
Gert Strydom, 19 may 2016
Was the Son of God ever seen aeons ago strolling on South Africa’s farmland?
Did He take the fine red-brown earth in His omnipotent hand
where now are the factories, the furnaces and the concrete buildings of hell
and I wonder where is an untouched place that firmly does stand
while human beings are under money’s evil possessing spell?
(Still life is just a brittle, wilting, decaying strand
while we do in technological palaces dwell.)
Is there anybody who still does God’s countenance of love display
and who still does walk upon His righteous way
right up to the New Jerusalem
while the forces of darkness creep into the very day,
while God does keep the winds of war in check
or do I struggle alone along the narrow way?
Satish Verma, 19 may 2016
My nativity at peril
I wanted to stay away from myself
seeking anonymity in inwardness
Death had drawn a circle
my mode of survival depended on
the hopelessness of life
The ant-hills were growing!
The final assault will take place at night
at spiritual depths.
I will be seething with fake acoustics.
Kissing the blue lips of dawn
night bids adieu.
I will move quietly behind the corpse
A dark tribute to the mother of sorrow.
Flames on river, my body was burning
in blue waves
I was repeating history.
Gert Strydom, 18 may 2016
You never came
and time caught on to me
while I waited in vain
and still you did not know
that I was expecting you
to appear out of the blue.
Longing gave a wish to me
to be with you
but even though you love me too
the pressures of live demands
that I am here and you are there
and at times live isn’t fair
and divine you are
but a human still
and what can I say
but how much I miss you.
Satish Verma, 18 may 2016
Death was the beginning. My emancipation.
Death of pre-memory thoughts. I am ready to
enter the sound, without a shadow.
The fire from orifice, clouds, tears and
cascading blossoms in a humming night. Love,
clap and dissolution. The construction of timeless
energy. Flight of future. Your resistence
melting like lips, going beyond the chasm.
A sculpted freedom for prophets. False disguises,
some body else’s identity. Eyes were cool but
tears controlled by remote pain. Mirrors
spooking. A knife knows its job. It is better
to slice the sky. Great thirst for hip
graffiti, tattoos and sketches. To be seen
and admired by dregs of social fabric.
The thought surges like the heaving
breast, hangs on the face.
Death was the cracking of dawn.
mvvenkataraman, 17 may 2016
You try, you must try
That is the only way
To reach so high
And gloriously stay
When you die
All must for you pray
And together sadly cry
Respects, all will pay
If love is in your eye
If mercy, you display
You create a lovely tie
Everyday is your day
If you say never a lie
Driva anger ever away
Say to anger so good-bye
If for it you turn a prey
Can't save you even Sky
To keep away from dismay
You ask the question- Why?
Your doubts, you convey
Never fear or feel shy
Love all without delay
Love to none, you deny
A kind word you ever say
To help all you always try
For month you say 'may'
Doubt none by being a spy
Tell not at any time, 'I may'
Your firm mind, you imply
Go only on the right way
Affection, you kindly supply
For you is devoted this lay
View it not with a sigh.
mvvenkataraman
Gert Strydom, 17 may 2016
I am afraid, my Lord divine,
that a life of constant trouble is mine,
that most men do part from Your ways
and do not see the way where Your glory does shine.
In this world of constant chaos You are the omnipotent deity,
the only one who set men from their troubles free
and yet evil brings this world closer to the Judgement Day
while all peace and rest is only in Thee,
while by science men try to prove that You are not
and a twisted, distorted view of You they have got
while with mercy and love You do offer restraint
and do not destroy, devour or remove the lot
while You do possess immortality,
are from the evil ways of this world free
and selfless love is in Your eternal plan
while You do dwell in infinity
and are trying to save all the descendants of man.
Satish Verma, 17 may 2016
And now the pain wants me to speak,
the words, but I wanted to listen
like winds and keep back the thoughts.
I refused to move from the scene.
God was bleeding
and his dolls were strewn around
on marble floor
broken, dismembered.
No tree was safe now.
The sky had cracked,
off the light. I cannot reach.
The dark thing shoves in,
from a precipice, I am falling,
falling!
The pomegranate blossoms?
Where are they?
I am not afraid of a terrorist.
I fear more of the shape
of the humanoid eyes
they are red, very red!
Satish Verma, 16 may 2016
Nothing to look forward
I return my gifts today.
Completely denuded I will spread out in emptiness.
I was nowhere in the circle of untruths,
the pain was slipping inside
and self-denial took its toll.
Nomad in exile
for the kiss of unknown
wandering in whispering streets.
There was no more remorse.
Saffron was the choice of pathos.
A collective suicide of pledges in the sun!
Parallel grief of desert and wind
offers the plundered toast
I drink to my parched lips.
Renato N. Mascardo, 15 may 2016
sunday afternoon
robin
is strutting in
the backyard back and forth
round and round like a high-strung
cadet
blue jay
mourning dove and
blue jay are eating grain on
the grass side by side uncaring
sharing
a soft
piano piece sneaks
out of the stereo on
this day it's good to be back home
again//
renato
sunday 15 may 2016
Joe Breunig, 15 may 2016
The anger in them rises
cause they’ve lost their inner Light;
gone are their chances for Love;
so they rail against the night…
without an understanding.
When blinded by defeat’s grief,
they lash out with their hatred.
Jealous of your victory,
their vitriol is blood red-
stuck in misunderstanding.
Serve Christ and His Kingdom, while
covered with His holiness;
please Him during Life’s routines;
shine brightly with Righteousness.
Live your Life with Faith’s branding.
Wear holy armor each day;
let your joy attract the lost;
revel in Faith’s contentment;
remain grateful for The Cross
and show Love’s understanding!
When you really consider it,
there’s no reason for a debate;
Love doesn’t justify itself,
seeing that… haters gonna hate!
Author notes
Inspired by:
Prov 9:7-12; 1 Tim 6:6
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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