Satish Verma, 9 october 2013
Deep down thighs, unhoisted,
what was there, harvesting the sperms? At dusk
an inflorescence breaks into myriads
of fireworks, wrecked apologia,
interned unlikeness, insanity, kissing the goldenrod
to start the flow of bare grief.
I deserve no nobility, my moonscape
has a blazing truth about a shooting star
which went into a gape groaning. Somebody
is done for, for a fragile skull. The riverbed
buries the dead child in white sands.
That lump rises again. I said, I never carry
the death on my shoulders. Wrap up and play
the drums for I lost the pathways to enemie
Satish Verma
Geetima Baruah Sarma, 8 october 2013
Time waits for none,
A moment if we shun,
We'll find the difference,
Its worth, packed with chance.
It can make us or mar us,
Every second depends on us,
Whether we plan properly,
Or be idle, lazy and sleepy.
It's certainly a great healer,
Also life's best teacher,
The perfect time is the present,
To utilise it and win a present.
[Published in 'Fire bird poetry' on 7 October 2013 and 'PoemsClub.com' on 9 October 2013]
Gert Strydom, 8 october 2013
Outside a wild, warm west wind is blowing
but in the depths of your arms I did find rest.
Gert Strydom, 8 october 2013
Sometimes just for a moment your eyes do catch mine
and I am lost in their depths.
Sometimes I see small bird tracks
from the times that you do laugh
and sometimes you do smile brightly
like the summer sun.
Sometimes your eyes are turbid
as if the season of winter
does continue forever sadly,
as if the night will never again past
and sometimes your eyes are full of hope
like a new spring that does arrive
and you do change me
to also notice the bright light
in everything that has been, that is
and that has still got to happen.
Satish Verma, 8 october 2013
untouchable that bleeds, lonely
in black sky, that haunting moon
walks gingerly on quivering sea:
lovers killed in shame in broad daylight
by gunshots before a crowd; some possessed
maniacs turning the clock back: history
lets go the leaves, the autumn,
trees stand naked, not malevolent
but want to poach upon the wrong side
of faith; my vision starts failing,
crosses the river in ancient lingua franca
joining the broken hearts
i was apprehensive, clouds come and
go, each death becomes a daisy
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 7 october 2013
Weavers fly to and thro
going over the river
with there nests hanging
in the willow trees
where the leaves becomes alive
in the slight breeze
and with silver crystal spray
an African red-knobbed coot
flies up screaming from the riverbed
disturbed by my squelching tread
and crowned plovers are more agitated
while I walked along the riverbank
As if I am placing my feet on holy ground.
Gert Strydom, 7 october 2013
(after Jan F. E, Cilliers)
Long ago the Spirit of God glided over me
when God created everything of which I do exist
and at that time everything was perfect,
my fields and flowers were still untouched
but the snake with its evil
did disguise itself in a tree
and everything was wonderful and good
until man came to sin, pain and death.
I did experience the big flood
when water fell forty days from heaven
and did stretch right over me, when kind of life was killed,
I did hear the thunder roaring ominous,
felt the crust of the earth break and tear at places
when the earth did divide into different continents,
did once more see and feel the sun
with butterflies, bees, birds and animals playing upon me
but now I do sleep while seasons come and go
and I lay waiting in my eternal rest
for God to come again over this earth
on His big re-creation day
and the blood of man and animals does flow
while this old world’s time is running out
but continually I am astounded by the day breaking
by flowers, plants, trees and animals
and it’s as if each day comes with new hope.
On my bosom the grass grows luxuriant
where wild game graze peacefully
and here and there a leopard sneaks around
but without fear a herd of giraffes walk past
until a male lion roars in the distance
and then a dust cloud rises
when all kinds of animals go rigid
and gallop away in fear into all directions.
When in the late afternoon the sun hangs lower
Long shadows are thrown by the acacia trees
when a tranquillity and silence lingers
and birds fly up and down and twitter without fear
and baboons gather together in big groups,
while meercats hop up and down in the long grass,
when springbucks triple around playfully
and a crocodile splash into the water.
[Reference: “Die vlakte” (The Plain) by Jan F. E, Cilliers.]
Satish Verma, 7 october 2013
Stealing stones from skinny faces
snipers scratch the colors
of a withered moon at night.
It was anti-rape rally, the footsteps
falling in unison, the blood running out
of strange fruits
and we topple the golden grass under
the toes, hissing at tall trees who could
not protect us from descending fog.
There was no truce. They will not
lay down the arms on table before
sun rises to resuscitate.
The pilot has died on controls. Snarled-up
fingers will not let go the wheels.
The pain has no other name.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 october 2013
Tryst with enemy
bakes the earth.
I am standing firm on dust of times
with rising threat. In vloaks, under the fading
moon they had come,
plundered my yard of truth and blackened
the face of an ancient statue of sun god.
The terror walks on streets
sequencing the genome of unborns
in womb; soot was settling in the lungs
of windows. Tomorrow night word by word
memory will be mauled, uncovering
the pyramids of fear.
Satish Verma
Bron Dayvid, 6 october 2013
It was a cool Saturday morning
The dew from the lawn seasoned the air
With a refreshing scent that floated on a gust of wind right into our open bedroom window
She kisses my chest and gives me new breath
Everything magnifies
The slight breeze becomes a magnificent whirlwind
That gently lifts and carries two souls off into eternity –
A perpetual state of free fall
Holding on to nothing but each other
The souls' eyes never part
Never glance forwards or backwards
Never losing the captivating captivity each has found in the other's gaze
She kisses my lips and the love persists
Everything magnifies
The sunlight tiptoeing through the blinds
Suddenly bursts into enormous flames engulfing all
Fermenting two hearts to dive into the pit of its fiery warmth
To let the sensation of the heat of the moment braze the two hearts into one
Inseparable intertwined
Indestructible enshrined
In this bed we lie
And then she asks
Why do you love me?
Hmm.
Why does the wind blow, brushing against your soft skin?
Why does the sun shine, illuminating and radiating your beauty?
Why does the earth spin, as two spirits dance and twirl in harmony?
And why does one "try" to love, when love is the universe?
So you see I love you……….period.
There is no one reason
Or one word or phrase
That can adequately express this more than what the universe has already provided
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