind contentedly
but destiny has put on my shoulders an age-old load.
I would love to dance in the splashing rain
while lightning bolts thunders down besides me
like at a party with disco lights it would seem jolly
and I will see them flashing past again and again
while I felt from all obligations free
but my body is filled with a kind of terrible pain.
A rose opening in the morning at my door,
or a evening primrose welcoming the moonlight
would be quite a lovely sight,
would be something I could give to someone that I adore
but everything perishes as if cursed to death by the night
and so my garden is vexed forevermore.
Gert Strydom, 12 february 2013
How do I constantly wish to go home
to a place where some green meadows greet me,
where cattle, horses and sheep roam carefree
under the wide heaven’s bluest kind of dome.
The fresh country air has an own welcome
where man can still see small signs of his God
and near to Him come, constantly daily trod;
far from the city, to senses I will come
daily see His works in the green cornfields
in the many bright flowers that blossom,
peacefully experience crops that yields
to bounty and live totally wholesome,
walk daily in patches of some wild flowers
see living effects of the rain showers.
Gert Strydom, 12 february 2013
There’s a chill tonight
on Helderberg Hill
an icy wind blows through the trees
and it’s raining still,
as it did for days
as it does each
and every Mediterranean winter.
The sweet scent
and not that of the forest of the trees
but of lavender instead is in the breeze
and fills my lungs, fills my heart, my head
until it becomes a part of me
but big eyed you lie
in the bed next to me
and the rain outside falls on and on
with fog cordoning off the hill,
the painting on the wall,
the garden with its bush upon bush
of waving lavender
are now all gone out of sight
and a solitary pistil awakens and grows in size,
entering a calyx, a tubular corolla forming two lips
and it could have been spring
as new life is sprouting, but a chilly winter it is
in the house near Helderberg Hill
Satish Verma, 12 february 2013
scape without a name
scepter of a colossus
merge in a yellow boom
between hunch and a knife,
to keep shut the glassy lips
from red stares
a secret of an anonym
scripting sunset
the stacked neurotransmission
of millions of texts
with quietus
not to return back without the foe’s skull
a hollowness reverberates
while indifference talks
of moon’s lair
nor a dwindling shoulder–
and the tigers have disappeared
from sanctury
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 11 february 2013
When deep in the shadows
of the dark night I do drown,
there are lights that here and there do wink
and I do know a kind of unknown fear
that it will never be as now again with us;
above me some stars shine brightly,
in the distance people are frolicking
and I wonder if I will again find love in your gaze?
Sometimes I want to flee from abstract things like love,
and live for the moment that I am experiencing
but still you stay here right against me;
people bring me back to you,
and this keeps me from lurching unexpectedly into things
and my whole life, my very best you do remain.
Greg, 11 february 2013
Bleeding heart in twisted veins
Collapsed upon the window pain
Visuality turning into sound
The high pitched scream of purple drapes
Blown into bits by the love we make
And the love that we are made of expounds
Outward from the inner realms
Of objective sonic hells
Dancing in the ringing bells
We wait
To be formed out of nothing
To create a little something
That will be forever more
But all that you ever make
And all that you every take
To be you is not yours
You just are
The effervescent sun
The one between the juke box
And the tattered bar room wall
Infinite held within the scalded pot
That sits upon a lonely stool
Looking for the cops;
To create definitions of what it should be
But really it’s relational
So forage down the rabbit hole
And come up for a breath
When you are on the other side
And none of you is left
Characteristics dissolved into love
Not tucked away upon the self
That is constriction
Objective vindication
Love is the sound of transcendence
Love is the sight of transcendence
Love is transcendence
Love
Satish Verma, 11 february 2013
for self deception
sulfur fumes incite
mood swings
soaring to clean the malice,
reaper of gravity zero
what was the price,
of a tongue, mimicking
the greatness?
between birth and death,
for survival of crotch,
undressing the fear, terror
inflicts the pumice,
for honour killing
a roadside encounter,
with meddling of thighs,
lets down the clouds,
words in print were unccceptable
for a verdict on a silky mat
my fate splits open like a pod
in summer, for a love untold
Satish Verma
baedigile maamogwa, 10 february 2013
Never met a girl and made a decision
I didn`t know thought it happened naturally
All I knew was to have a mutual feeling
Found it hard to give them up
Never knew why love
all I knew was it has to be done
never put my foot down
I just wanted to do the right thing
Thought if my heart agreed
she was the right one
Oh! My nature why are you killing me
I can just love love love
for no reason
only when it end I knew
To her I made a choice and a decision
to love her forever,to swallow her even if she was bitter
to stand by her when the world crumble
and die together like a fused sperm and ova
to smile,cry and jump with joy like hand and a leg
as young as I am my players play
I vowed to God and thanked Him for this wonderful child
I promised God to love her forever
I choked myself to the right thing
It was an opportunity though it cost
I made a decision to love her
Now it was not about her beauty
it was about love OH! LOVE WHY??
I learned to love my Havenly Father
and all those promises I made for her for us
I learned to respect God
but when she walks away
and almost breaks me after we break up
If she wants to come back should I chase her
?
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