Gert Strydom, 15 november 2012
To remove the head from holy John
when she was near to that great saint
Salome did decide beneath a silver moon,
before that godless girl danced on.
When Salome danced before drunken Herod
that king was swept away as if enchanted
and he wanted to fall over his own feet,
while she looked really stunning,
the gleaming glance of her eye caught his
and her gruesome mother took her chance
and this is how things still go today
when a girl is prettier than the rest,
and some men realise this
and let no one admonish them.
Gert Strydom, 15 november 2012
As if just asleep I was waken
with the light shining brightly in my eyes,
when darkness did disappear suddenly
and I came alive again.
There is nothing strange to tell anyone,
as I bear no knowledge of exactly how death is
and everyone keeps asking inquisitive
but I cannot disguise my own ignorance.
Here I heard children laughing joyfully
and became aware of the sun shining bright,
to me the light of God was always present,
as a kind of presence in the dark night.
As if just asleep I was waken
and I came alive again.
Satish Verma, 15 november 2012
O Hubble
what was the need,
to discover, to go beyond
for it.
It was here
in our hearts,
the dark energy.
When hearing would be lost.
I will go extraplanetory
to find the truth
of star birth.
On earth everyday a star is born.
On hundred light-years
down in a bottomless pit.
The contusion brings out the stale
abuses. No kindness for even gods.
Satish Verma
Tim Kitchen, 14 november 2012
Is my Mother with the angels
in her heavenly seat.
And does she watch over me
with angels at her feet.
When I think of how she lived
I feel like I’m with her again
Does she know of all my faults
and love me just the same.
I wonder where my Father is
does he stand at heaven’s door.
And does he know, I write poetry
just like he did before.
When my heart is in my poetry
it feels like I’m with him too.
Does his spirit help me to write
the way he’d want me to do.
Are they together in a heavenly place
with the Lord they wanted to see.
And do they think I live my life
how they’d want me to be.
Tim Kitchen, 14 november 2012
When I awake from my dreams
on each new day morn
I turn and find you near to me
your body soft and warm.
I take you in my loving arms
and hold you close to me
for I can only face the day
knowing your love for me.
As I go about my days
life’s pressures all around
my thoughts drift back to you
and the love that we have found
I think of when you’re close to me
and all those things you do
till I just want the time to come
when I’m back home with you.
When the day is over
and I’m lying there with you
I take you in my arms again
feeling love for you
our hearts, entwined as one
two lovers in the night
and I will hold you close to me
until the morning light.
Tim Kitchen, 14 november 2012
He goes to work each morning often before it’s light
careful to remember the things he must get right.
The traffic is often heavy the sky is often grey
but he has to make the best of things to get him through the day.
He goes back home each evening sometimes after dark
too late to see those he loves and take them to the park.
He feels a little weary with nothing much to say
and slowly drifts off to sleep too tired to save his day.
But deep in the heart of the man you see
lives the man he wants to be
free to live life, his own way
true to himself, every single day.
A man who can make dreams come true
a man like me, a man like you.
A man who can set his spirit free
to be the man he wants to be.
He goes to work each morning the sky is often grey
and it’s, just another day, just another day………….
Tim Kitchen, 14 november 2012
Decorations are in shop windows
yuletide music is all we can hear.
Pretty lights shine in the town centre
making it feel like Christmas is here.
Plans are made for friends to meet
to celebrate with food and beer.
Neighbours are putting up trees
making it feel like Christmas is here.
Soldiers have come home on leave
kissing loved ones, shedding a tear.
People travel to be with families
making it feel like Christmas is here.
Children practice the nativity plays
we love so much this time of year.
Choirs can be heard singing carols
making it feel like Christmas is here.
Very soon the turkey will be cooking
for the family meal we hold so dear.
Excited children will open presents
then we’ll be saying ‘Christmas is here!’
Tim Kitchen, 14 november 2012
He remembers their first time, in the evening chill
near to the cornfield behind the house on the hill.
Where the old folks live who are lost behind its door
and don’t know where, or who they are any more.
He visits her most days, she often doesn’t know who he is
at the house on the hill, where she now needs to live.
Sometimes she looks at him with a certain look in her eye
and he knows that look and he tries hard not to cry.
He wonders if somewhere behind those troubled eyes
the woman he loved so much somehow still survives.
And just occasionally in a moment of lucid thought
she remembers the times when her life was less fraught.
The time they were young lovers, passionate and free
and so happy to be married in the spring of fifty three.
The children they raised and all their cute little ways
and the sounds of Sinatra and Minnelli, on the airwaves.
He sits in his chair gazing through the window each night
up to the house on the hill, until the last moment of light.
Wondering if she looks down at the place she called home
and if she really knows he still lives there, all alone.
Gert Strydom, 14 november 2012
Sounding their horns harshly
two ibises rise from the lawn,
rise from their snail pecking
with hard big wings
slapping against the rainy air,
but neck on neck
keeping to straight formation
stretching out lifting into the wind
again they shriek at the barking dog
before swinging in flight
to a new direction.
Gert Strydom, 14 november 2012
After the lion’s roar
I see them standing quivering
testing the air
with nostrils snorting
in a bevy of white and black stripes
being both fearful and curious
and passing slowly
in the knee high grass
with soft voices calling
at each other
and the stallion wheeling nervously
turning around its herd
and sunlight flashes over
the magnificent animal.
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