Gert Strydom, 12 december 2012
Let me tell you of my love day by day,
and little things like a dove
that life at times brings onto my way,
see as an action from above,
even if this life does me around shove
let me still truly love you
while into each other we fit as a glove,
let my eyes sparkle blue
while yours have a strange kind of hue,
with care in every remark,
let only kindness in everything be due
with passion as the spark.
When we do in greater things embark
let us then find an alcove,
a place of love, solace against the dark
living out our own love.
Satish Verma, 12 december 2012
There was thunder in the hut
teeth clattered under the ground.
Handcuffed you walk in inequality
to qualify for hanging till dead.
I may not tell myself
what was happening to me.
Moving in opposite direction
the bird was able to catch the smell.
My stance was always making a stroke
in the canvas of a tormentor
abbreviated in a muscular arm
starting violences of sleep.
Corralled in doorframes, keeping
the lights off, this was the nemesis
for asking for the change. Haungered, the
human being, absorbed by the
absence of chains which were not
coming in sight.
*On the fate of Kanu Sanyal, founder of naxalite movement, who hanged himself to death on 23th March 2010.
Satish Verma
louis gander, 11 december 2012
Oh, how I thought I knew it all when I was in my youth -
but as I turn in circles now I find an ugly truth -
that time had shut a door on each decision I had made
and now I have to suffer from the high price I have paid.
Now Jesus led me as a youth but I had vainly went
the stubborn way I wanted to. My whole life I had spent -
going my own selfish way through each and every door -
and thinking that each new one was much better than before.
But then I looked around me as the final door slammed shut.
So stunned, I was - completely - as it echoed in my gut.
I walked through each door willingly to get to where I am -
and now my soul is naked as I stand in front of Him.
But then my God allowed me there to reach back with my hand
and open up that final door. I didn't understand...
I stepped back through and found myself where I had been last week -
and then I saw another door so took another peek.
It too, had opened up for me - so I stepped through again -
and there I was two weeks ago right back where I had been.
So on and on I went through doors as fast as I could run -
until I was a child again - then back where I'd begun.
Now this time I will have no pride and this time I won't fight.
I'll follow in His footsteps and I'll follow Him just right.
Now each door that God opens makes us one close happy team -
and everything goes perfect 'til I wake up from my dream.
---
I only had one lonely chance to live an upright way -
but I messed up. I put me here. There is no more to say...
except that Jesus pulls me from my putrid, sinful grime -
and gives me one more final chance to get it right this time.
©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
Geetima Baruah Sarma, 11 december 2012
Big dreams and high ambitions
Engulf the young minds,
Desire for a rosy life
Of fame and comfort,
But feelings of despair
Cripple imagination,
When incidents occur
That never wished before.
It's all right O seekers,
Bravely endure challenges...
The blows shall immune you and
Extract hidden talents from within,
You fall to rise again,
The dawn shall usher new scope,
Hard times come and go,
Pursue and enjoy life's rainbow.
[Published in 'Writers Web Well' on 4 September 2011]
Kahlia Mazacalletti, 10 december 2012
I did my nails last night; so I could claw my way through life
They are a very pretty color on the outside
I am sure people will remark how nice they look
They are looking at the one applied coat, you see
I will mentally scratch through another day
My mind, being so ahead of itself
I did this beauty treatment all by myself-
My nails were so plain before, no pizazz; my nails are brittle and break easily
But I have not , yet
I remember all the filing I have had to do, to keep things smooth, on the outside........
My nails are so shiny; while other things are Dull.
Getting your nails done gives you a purpose to hang on, I am mentally hung, I was up all night checking my nails and thinking
Maybe, I have had enough of this un-beautiful stuff....
Maybe, I should paint something else-my life
My life could be a different shade than blue
Satish Verma, 10 december 2012
Trapped in staircase,
huddled in dark,
you cannot go up.
you cannot go down.
The succession wars
have started again.
Bending the laws,
molesting, disowning.
The predator will get away
eating the gold,
the paradise.
You are left with the lantern.
Burn, burn my kisses.
The heat will melt the eyes,
the snow of the hill.
the glass of a virgin.
Satish Verma
Naykd Poet, 10 december 2012
He looked into my eyes, through to my want of soul
He knew I desired him but at what cost, what toll?
His beauty of youth so obvious, not to be denied
But morality’s grasp did, our chance to love, belie
Age, the discriminator to each living life
Through its passage, experienced, is much emotional strife
It need not be this way, it makes no common sense
For often and, most certain, it’s to our own expense
We struggle to retain our vibrancy of youth
But each reflective glance, garners the harsher of truth
As each year moves closer toward an unavoidable, death end
It leaves the want to be old and living , harder to defend
Beauty, it’s said, is bestowed to the eye of the beholder
But not if such beauty is found of one young by one older
Attraction should not be defined by the measure of time’s passage
But by the degree loving hearts become emotionally ravaged
To look into the wanting eyes of one’s youthful admirer
Full of innocence and want to fulfill a yearning desire
Ignorant to the morality of adult guilt self impose
Blind to the consequence that yields such advances forever closed.
________________________________________
Spojrzał mi w oczy, aż do mojego braku duszy
Wiedział, chciałem go, ale jakim kosztem, jaki numer?
Jego piękno młodości tak oczywiste, nie odmawia się
Ale moralność jest znajomość nie, nasza szansa na miłość, są sprzeczne
Wiek, dyskryminator do każdego żywego życia
Przez jego przejścia, doświadczenie, dużo emocjonalne kłótnie
To nie musi być w ten sposób, to nie ma zdrowego rozsądku
Za często, a najbardziej pewna, że to na własny koszt
Walczymy, aby zachować naszą żywotność młodości
Ale każdy refleksyjne spojrzenie, spichlerze ostrzejsze prawdy
Jak co roku zbliża się ku nieuniknionej śmierci, końca
Pozostawia on chce być stary i żywą, trudniej bronić
Uroda, to powiedział, jest nadawany w oku patrzącego
Ale jeśli takie piękno można znaleźć z jeden młody przez jednego starszego
Atrakcji nie powinno być określone przez miary czasu fragmencie
Ale od stopnia serc kochających się emocjonalnie spustoszyły
Spojrzeć w oczy chcą czyjegoś młodzieńczej wielbiciela
Pełna niewinności i chcą spełnić pragnienie tęsknota
Ignorant do moralności dorosłych siebie winy nakładają
Niewidomych konsekwencji dającej takie zaliczki na zawsze zamknięte.
Satish Verma, 9 december 2012
Trapped in staircase,
huddled in dark,
you cannot go up.
you cannot go down.
The succession wars
have started again.
Bending the laws,
molesting, disowning.
The predator will get away
eating the gold,
the paradise.
You are left with the lantern.
Burn, burn my kisses.
The heat will melt the eyes,
the snow of the hill.
the glass of a virgin.
Satish Verma
louis gander, 8 december 2012
Does someone call as snowflakes fall
upon my window sill?
Then comes a sleigh. The horses neigh,
in spirit of goodwill.
There's not a breeze. My mind's at ease.
They bid me, "Come" they say.
So I step out. There is no doubt -
that this is Christmas Day.
I hop aboard and ride on toward -
a town that's splashed with sights.
I look ahead at green and red.
I love those Christmas lights.
The air is crisp. I see a wisp -
on front of horses' mane -
that bounced with pep at every step.
The horses did not wane.
Heard sleigh bells chime through all that time
until I got to town -
And hooves had clopped until they stopped
as I arrived downtown.
Nativity... I smiled with glee -
heard carols in the air.
The shepherds spied. The three Magi
saw Jesus sleeping there.
A camel knelt. In joy they dwelt -
in cushioned stable hay -
A scene on earth of virgin birth -
where one man came to pray.
A poor old man, all wrinkled tan,
was kneeling on the ground.
His hair was messed but he was blessed
as snow fell all around.
Some kids walked through, in contrast to
his contrite position.
And then they felled the cane he held -
reckless recognition.
God woos each one who seek His Son -
but they paid no attention.
I heard them joke each time they spoke
within their own dimension.
He reached in vain to get his cane.
His countenance was grim -
then heard him say, "wife passed away."
as I gave it to him.
Through eyelids tight, they drew my sight -
I saw more tears come through.
It touched my heart, tore me apart -
so I knelt right there too.
Snowflakes falling, Jesus calling -
calling from above.
Can you live it? Christmas spirit -
wooing all, in love...
©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
Mark 2:14 (KJV)
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
Debadarshi Panda, 8 december 2012
A world divided within me,
Far separate of sin and thought,
And sin is the word – not vowed
Far be the hand – that writes!
Declare!
So far I am stirred –
Within rust and toppling scale of limits
to ten, and be it all –
that have wondered this mind,
“Man is not made of man – out of even”.
In those wild false,
pleasant voice, that has not uttered –
only cried foul –
strains of the meek, tears of the sweeper,
whose voice was failing,
within his soul.
Be the death – crept in his last joy,
To better – be the span with zeal,
To be the Human – last I could say,
Futile in days –
Death is immortal.
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