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poetry
Gert Strydom, 14 july 2014
When I did loose my heart to you
When I did loose my heart to you,
you did bring a change to my life
and to other people it was but insignificant
but every day it made me glad
and when I did hear your cheerful voice
my heart sang with joy.
When I did loose my heart to you,
you did bring a change to my life
and still you are enchanting me continually,
you are involved in everything that I do
and for you I want to help where I can
as my life do overflow with love for you.
When I did loose my heart to you,
you did bring a change to my life.
Satish Verma, 14 july 2014
FUTURITY
The show is on.
Sedition will play with death now.
Deceitful black knives, white gloves.
No hope, battle lines are drawn.
The wasps are whirring at a furious speed
stings ready to inject venom.
Bronzed body,
huge turbaned skull.
Eyes looking beyond you,
hauls you through slumber
of ages. The autopsy extracts out a bullet
fired at close range, poured into chest.
Death had a party.
Frilled guns,
yellow metal
are ready to kill.
Extended pain of centuries haunts the future.
Give me the tearful farewell
for another ruined journey.
We will bury the present, forget the past.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 14 july 2014
Something greater
I saw soldiers in pain,
some shot up, soldiers wounded
and some bandaged
doing their duty
and some even going insane,
I saw heroic men
going far beyond duty
not thinking of themselves
and more about the welfare of others
and some of them were doing exceptional things.
The were men who lived as if today
was the only day and if tomorrow
would never come
and all of them to me
were the greatest of men,
but then there were bullets holes
even on the church wall
like the blasphemies of man
chipping away at the greater good
where a minister of God stood
with a bible in his hand
and that holy man had something
clinging to him, as if God Himself
surrounded, embraced him
with utter goodliness, being humble and sincere
and that was something greater
than any man I ever had met.
Satish Verma, 13 july 2014
FARTHER AWAY
To disconnect oneself
you push apart, from the stasis,
like flesh from the bones.
Coming home becomes dreadful
when you discover yourself.
A dark energy impels you
in a cosmos which was drifting
towards eternity. A fight between
space & time ultimately settles
for a second life.
Paralysed mind goes into dementia.
A riverbed, waterless, where you can dig out
the ancient marbles, edifice of a great flaming past.
It was obscene. At a hunger meet
tables were set with delicious cuisine.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 july 2014
THE VISITOR
The wait begins adorned with symbols
for shadow to fall
between hope and pretention.
The moon will talk
when the dew returns
and clouds are hiding.
He will come in a black cloak
for a final assault
with broken promises.
Is he untouchable?
You cannot embrace him?
Walks like a ghost between me and you.
Our past, open-eyed, the truth
happens on road
in crowd, in our home.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 11 july 2014
Ballade of the hours of darkness
(after N.P. van Wyk Louw)
Our love did wither like a flower,
with the morning-light came silently to an end
and this morning we both are without words
as we do not really know each other.
Where we had been deeply involved in bodily pleasure
we are estranged and blunt with each other
and the emotions that were overwhelming
they now are stripped and bankrupt from love
and last night desire did burn in us both
with a tingling in your hand
when it was soft and vulnerable in mine
and your smile was luring and forward,
your eyes the brightest blue
and when I did hold you closer
there had been something that I could not place
when you spilled wine on my shirt
and now that it’s the new morning
you are much prettier than in the darkness of last night
but that which had been between us is past
and now carries no meaning
and only the smells of love and whiskey does linger
where the sun radiates brightly into your kitchen
and with you here in your own home
I feel redundant, unwelcome and lost.
Our love with the morning-light came silently to an end,
did wither like a flower,
as we do not really know each other
and this morning we both are without words.
[Reference: “Ballade van die nagtelike ure” (Ballade of the nightly hours) by N.P. van Wyk Louw.]
Gert Strydom, 11 july 2014
To you there’s an amazing kind of grace (Novelinee)
To you there’s an amazing kind of grace,
as your eyes shines radiant, words they do tell
as the hot sunshine falls across your face,
you are happy, are being loved well,
suddenly you look up and smile at me
are brightening a very lovely day,
you shake your silky hair, let them go free
in strings of colour, in lovely disarray
and I love you, I wonder if I may…
Gert Strydom, 11 july 2014
Sennacherib
Sennacherib king of Assyria
send a message to Hezekiah king of Judah saying:
“Do not be deceived by your god
when he assures you that Jerusalem
will not fall to me.
Haven’t you heard
what the kings of Assyria
have done to all the other countries
and how we have destroyed them completely?
Who will deliver you now? Did the gods
of Gozan, Haran, Rezeph, Hamath, Eden,
Arpad, Sepharvaim, Hena or Ivvah protect them?”
In humility Hezekiah went to the temple
and prayed:
“Lord, enthroned among cherubim
You are alone the living God
who rules over all kingdoms
and have created both heaven and earth
and it’s true that the kings of Assyria
have destroyed the gods of these nations
and have conquered these nations and their lands,
but their gods were only wood and stone
created by man.
Please deliver us from king Sennacherib
that the entire world may know
that You alone are God.”
Then the prophet Isaiah
send king Hezekiah a message:
“The Lord says that Sennacherib
has blasphemed and insulted Him
and has lifted his voice in pride saying
that with his chariots
he has ascended mountains,
that he has drawn water from foreign wells,
has dried up the streams of Egypt
but I know where he lives
and when he comes and goes
and he has raised his voice against me.
I will make him return from where he came
for out of Jerusalem My remnant will come
and out of Mount Zion a band of survivors will come
and he will not enter this city,
even shoot an arrow here
or come against it with shields
or build a siege ramp
and I will defend this city.”
During that night the Angel of God
waged war against the army of Assyria
killing a hundred and eighty-five thousand men
and Sennacherib withdraw to Nineveh
where he was killed by his own sons
while worshipping his god Nisroch.
Joe Breunig, 10 july 2014
Poem: Hymnody
Within the sacred music of worship,
we’re to open our hearts and sing;
flowing from our tongues should be…
genuine praises for Christ our King!
Though the structure of songs vary
between spirituals, hymns and psalms,
in every instance, we acknowledge Him
with our uplifted bosoms and palms.
In making joyful noises unto our Lord,
there’s a freedom of melodic release;
unashamedly, we honor Him together-
contented in our sense of inner peace.
Within all forms of the Church hymnody,
we should experience… a divine rhapsody.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Eph 5:18-20; Col 3:15-17; Psa 98:3-5
Hymnody: The creation and use of extra-biblical poetic and musical compositions in the worship of God.
For more information, please visit:
http://www.laudemont.org/a-stp.htm
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Gert Strydom, 10 july 2014
The Flying Dutchman
With age-old masts creaking,
cursed by Godly wrath,
just before the worst storms in the Cape do begin
an ancient ship is sighted sailing
as a token to break the scorn and blasphemy of man
or so the legend says, with a skeleton at the wheel
of the Flying Dutchman, full of ungodly sailors
who forever glare at each other with thoughts of revenge,
as a spectre strait out of the portals of hell
and if I do remember correctly
there is no salvation or sleep for anyone aboard
and everything turns around the love of a woman
that lived in the most beautiful Cape
and now I wonder how long that ship is still going to sail
as every now and then some seamen do notice it.
Latest comments:
22 november 2025
violetta
Warto rozpalać;)
22 november 2025
Aczkolwiek obojętne, ale lubię ten nastrój:)
22 november 2025
Jaga
Skrzydlatych jest wielu, a skrzydełka różnobarwne.
22 november 2025
Przedsmak białych świąt.
22 november 2025
Całkiem niezła ta podpałka.
22 november 2025
smokjerzy
na głodzie, to nawet jak się tli, to się pali...
22 november 2025
Świetny wiersz, pełen sugestywnych, otwierających
22 november 2025
Weronika
Tli.
22 november 2025
z nazwy wynika, że to karma aniołów...:))
22 november 2025
zanurzyć w tym stopy i umrzeć...:))
21 november 2025
Och życie też przykuwa uwagę na coś niemądrego:)
21 november 2025
Piękne podziwianie:)
22 november 2025
wiesiek
21 november 2025
wiesiek
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Jaga
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Jaga
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ajw
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wiesiek
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Jaga
14 november 2025
wiesiek