Latest items:

poetry

Satish Verma, 30 june 2014

WANDERER

It was a taxidermal view
thousands of fawns on the lake.
Can you handle the die-off
of the whole truth?
I have nowhere to go. Genes are
turning on, turning off. Bare hands
holding the bruises.

Hungry, but cannot eat
looking at the tattoos on the back of
starving children.
I am sick these days in the midst of glory
and shame. Faithlessness is a prize
wrapped by shadows. The snakes
are climbing on the walls.

Human things, like chimps
kissing and hugging to calm down.
in memoriam of a lost tribe.
The body of a chaste god
lies buried under the debris of unholy secrets.
Homeless I wander, beneath the high sky.

Satish Verma

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Krishna Shivkumar Yadav, 29 june 2014

DEPARTURE

My whole life I nurtured thee, the light of my home.And now the time has arrived when I shall bid youfarewell. Clad in red silk on thy wedding day, with thescandal paste on thy forehead, and adorned as ayoung bride I’m losing thee tonight. But beforeembracing and plugging you into my chest, finallytransferring a cache of affection, I shall handle thelight of my home in groom’s hand taking my departurein the shadow. And when thee as a young bride inwooden palanquin had gone, I shall wash my eyes withmy tears unbeknownst to thee.

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Satish Verma, 29 june 2014

KNUCKLED DOWN

Fearing the haze of ending
this body does not behave now.
Puppet show was over.

Punch – drunk we move
amidst the psychopaths, who were
foraging the aroma from armpits.

Loincloths hanging on the strings to strangle
the pigeons.
Everything moves with precision.

Sex on the mind.
The master wants the untouched flesh,
quietly without any sound.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 28 june 2014

LINEAGE

It was set on fire, the market place:
from a distance I was watching, the
hieroglyphic climate of the cutouts;

some shoes with yellow human feet embedded
in them, were thrown on the images
of gods, lying on the steps of tanks:

on hills the sex workers were doing
brisk business in private retreats
of the holiest of towns, a golden dome

was being erected as an insult to poors,
the streaked priests chanting the sacred
hymns, hurling the abuses on red faced

simians waiting on the rooftops,
ashamed to share the inherited lineage
but why one should kill one’s own daughter?

Satish Verma

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Gert Strydom, 27 june 2014

Every day I find something new

Every day I find something new
in what people do or say
and every now and then
the world does ring
with something that is exciting

and sometimes your kiss
and your touch is just a touch and a kiss
but at other times its much more
than just a time of bliss
and at times means far too much
in the way that life is.

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Gert Strydom, 27 june 2014

A poem for Zimbabwe

With know-how and trust
seeds sprout from the dust
and with the summer sun and rain
the fields are full of maize again

but with the skilled commercial farmer removed,
even if the land is loved
famine does come
to each and every home.

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Gert Strydom, 27 june 2014

Many small miracles

Throughout life different places I have been,
various things I have seen
and although some days seemed odd
many little miracles came from the hand of God.

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Satish Verma, 27 june 2014

FIREFLIES

A pagan will search for antiparticles
after a collective wrong:
some tantric will throw up the smoke rings
before the poean starts.
Come, stand beside me,
sadness is going to find me again

on the oak tree. A hairy spirit climbs up
to give a call of a touch wood for a voyager.
The viscera has been packed for the
final verdict of a forensic lab.
Now I have nowhere to go
between myself and truth.

It might not end, the poor conversation
between life and death.
The eyemask saves the guilt of sleepless
nights at old punctuations. Makes
the words ferocious for the lamenting cause.
From tree to tree the fireflies swing.

Satish Verma

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Joe Breunig, 26 june 2014

Poem: In Him Alone

In Him alone, I find perfect rest for my spirit.
My soul’s satisfaction is girded by Salvation;
Christ is my rock, my fortress of protection,
and the lasting source of my Faith’s foundation.

In Him alone, I place my entire, unshaken trust.
Today, the enemy continues to assault my soul,
using his pain weapon of lie-laden speech;
yet, His Love exudes power that makes me whole.

In Him alone, I have placed my heart’s hope.
My dependence, remains on Christ, as my refuge.
Therefore, I stand with my personal conviction,
against the enemy’s onslaught and false deluge.

In Him alone, I have gained the final victory.
The sting of Death has been eternally conquered;
spiritual provisions were provided in advance;
in the cleft’s rock, my life has been anchored.

Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Psa 62; 1 Cor 15:55-58; Exo 33:12-23

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

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.

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Gert Strydom, 26 june 2014

There are times that I pray (Italian sonnet)

There are times that I pray
for those that I love and know
and sometimes the words just flow
and at other times I have got nothing to say

and on every single day
God does His goodwill bestow
and with compassion my words do sometimes glow
or they are swept away

like leaves blown in the wind
and sometimes some thoughts do remain
when some problems to me are too much
but before I know it I do find
happiness instead of pain
when God do lives silently touch.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 1 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

WANDERER

DEPARTURE

KNUCKLED DOWN

LINEAGE

Every day I find something new

A poem for Zimbabwe

Many small miracles

FIREFLIES

Poem: In Him Alone

There are times that I pray (Italian sonnet)

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