Latest items:

poetry

Gert Strydom, 10 june 2014

How long?

At the robot light I see a child
in dirty clothes and his hair blown by the wind,
his cheek is swollen from toothache
and where he is begging I wonder if he is going to find any help?

The old man near to the bridge has lost his job
at the Aurora goldmine
and he is grey but his arms looks strong
and I wonder what kind of hope he has?

At another place an old lady is standing and she tells about her daughter,
that she is suddenly pregnant
and she is confesses sing about her own life
where she is counting the few coins that she gets from people

and I look at a world that is falling apart
with jobless poor strugglers almost without number
and how long I ask the God of the universe
when pistol shots ring out down at the Checkers chain store.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 10 june 2014

MILLENNIUM CELEBRATING

I was ready to board the ship
laden with terror on mortal waves.
The patriarch was dying inside
the sleeve of hidden rocks.

Hope and death,
death and hope
flicker in dark. What if the blasts
start again in the cool air?

The planks lick the salt of earth.
Lipless mouths cannot speak.
Departure of sun was blameless,
unanswerable to human wails.

Satish Verma

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Talat Jehan, 9 june 2014

Journey

When we are forced to follow and choose the journey without their destination..
When we are pushed to walk barefooted and with wounded feet..

When we don't have choices..
When we don't have alternatives..
When clouds of uncertainty and disappointment are all around us..
But still we have to walk in a dark..

When we finally reached the door of our destiny..
But there is no key to open and enter that door..
We think we are hopeless and reached a point of no return..

number of comments: 13 | rating: 3 | detail

Gert Strydom, 9 june 2014

At times I wonder where her thoughts go (sonnet)

At times I wonder where her thoughts go
if of my loving, caring and commitment
she really truly knows
or is there a kind of excitement,
in lashing out pain and verbal blows
and then when I am broken and spent,
she carries on as if nothing has happened while my tears flow

and yet our feelings are brighter
than all the stars set in the skies
my love is much more pure and whiter
than any new pluck lily or rose
and I wonder if she knows
about my silent cries,
when she brings pain to our goodbyes?

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Gert Strydom, 9 june 2014

In the morning when I draw my eyes to slits against the bright light

In the morning when I draw my eyes to slits against the bright light
there is magic
that the new morning brings
while I know that I am really living
and I see the butterflies already fluttering on the breeze,
hear birds of which the songs of joy penetrates the soul
and every bee, even the smallest thing
are busy with a praise song.
When dew on the branches are still shining like diamonds
and the sun glitters with every ray in filigree
there are flowers opening their cups
and even though my life at times feels bitter
and this kind of living feels like only a curtailed existence
I do know that I serve an omnipotent God.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Gert Strydom, 9 june 2014

Where you stand with the garden hose

Where you stand with the garden hose
a seed plume whirls
all around us on the afternoon breeze
and it waits hanging for moments,
bright water shoots through your thumb
and I wonder how many days do remain
to be so perfect when we are together?

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 9 june 2014

IN OUR BREASTS

Taut flesh of toxic seductress
comes out of the skin,
rolls in the dream.

A century buries the neck of God
and creates the words
of unbroken greed for useless faith.

A path stuns the sharp thorns.
Nothing would stop the seeker,
he has to annihilate the rival.

Somebody takes an aim
at the dancing egos
and brings down the marvel.

The bitter feud continues, between
stars and moon.
The molten lava moves like a snake.

Satish Verma

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Scott Clark, 9 june 2014

“Stirred Grit”

Mean as stirred grit,
reach in
and pick none of it,
Load bullets,
Frick it.
Its just grit.
Don't need this... shit!
Or that... to wit,
just my bullets,
Power slivers,
make ya shiver,
and dem quiver.
They will deliver
Believe me,
you'll see....
Pea!

…...................BANG!!!!

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Scott Clark, 9 june 2014

Dreary Days

The dreary days of yesterday have gone about the morrow,
while we dwell in this fine day lets forget about our sorrow.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 8 june 2014

STONED

It was a mid night knock.
A cloud laden sky
had sent a message.

The moon was trembling
like a collateral pain
in the blue.

I had not slept the night,
if I could bleed.
A toddler had drowned head-on

in a half-filled bucket
and some rodents had sheared
away the toes and ears of a sick child.

You give me hurts, for glassy eyes.
The claws on my neck,
I can hardly breathe.

The severed paws and intact canines
of a skull morph into a roaring beast.
There is no water in my eyes.

Satish Verma

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

How long?

MILLENNIUM CELEBRATING

Journey

At times I wonder where her thoughts go (sonnet)

In the morning when I draw my eyes to slits against the bright light

Where you stand with the garden hose

IN OUR BREASTS

“Stirred Grit”

Dreary Days

STONED

Latest comments:

contact with us