Gert Strydom, 3 august 2012
Whenever we walk you keep up with me,
while the sun glitters in your golden hair
and together we have tranquillity
while all of life seems great and very fair
as if something unseen is in the air
and it might be somehow in the fresh wind
or just part of our very own affair
or only something somewhere in my mind
but your true love stays with me constantly,
its essence works predominately.
Ann Mary Thomas, 3 august 2012
Sitting in the chilling cold office,
Looking out of the glass window,
nothing else, i feel to do,
Other than stitch a lovable poem
No ideas coming to me,and
No wonder to make with my pen.
My heart is yearning,
without any pause,
to give birth to a poem...
Where can i get a theme,
where can i find the mood,
what can i write in the paper
I scribbled something and something
Scribbling something and something
Without even giving a thinking
what am i really writing...
Sitting in the chilling cold office,
Looking out of the glass window,
I really wonder on this thought
Is this really a poem!!!
Satish Verma, 3 august 2012
The sludge overtakes the sane
euphoria.A barefoot caravan
of cloud becomes edgy.
The hills have gone green.
The cascading falls
tend to mount on the scattered stones.
Suddenly I go berserk and start
hitting the stars moon by moon,
when night had betrayed the lover.
The collected grief of the lyrics
will answer for the blood
which hunger spread on the lips.
Satish Verma
Milena Sušnik Falle, 3 august 2012
So noči,
ki jih ne prespiš,
noči, ko se od sten sočutja
lušči praznota.
So noči,
ko v brezglasnosti
dohitevaš
vse tiste ure,
ki si jih dal
brez vrnitve.
So noči,
ko čutiš uteho
govoriti spominu.
Milena Sušnik Falle - Slovenija
(pesniška zbirka Prozorni kristali jutra)
Milena Sušnik Falle, 3 august 2012
Včasih moraš biti sam –
da poiščeš sledove otroštva,
da najdeš sebe
in se izjokaš pred oltarjem
spomina.
Včasih moraš biti sam –
poln tihega žalovanja
in motriti sanje –
nežno vabeče v svet utehe.
Včasih moraš biti sam -
da ječiš z molkom,
da premelješ nedozorele sne
in drobce njih natkeš v življenje
trenutkov.
Milena Sušnik Falle - Slovenija
(pesniška zbirka Prozorni kristali jutra)
Deniz Atay, 2 august 2012
When tender is the night, and the woods are deep
And the only light - as Orion's - piercing the dark,
Gazing a child in his sleep - child whomever he fears
He wishes he has gone, and left him to his sound sleep.
The river near is dark - not even dogs dare to bark -
And it's too far from any park - no wetness, no seep.
A child, who is left to a deathly sleep - still being mild
But the morn is far - too far to being left, way behind.
And Time! Oh Time! How dare you give a child
Endlessly sleep and those woods a languor that's oh so deep?
At dawn when life at woods again is dry,
And no reason is left to stay in the sky,
Orion takes care the child who now eternally sleeps,
The child sees someone - or something - dim:
A light - a palm that caresses him!
rafa grabiec, 2 august 2012
God came first. it spat
seventh time. made a mistake.
the correction there was no room.
all rose benches. expectations. in the mirror
will resemble the signs of wrinkles.
Gert Strydom, 2 august 2012
Pale brown the thrush scratches in the garden
is pecking at earthworms that wriggle around
before suddenly it trumpets out its joy,
but when an old car rattles down the street
it ascends fluttering into the blue sky,
lands on a branch of the old oak tree,
is silent while school children are raising funds,
as if sits for moments dreaming there,
before its song of joy again streams from its throat,
its twittering cuts through the afternoon’s dull weariness.
Gert Strydom, 2 august 2012
Suddenly out of the blue
they came together and flopped down,
children wanted to shoot some with catapults
when wildly they flapped wings among each other,
were walking up and down with twittering sounds,
were standing around in parks for breadcrumbs,
were walking around on sidewalks like pedestrians
until the church bells did ring of three o’clock,
and they flew up in a wide curve
taking to flight into a born-in direction.
Gert Strydom, 2 august 2012
Around and around they move, turning,
as big specks in the bright blue sky
before they suddenly descend one after another
with wild wings cutting as shining blades,
with heads stripped bare and necks stretched out
.when they screech and hobble along to rotting meat.