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poetry
Satish Verma, 28 may 2016
Charity
Sometimes death lives for eternity,
a captive of silence,
or in hidden journey to flesh;
unless the body betrays the falling stars from eyes.
Dying was an appropriate thing
a festival of freedom for veils,
to leave you alone with your morality.
This terrible life ejects you
on the gravel to become a stone.
The fall from the beautiful height
was meant for charity.
No body wants to die for a toss-up
with life,
for a secret game of tears and smile.
The true thing of despair generates
a darkness, whom I owe my light.
Gert Strydom, 27 may 2016
I have missed my country
I have missed my country
and suddenly did land in another world
where everything is third worldly
and does fall apart and is backwards.
Before I could wipe my eyes
people are working in government offices
and they do believe that the day of tomorrow will come
to do the things that is necessary
with those that had been qualified
pensioned off early
so that everything is in a mad confusion
and I am lost on another planet.
Satish Verma, 27 may 2016
Void
As if my inner sound was demanding
take me for
meiosis;
I want to break into many daughter things.
Half my genes
half my color
partly male
partly female
disowning the boundaries,
my lasting pain of grief and anguish
becomes an androgynous god.
I hear the voices in brain
I see the nebulous thoughts dancing
I touch the fallen tears
from faceless eyes.
All my thoughts are leading to void
coming from nowhere
going to nowhere,
I am water and I am sand!
Gert Strydom, 26 may 2016
The sardine run
Near autumn each year
shoals of spawning sardines gather
to travel from their living arias
(in the Southern and Western Cape)
along the hot waters of the Agulhas Current
moving inshore against the coastline
(up to about Durban)
before dispersing and travelling
back to their home waters.
Hungry gannets hover above the shoals
before diving from heights
of up to thirty meters
with wings half closed
piercing the water like arrowheads
gulping down fish
as fast as they can,
floating on the water in great numbers,
having lost the ability to fly.
squawking as if complaining
that they cannot eat anymore.
On the fringes of the shoals
huge numbers of sharks, stingray, kob,
skates, kingfish, tunny,
barracuda, snoek, tuna, and bonito lurk
in the warm water
but never going
right into the shoals
and ashore numerous anglers
are trying to catch game fish
all along the coastline
while the sardine run is on
and some people
gather buckets full of sardines
from the waves on the beach
if the fish dare it
too near to the shore.
Satish Verma, 26 may 2016
Suicides
In despair,
beyond-pain, I will watch my dreams
in rimless eyes of wet faces.
The lake had been sending back
the white and black shrouds
everyday.
They were jumping one by one
old and young,
from the twisted planks
holding geraniums.
A warm prayer on the lips,
what was left worth enduring?
The innocence, the guilt, the shame?
Clinging to bloody lumps of happiness
who is going to have a last laugh?
Time is breathing gloom,
body is attached to a pole.
Gert Strydom, 25 may 2016
He lies stretched out in the sun
He lies stretched out in the sun
in the area next to the rugby field
that is still wildly overgrown at places
where a game reserve had been at a time.
He is safely fenced in,
protected against homeowners,
even some schoolboys
that wants to throw rocks at him
and like a wild animal
his hiding place is in the thick grass,
in the thicket and trees around him
there are birds that gambol
and some are building their nests.
He watches them somewhat hidden and amused
and he looks with mistrust
at the young man
that notices and calls him.
Ignoring the human he washes himself further,
does stretch out contently in the sun
and he cannot decide if he wants to climb a tree
or do want to find his prey in the gutter,
where he watches the world with his cat eyes
which yellow-green
does regard everything around him
and where he lies stretched out
he is the king of his own region.
Satish Verma, 25 may 2016
Of Gods And Virgins
Treading on burning cinders
it was a saga of fear versus unknown.
Stripped, before drooping eyes
scarred, armless, unflying.
Into the regeneration phase:
not a single word, single concern
of yourself, you walked to arrive
without adding a question.
There was a movement without ripples,
death of the black, mottled, many.
I, becoming transcendental scion
of whole, sincere entity.
Melting to start a romance
in the house of petals,
of fragrant pheromones
deluging the phoenix.
To want the crowd, select a colossus
cadaver spreading on mushrooms in field
erect a man in white bones, unrivalled
jealousy of virgins and gods.
Gert Strydom, 24 may 2016
Africa
When I look to my own continent
there are only ruins of places
that at a time was glamorous and I struggle to fit in
the beautiful places where waterfalls does roar
and I see people who are ravaged by famine, war,
unrest and a population explosion,
people who die from pestilence,
who live totally immoral,
and wild animals do disappear into hungry stomachs,
while I am blinded by the sand
as if the desert is crawling
deeper and deeper into the continent
and the political majority does devour everything
until nothing is left for anybody.
Satish Verma, 24 may 2016
Shivering Doorway
Savage absence of you,
I miss your assaults
what was actual in you, I never knew.
Neither flesh, nor spirit
had helped me.
Somewhere there was a planet I missed.
Or a miracle?
Ending of means was the center of conflicts.
Time was running out.
Genetics tinkered
matrix unmoving,
what implants will be needed for dazzling the heavens?
The desert was crying.
Proud generation charred by transcripts
begins singing.
Falling leaves recollect the pain.
Possibility of pregnancy exiled,
the shivering doorway was closed.
Gert Strydom, 23 may 2016
There’s no other country
There’s no other country
where I have seen the same blue hue
in the sky, have experienced
the same notion of experiencing
something so pure.
There’s no other country
where day by day
I have experienced the sun
flying up in its arc
like a eagle on its wings
but then one morning
a series of gunshots awakes me
where my neighbour across the street
lies bleeding
with robbers racing away
with his stolen car, passing me in a blur
and I wonder if he is still living,
rushing over the road to try to help him.
Latest comments:
10 january 2026
Natali
dotąd
10 january 2026
dobrze, że to tylko złudzenie, które może
10 january 2026
taki widok tylko z oddali /dla tych, co w korycie
10 january 2026
violetta
Oj nie bardzo, nie poznałeś jeszcze Jezusa:)
10 january 2026
Fajne życiowe rozpędy :)
10 january 2026
Zima się daje we znaki:) Mróz mi zniszczył
10 january 2026
ais
Ależ pięknie...
10 january 2026
Śnieżne pączki z rączki do rączki :]
10 january 2026
Dzięki za nieśmiertelną Marylkę.
10 january 2026
lustro kałużowe
10 january 2026
orzechowa nowalijka
10 january 2026
zielenią zawładnął makowy
10 january 2026
wiesiek
10 january 2026
Jaga
9 january 2026
wiesiek
9 january 2026
Jaga
8 january 2026
wiesiek
7 january 2026
wiesiek
6 january 2026
wiesiek
5 january 2026
wiesiek
4 january 2026
Jaga
4 january 2026
wiesiek