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poetry

Gert Strydom, 13 april 2015

Anna Akhmatova

I see her standing, waiting in line
outside a prison
as if becoming part of her poem
and it requiems through my mind
and I can hear her asking more
than absolution and see the Yezhov terror
through her eyes

and even when I read her love poems
and are caught in their rapture,
feeling as if she has captured the essence
between light and darkness
when her words end
she fades away like a spectre.

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Satish Verma, 13 april 2015

DEMOCRACY

To slice a hope in stark terror
he thought to bid holy goodbye
to destiny, and let himself go
in the shadow of weeping deads.

The orange moon looked mutilated.
Quietly stood a suicide bomber,
ready to get killed for a home in white heaven
and destroying the leaping stars.

Who had the blood on the hands?
Hiding in the white gown,
crossing the shelter, to dropp the guilt
on the road, never to look back.

Century of oppression, like baked blood
shines on the coffins of martyrs.
At dawn the pariahs promise to lead
the band towards democracy.

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Satish Verma, 12 april 2015

DEMOCRACY

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Salvatore Ala, 11 april 2015

The Study of Languages

My love is like the crescent moons of Arab calligraphy,
Like a language that sand erases.

She is also like the little word houses of China
Shining on their bamboo stilts
As the green rice flashes to the east.

Spanish is for the blood rose of her mouth,
French for the azure of her gaze,
Russian for her madness and passion.

Latin is for the mirror of her beauty.
Ancient Greek is our Olympus,
Our long climb to a mythical sublime.

If I spoke Aramaic I could tell you
Of the myrrh and frankincense of her flesh.

Sanskrit is for the mystic knowledge of her eyes,
Hieroglyphs are for the silence
With which she guides me to her living tomb.

She is like the inscription on a stone,
More obscure as it is revealed.

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Stephen J. Vattimo, 10 april 2015

I'm Not Living In Stealth Mode

my image might be a fright in your sight
but that doesn't mean I bite

I don't have a college degree
But that doesn't mean I am not wise enough to know the difference between darkness and light

I may not be a Pastor or a Rabbi
But I can still share with your the words of Jesus who has the power to lead you from death and into abundant eternal life

My talents may not fetch silver or Gold
But that doesn't mean they aren't gifts from God
But that doesn't mean they aren't anointed for the service of God's kingdom

I may not have a popular name
I may not have power and wealth
That doesn't mean I live in stealth mode

But thats not going to stop me from turning the world upside down
To introduce the hungry to the name of The Bead Of Life
Jesus The Christ.

Written By Stephen J. Vattimo
July 25 2014

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Stephen J. Vattimo, 10 april 2015

Black Sheep Washed Whiter Than Snow

Jesus frees
If you will believe

Cast away your wondering around in your dark past
Start traveling along His lighted path
you will see that Jesus frees
If you will believe

I started my journey as a black sheep in the fold
always rolling in the wrong direction
So I was starved for affection
I was abandoned by the fold

Instead of hanging me from a tree
They leave me in a dense dark forest
In the care of the hands of the wolves

The Father to the Fatherless closes the hungry mouths of the wolves
He safely lead me back to my fold
Though I try to roll in harmony with the fold
I could not win their affection
I recieved their rejection
Because in their I eyes I was still the black sheep of the fold

They curioused me out of the fold
They thought I would never be a successful sheep
They thought I would roll in the direct of a pig
Spending my days wallowing in the mud
becoming nothing more than a dud
My journey would end on a heap pile of crud

I once again was abandoned to the dark dense woods
The home of the hungry wolves

I found the woods were cold with rejection
No flames of affection to warm oneself by
Blinded by darkness ,for there was no hope to provide light
Wandering around lost ,for there was no direction

Then The Father to the Fatherless
The Good Shepherd
Called out to me

He said," You don't have to be lost any more."
"Join my fold."

"I will never neglect you."
"I will never reject you."
"I will never eject you."

"Cast away your wondering around in your dark past."
"Come let Me make you a new creation,old thing are done away with."
"Let Me guide you along the lighted path of abundant life. "

" For I am Jesus, I have come to set you free!"

" If you will believe you will see."

Written Stephen J. Vattimo
Oct 04 2014

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Gert Strydom, 10 april 2015

Poem on honeymoon (sonnet)

Today I am your darling and your hero
who does accompany you everywhere,
maybe a man with fame and money
that who pays for a holiday at a hotel
and even in your dreams you do see my face
while my hand rests upon your side
and you are bewitched by the words that I say
by the wild passion in each kiss
when your blood flows wild
in the loving between us
where our lives are growing to the most beautiful dreams
and you do discover every thing and part of me
but how will you feel in the days of old age
when hardship or illness may come unexpectedly?

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Satish Verma, 10 april 2015

BURNT OUT WORDS

Tryst with nano was like burning in hell.
Headless body of truth,
turning into invisible particles
flaunts an absent God.

The mist envelops a rag picker –
sleeping on the payment.
Hunger fresh grown will be served,
when sun rises.

Indelible ink an yellow pages
bearing the burden of unborn grief
inherits this globe, the ashes
of burnt out words.

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Joe Breunig, 9 april 2015

Poem: Y-O-L-O

You Only Live Once,
is an idealized concept,
fashioned by the foolish
and selfishness of heart.

Choosing to be self-deceived,
living under a false impression,
they hope that Jehovah’s grace
has been divinely imparted…

allowing them to operate without
constraints of accountability,
responsibility or personal decorum-
while lacking regard towards others.

Within this social, earthly plane,
our temporary encasement of flesh
serves as a reminder that we remain
as Mankind’s sisters and brothers.

Until God’s preset configuration
of my soul’s timer quietly expires,
I’m living today -mindful of Him-
with Faith’s fullness of color!

Author Notes

Inspired by:
John 3:1-21

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.

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Satish Verma, 9 april 2015

BOWL WAS STILL EMPTY

Trying to follow truth
his journey was nightmarish.
Alchemic fusion with past and future failed –
his bowl was still empty.

In the inner space
a largesse, free of present,
becomes the pain of perfection!
Now what to do next?

More afraid of life than death
he tried to manage the fear,
the futility of becoming somebody,
the nihility of ripening in celebrations.

In the darkness, an eye looks
beyond the stars, at timeless silences
of hope, waking, slits of dreams
like lasers, creating new designs.

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Latest items:

poetry

Anna Akhmatova

DEMOCRACY

DEMOCRACY

The Study of Languages

I'm Not Living In Stealth Mode

Black Sheep Washed Whiter Than Snow

Poem on honeymoon (sonnet)

BURNT OUT WORDS

Poem: Y-O-L-O

BOWL WAS STILL EMPTY

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