Satish Verma, 2 january 2013
Between the tremors
falls the face
in a glass of water.
Sometimes false teeth reverberate
through the pages of history; devastation
sinks in. A faun rubs the landscape.
Hatchlings come out when death-music
stops. A miracle tends to quieten the bones.
You should not hate me,
it was the method of ruines, the spirits
hover like vampires. Tell me have you
seen the street walking?
A table sings in a kitchen, the knives
peel off the stars, a moon dips in milk
of morality. The house was in disorder,
but the bougainvilleas were shedding
ceaselessly the colourful leaves.
Summer was coming.
Satish Verma
louis gander, 1 january 2013
Reflecting back to my childhood in the 1960's, I wrote this story poem. I hope you enjoy it.
There, spaced along the highway were twelve inexpensive signs.
Just simple words of black on white next to some rigid pines.
The signs were spaced just far enough they caught my drifting eye -
so pondered I, each single word as they went marching by...
---
"For God..." "so loved..." "the world..." "that He gave..." "His only..." "begotten Son..."
"that whosoever..." "believeth in Him..." "should not perish..."
"but have..." "everlasting life..." "John 3:16"
---
So many times from grandma's house we read 'John three-sixteen' -
and millions more had seen this verse against the evergreen.
My dad, my mom, my brother, I - in humbleness would read
those words as we were driving by and faithfully did heed.
Now who had thought of doing this and painted them with care -
then dug the holes in God's green earth and set them up to share -
to other people driving by so they too could embrace
this verse of loving kindness - of vast forgiving grace?
I read those words each time we passed and wondered who'd take time
and paint the words for profit not - not even for a dime.
I wondered who that man could be each time that we passed by -
and wondered as some years went by - whose signs had caught my eye.
Yes, even as a teen I thought, who painted each of those -
then did the work to put them up? I pondered, just suppose -
he cared not for his pocket book but wanted to impart,
with work and pure compassion - some love within his heart.
Well, nothing lasts forever and sometimes something breaks -
so dad pulled to the shoulder and then hit the car's old brakes.
He took a hammer from the trunk. Bored, waiting for my dad,
I saw him fix a broken sign - and then I knew who had.
©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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Kahlia Mazacalletti, 31 december 2012
They were two of a kind; or so some say
But undearneath it all, they had their hey-day
The clock was ticking and time was not on their side anymore
Like an elephant in a grocery store
He loved her but she did not love him-it was sad you see
Why didn't she just let him be
Did it have to do with his money
She played the game oh so well; he never knew
But underneath it all, she was through
And even with that mannaquin smile
That icy pose-she hung on for quite awhile
For love is blind or so they say
And the wicked wait for another day
She let him have her-night after night
Never putting up a fight
But he found the number quite by accident
No explanation was needed and he would lament
That he had been used and he was so hurt and mad
But she had taken him for what he had.......
Satish Verma, 31 december 2012
Step aside.
The white flowing mane
was going to become the adrenaline.
Fear of silence was turning into a green wound.
The dissenting life-blood has vandalized
the moon. There was a provocation
from the black stars. The leopard
was ready to tear open the zoo.
The outreach was a puzzling thing.
Who was responsible for rearing
the panthers in captivity? The tail, the claws,
the teeth were vulnerable.
I was sick of pretentions. Every act
had a motive of loss or gain. Night or day
the sphinx always looms large. You can
walk in, to talk to coffin.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 30 december 2012
Ceramic memories
and terracotta pain;
the injured crypt ultimately got opened.
At urn burial, the name was absent. A pristine
ritual for a nameless martyr.
The sword within him was not used
and pubescent bomb went unexploded.
You leave a beautiful war
glorified by defusing a land mine
and roadside bomb was dismantled.
Looking for a blue flame you entered the stone
house of death, and left the hurt gift.
The moon will smile again
when you come back as a bright star.
The dead potsherd comes alive
when I dig for your name.
Satish Verma
Alex Perez, 29 december 2012
All my life… All my fears…
I close my eyes… I shed two tears…
I pray for my life and for my freedom,
I reach towards God, for I know I need him.
My inner child is lost within these streets,
Now as a young man; I deal with too many defeats.
My inner poet is my soul companion,
I pour my heart into these words so this page won't be an empty canyon.
I find my strength, my faith, and my love,
Despite my pain; I know that God's above…
Just watching and waiting to see what I'll do,
He knows the answers; but still; he leaves me this clue.
That he's inside my heart and he's with me in every way,
And I was never alone because he is there every day.
So if there's anyone out there who feels pain too,
Then please don't worry; for God is with you.
To all my family and friends or anyone who may have thought I was through,
Remember this…
… The game isn't over for me… it's merely ROUND TWO.
Alex Perez
Kahlia Mazacalletti, 29 december 2012
I am up again at 3am, once again to my chagrin
I try and try to stop the fight, it's just another anxious night
I feel like I am losing my mind, I have tried to leave the memories behind
It's such a crazy place to be, I can really, really see
That none of this makes any sense at all-but someplace I have dropped the ball
I can't seem to get control again over me; So I just scream "God , help me, Please"
Why must this continue on, I think of it as a punishment
But then I stop and I lament
About my family and such and how I loved them oh, so much
The car crash killed them all, you see
That's why I have anxiety
God took them all that day, but I know where they are
That helps me a lot-each one is a star-
In the southern sky and in Heaven way up high
So anxiety will stop someday, I will just muster through
I will think Of All Of You
Until my grief goes away, I continue to pray each day
Dear Lord hear my prayer; keep my anxiety in your care
For Susan Powers, my dear friend
Kahlia Mazacalletti, 29 december 2012
Are you really finished; do you recieve God's word
Do you go to war for Him daily like a battleship
Without surrender; only to Him
The world is a terrible place and we must Praise God
Every day, we must give thanks for every morsal of food
For it is finished-the day of old, the day of good things
Neighbors helping neighbors, man helping man
Walking down the streets without fear
Without judgement, no place to hide
Walk in righteousness for He is watching
Pray in strength for He is listening
It is finished for those who do not seek him out
It is finished for the murderers, the rapists, the child molesters,
May we pray for those still out there daily that it is not finished for them..........
That they may come back to God and revitalize their stronghold
It is finished for anyone NOT knowing God
Tetelestai, meaning "It is Finished" from John 19:28 and 19:30
Kahlia Mazacalletti, 29 december 2012
At 42, he sits in the atrium of the nursing home
He is silent and his movements are that of a mime
Getting up, and deciding to roam
I see that when he walks he is perfectly in time
With the music that is being played and he looks at the fire door
I shake my head and say no, please don't try
A tear wells up and he begins to cry
Phillips girlfriend comes by for a visit and tells me his story
How they were making love and he had a major stroke
It seems to me in all his handsome glory
This is some kind of cruel joke
How could someone have brought him through the gate
Then I find out , he was admitted by the state
He was not enough medical and just enough psych
To get to Broadview Manor Nursing Home
The state thought his family would like
I was doing my internship on geriatrics and thought I'd seen it all
But he caught my eye and made me cry
His life was at a standstill and they had dropped the ball
So, I made Phillip my newfound project and he was so kind to me
He was somewhat of a child like man and a prodigy
Today Phillip is leading a new life....with his new ex girlfriend
Whom is now his wife
I helped Phillip get placed in an independent living center with his families help and he is leading a Very productive life. I will always remember him....
Satish Verma, 29 december 2012
When the debate between
temple versus state was heating up,
death was passing through a green field.
A nervous embrace
of solatium was unstable.
A heap of flip-flops could not
hold steady, little
poems fluttering in the heart.
Was it the will of God?
The stampede was the anathema
of hunger, the curse of a
whore was working.
Instead of food and alms,
a mass burial makes
me insane.
Was it possible that spring
was far behind? When brassica
blooms, will you forget? Is it not true?
Satish Verma
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