Latest items:

poetry

Gert Strydom, 10 january 2014

Infatuation

I remember your green-brown eyes
innocently finding mine,
how your mouth noticeable did twitch
and how totally blinded
I thought that you were an angel
and unaware of the church
for half an hour looked at you.

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Satish Verma, 10 january 2014

THE GOODBYE

A marble calm under the shaky gaze
was parsing the human pain. I would
lift the calculated grief from folded earth.

You feel badly bruised and racial war
becomes anathema. Past the age eyesight dwindles,
cannot identify the faces of dead.

O my God! Bizarred bloated eyes filled
with blood were groping for the fallen walls.
Who had dug the garden with grenades?

A theme hunger separates the hearts. When
desert was the bed for daughters and sons,
the fathers were shaking with hate.

The shine wears off the love. A different world
under the lids. Miracle does not happen.
We were searching for the doors.

Satish Verma

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Joe Breunig, 9 january 2014

Poem: Within My Heart

Can the pain of human suffering
prevent me from being made whole?
How should I properly express
the inner dimensions of my soul?

Can the depth of my understanding
reach that of King Solomon’s intellect?
How often must I pray to receive
answers from the Divine architect?

Thankfully, my Lord is merciful,
gracious and patient with me;
for I carefully consume His Word,
wanting these blind eyes to see.

The treasure of Your Word’s worth
for me and my life will never depart.
O my Lord, I desire to do Your will,
for Your principles are… within my heart.

Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Psa 40:9, 103:8-9; 1 Kin 3:1-15; Jam 1:4-5

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

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.

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Insatiable Sohail, 9 january 2014

Walking on the Beach

I wish I could walk on the long beach all alone.
Where all my sadness would flow.
The noisy waves keeps my inner loudness silent.
But the sunset cries for me all alone.

When this water touches my feet,
My soul becomes cold
And starts narrating my story once told.
Yet again but don't want to hold
Those memories which are now old.

number of comments: 2 | rating: 3 | detail

Gert Strydom, 9 january 2014

To me you are the most precious and beautiful women

To me you are the most precious and beautiful of women
someone that believes in me
while life comes daily with a new kind of omen
and although our love is how it ought to be

still I want to cherish you, and I want to do
the things that will make you happy
as all of my feelings are true
and you are someone really great to me.

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Satish Verma, 9 january 2014

DEATH AND APOLLO

Honeymoon with history was over.
A two headed snake was sitting on a coin
of leather in grass. Blue tongued

jewel was going to serve the enormity
of destination. Disquietingly, decomposed
relics were coming out of the rubble. Coil

of thoughts becomes a vector of violence.
Cobwebs of increased blood supply to
malignant battle. You die in your own

vision. The awns of oblivion pierce the
wings of dumbfounding words. Offering
shows the fear unlimited. Prices

crash in a meltdown. Poverty holds you
in doorway. Feathers understand the boundary.
A flock of sheep was butchered by a wild beast.

Satish Verma

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Gert Strydom, 8 january 2014

There was a moment

There was a moment that I knew you are wonderful, my wife,
when you did treat me as if I am your very own
and in your heart there was much more than just pity
when you did trust me with your heart’s deepest secrets
but to every moment I do not want to cling
as in every other experience
there is a kind of deeper knowledge
as if days with greater promises will continue.
It’s as if I find something beautiful in everything of you
and there is greater value to even the most insignificant thing
as if everything makes a person more bonded and happy
and when at times you and I are lost like children
it’s as if greater and better things just wait to jump into each day
and life continually becomes better in the grace of God.

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Satish Verma, 8 january 2014

WOUNDED FLIGHT

Instead of pain sublime in body of death
and bracing a hailstorm of bullets
you embrace a white phosphorus
to burn for whole life, as a reminder of

collective suicide. Like my lost children
I am collecting the words to weave a phrase
against the destiny for capturing this moment.
The vast crowd will decide the fate of frigid winter –

to upstage the sun. Barren trees overhear
the wailing winds. Lake of death will outlast
the mirage of inward suffering. Chariot of
Apollo vaults to inconceivable height.

Satish Verma

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Alicja Kuberska, 7 january 2014

The life risk

Everybody wants to be loved,
But not everyone can give it.
Egotism builds a lonely house
With strong and solid walls.
There are windows without a view
Of the future shared with someone else.
The doors are not locked and
It is possible to push them open
And risk happiness.

number of comments: 1 | rating: 2 | detail

Gert Strydom, 6 january 2014

On love and making love

The act of love brings men and women to their delight
whereas the art of love burns
like a candle through the darkest night
and involves the mind, body and soul
and makes even broken people whole

and in a world where passions reign
and embodies the wonder of being alive
love does much more than making love contain
as at its heart lies a kind of sincerity
that binds and makes a person free,

that takes away the sin from sin
when with true love
mere men and women do begin
when making love is a mortal thing
and true love is a gift from the godly being.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 1 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

Infatuation

THE GOODBYE

Poem: Within My Heart

Walking on the Beach

To me you are the most precious and beautiful women

DEATH AND APOLLO

There was a moment

WOUNDED FLIGHT

The life risk

On love and making love

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