Satish Verma, 26 january 2013
Rebirth of an anxiety,
of an abstract thought,
takes on the impossible of something
left between false and true.
Out of spite some body was betraying the life.
A bodiless lie becomes an imposter
beats the truth and walks away.
You, dumbfounded, discover a malignancy
in the roots of a crying tree.
The soil bacteria were taking over the grains.
The price of the sick crop, the insects,
the greed of the state, where the normal
man will go. The comets and the crabs
are circling the island. Scratch the prophecy,
and every man was turning against himself.
Satish Verma
Alicja Kuberska, 25 january 2013
The eyes skate over the reality
Like smooth, frosted glass.
The cracks and deep splits
Are well seen.
The tensions are hidden
and invisible.
One day everything
Can break into pieces
And turn into a shower
of shards.
We are surprised
That we forgot about
Nature of glass.
Bunny Crunch, 25 january 2013
I lay out here, gaze at the stars
With paint and skates, and chocolate bars
The softness of the island sand
Unmatchable throughout this land
Through turmoil, terror, hate and blame
I know that I'll still be the same
For I have learned from you this far
The bitter value of a scar
I won't return to you again
Now far beyond the reach of men
Though I'll never learn to fly
If you first never make me cry
After what you've done to me
I hope that all the world will see
That life is more than words and charts
But love and fear, and purple hearts
It is they that show us how to live
Love to me, you would never give
It is that love that hurt me first
But from it I will not be cursed
And now we're here, up in the air
On top of Earth without a care
We'll soar above and not be shy
Flying up above the sky
Now that I've learned to tell a lie
No one will ever have to die
Through work of yours
Or others scores
I never thought I'd save a life
With gentle words and fun nightlife
Just a hug and a gentle smile
Can take away those words of vile
This world once, he longed to leave
But ran to me, I couldn't believe
What I could do with just four words
And now we've been frequent shorebirds
Alone again, alone with me
I gave him more than can ever be
A miracle, at very least
His happiness is long released
I've made his life, I've done much more
Time again to hit the shore
Each of these sweet Memphis days
We will race some blue stingrays
The softness of the island sand
Unmatchable throughout this land
Purple hearts shine in the sky
From pain that we have long gone by
Femi, 25 january 2013
Oh ye mortals, listen to my decree:
I want you all to be like me
To rule over all under the sea
And those flying above freely.
To reign with love over everything
To live together on earth with blessing
With the spirit of giving and receiving
And enter the kingdom everlasting.
To be my vicegerents and helpers
By thinking and performing wonders
By uplifting a world prone to blunders
And caring for each other as brothers.
If you can faithfully do all these
I will give hearing to your pleas
And replace all your worries
With abundance and ease.
Femi, 25 january 2013
Feeling lost is not from wanting what you lack
Feeling lost is that inner yearning to go back
The courage to stand up and lift your knapsack
And find your way back home on that lonely track.
Where do I truly belong in this land of nowhere?
Why am I still feeling lost and in utter despair?
I journeyed everywhere to seek better welfare
But everything tells me to go back “there”.
This “there” is my roots, my home and origin
The land I left and have now almost forgotten
Tell me where to find a go-back-home beacon
That will lead me back to the land of my brethren.
What road do I take for I have lost all trace
The crumbs I left behind are scattered all place
But I'm not afraid to go ahead or make the wrong turn
Because this longing for home in my heart still burns.
I still hear noises from the haggling market women
The voices of mothers calling out to their children
The crackling of the roof under the hot midday sun
And the silence on the street when the day's hustle is done.
As these memories surface, I see the crumbs aligned
As I boldly take the first step, I see my home in my mind
I'm bound for home and it doesn't matter where I start
All roads lead to home and the journey starts from the heart.
Gert Strydom, 25 january 2013
The shadows of the afternoon are drawing long lines,
against the hillock there are specs of red aloes
while the afternoon lingers, the sun descends,
and a neighbour takes his first sip of wine;
old ladies chatter softly at their back doors,
a woman peeps to the street through some curtains
and on the hot roof of a big old house
some cats are baking in the sun.
When another neighbour unpacks his briefcase
I do wonder if you are coming to visit,
while the dog snarls at the passing postman on his bicycle
and at twilight it’s still a great maybe,
while I am growing hunger
and am wondering if our relationship will last?
Gert Strydom, 25 january 2013
A jackal is howling at the moon
while the eyes of some small animals gleam in the dark,
the wind moans around the corners of the house
and at times outside its just dark night
with long shadows falling on the wall,
and in a room only a single light is on
while an old man moans half-dazed
as he is busy enduring the pain of approaching death.
His face is white-pale and sweating,
time passes far too slowly, drags on hour after hour,
and portraits of some family patriots
peer into my eyes as if they do know some deep secrets
and I wonder where life is going
when the world changes, when time does move on.
Gert Strydom, 25 january 2013
Most of winter was stripped of life
but in thousands they do suddenly appear
when all of the blue sky is full of fluttering
with migrating birds gliding everywhere
as they come to rest on roofs and telephone lines
and you are surrounded by singing, twittering birds
pertly flapping down on porches
and from daybreak you can hear their calls
when in hordes in the garden skilfully they do peck at insects,
are peering from branches
while you still are shivering from the morning’s chill
and in the early twilight their chattering awakes you
as some peck on crumbs
and try to exist in a town or city.
Gert Strydom, 25 january 2013
When waves sweep out and break,
are sucking on sea-grass trails
and do drag you along as if you are some animal
caught in the power of the great blue ocean
and in the quick sudden development
when horizon, sun and sky does divide
with breakers that break, cleave and spread open
there is something that penetrates your humanity
something about the vastness and potency of the sea
as it’s sucking, drawing and clings to you
when you do decide to swim out of it,
are aware of its pure power
and muscles are used to almost utmost effort
to cleave through water, to swim if you are still able to.
Kahlia Mazacalletti, 25 january 2013
She rides the bus each morning; wishing she had a car
The smell of the fumes are overwhelming, but she has no choice
At each stop someone "New" or the daily person gets on
Most of the time she gets a seat but when it is crowded she holds on to the upper bar
Once in awhile someone nice will ask if she wants a seat
She looks around to see all the different colors and patterns
Shoes, Coats, Dresses, Briefcases, Suits, Umbrellas
Someone talking louder than all the others
The Bus Driver looking in the rearview mirror.........
Seeing what there is to see
She thinks to herself.......
Driving must be better than riding the bus?
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