Latest items:
poetry
Gert Strydom, 10 may 2016
Once I wrote a kind of happy song (Orléans rondel prime)
Once I wrote a kind of happy song
but could not record its sweet melody
and then I was longing for somebody
with whom my life did go terribly wrong
and the rhythm of that tune stayed, was strong,
while the words was somewhat like a parody.
Once I wrote a kind of happy song
but could not record its sweet melody
Now of that song I have lost the body,
lost it like a child a among a throng,
do not know where any words do belong,
it could have been a kind of rhapsody,
once I wrote a kind of happy song
but could not record its sweet melody.
Satish Verma, 10 may 2016
Black Walls
Aura begins from tongue
to spit fire and frozen rain
in the epileptic rage of insanity.
Excruciating charm of august mind
is fading.
Life wants to humiliate the sunshine
and hate desires to meet its rival in disguise.
Hope’s termination had a beginning somewhere.
I search the inky sky for a star.
The void did’t have a center
A collection of tears becomes an art.
A bit of sin here,
a grain of guilt there.
The ending of dark stairs
depends on the black walls.
Gert Strydom, 9 may 2016
There is no other saviour
There is no other saviour for all the woe of humanity
than You my God,
no other person in the universe that does set men free
and some people find it odd
that I do find my peace and hope in Thee.
Satish Verma, 9 may 2016
Without A Name
In the triumph of flesh,
when fame of the world was your thing,
a sequence of defeats piled up
and time became stronger than the symbols.
Was it not easier
to abandon the consciousness?
Living a dog’s life was more comfortable
without a qualm.
How painful it was to know the reality unclothed!
You had achieved nothing in life
and were readying up now
to receive thoughts of death.
Time had no beginning
and time had no end.
Do you think all will be well at last?
Will we be happy without you?
Or you will be remembered as a hero
without a name!
Satish Verma, 7 may 2016
Saturn Will Shortly Rise
Was it a spiritual failure of a man
to become an animal effortlessly?
and how difficult it was
to change the street’s crowd?
In the human drama
no dialogue ends. It begins again
and the hero replays the tragedy.
The fight between one versus many
continues endlessly,
like jungle’s law
where a body is thrown to beasts.
Though I have run out my steps
I will count the miles, I have to scramble.
My hands tremble when I write the
epitaph of a dying light on mount.
It is getting dark now.
Saturn will shortly rise.
Satish Verma, 6 may 2016
Ambulating Pain
A candid confession from you,
when your identity started protruding
from innocent rage.
You were accepting defeat
without a fight.
The lips tell the grief of human failure,
your prudence propped up
by Prozac.
A beautiful collection of anxieties
adorned on the shelf of life.
A cruise in veins
to dispel the high cholesterol
dewy-eyed mirror
and ambulating pain.
Gert Strydom, 5 may 2016
Alone we come into the world (for my mom on mother’s day)
Alone we come into the world,
beginning as cells
from somewhere unknown,
fall into life and the experiences of it
and are born from a mother without choice
but if it was possible to choose a mother
no other one would have been as wonderful as you
and my existence is knotted into your life
from the time of my first heart beat
and although you are frail with the years
still firmly you stand against the blows of destiny
and to me mother you are very special throughout the year
while at times life does frighten me mother
and still you take all of my cares to God.
Gert Strydom, 5 may 2016
With hunger in your eyes
With hunger in your eyes
you did look for a moment at me
with a gaze that does not recede before anyone’s
as if from me
or from someone else you would find help,
as if I had to hear you begging voice
and you did tremble in the cold wind
and somewhere you did loose your own humanity
and again
you wanted food from me
where you were wandering helpless between the shops
and I did not know what to tell you
as life did also turn its back on me
and I did draw the old jacket tighter against my body.
David de la Croes, 5 may 2016
Autumn III
Floundering branches
asphyxiate in silence -
casualties of storm
David de la Croes, 5 may 2016
Autumn II
Silver grey clouds brush
the crowns of dark-green pine trees
Droplets see-saw, fall
Latest comments:
12 january 2026
Jaga
Zdaję się w tej kwestii na łaskę i niełaskę
12 january 2026
To już Pani Zima na włościach. Mróz, lód
12 january 2026
:)
11 january 2026
ais
Pięknie :)
11 january 2026
Dziękuję! :)
11 january 2026
Niezłe hybrydy panienka Zima wyhodowała xd
11 january 2026
violetta
Myślę, że szybko przyjdzie, krótkie będzie
11 january 2026
Tak się życie dwojga plecie/ w mieście, gminie,
11 january 2026
Słońce ledwo zza wzgórz wyjrzało. Dziękuję
11 january 2026
Tajemnicze i groźne.
11 january 2026
Powroty są najlepsze :)
11 january 2026
Gdy głowa cień swój w myśli pokocha/ w osobie
11 january 2026
Jaga
10 january 2026
wiesiek
4 january 2026
Jaga
4 january 2026
wiesiek
31 december 2025
wiesiek
30 december 2025
Jaga
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka
27 december 2025
marka