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poetry
Satish Verma, 14 january 2016
Between Fear And Courage
I visualize you all time,
my death,
A beautiful partner of my life
my redeemed ego!
Hate was not showing
its concrete face.
Love has lost the scent
and pshyche is leaving the path
of abstract truth.
Bruised, I loathe to go
in this unbridled ordeal.
Intuition or stupidity?
A spotless dialogue I dream
between fear and courage.
At end,
life can flow quietly
amidst the promises
clasping the peace, at its breast.
Satish Verma, 13 january 2016
Hope And Banality
Tired of exhibitionism,
nostalgia for an eternal
herd of thoughts -
moves for the real intent
the intensive thirst for unknown.
The lie stamps the vanity on a pseudo book.
Everything turns in a rage,
and pain strips to bone.
Dressed in his gaudy fame,
great idol lifts the arm.
Must I become a part of this motley crowd?
The return is difficult
for the disowned faith.
Great hips, broad shoulders and pointed nose
reach nowhere.
Beneath the disillusion lie the shades
of hope and banality,
to choose a tomorrow
which will never arrive.
Gert Strydom, 13 january 2016
Long Beach
On long beach
we swam in the cold water
before walking up to the wreck
of the Kakapo
which were covered with sand
with pieces of rusting iron
sticking out
like a big skeleton
and a round semi-circle at the back.
The sand was soft
and white under our feet
with Chapman’s Peak and Noordhoek
towering up above us,
within walking distance.
Satish Verma, 12 january 2016
Layered Aches
Strange it looks,
some one crying on winning a race.
He was o loser and a victor.
After such a long fight,
what is left on a banished field?
broken skulls and roaring laughter,
Everything was crushed under falling snow
of ruthlessness.
And over the fire hangs a skeleton
of past.
The real truth again hides in the
Survivor’s eyes.
There is no witness of any crime.
The court adjournd and the symbolists
rejoice.
Justice has come for a sale.
The highest bidder will get the chair
now
Now will begin the layered aches
in heart.
Gert Strydom, 12 january 2016
As my eyes gaze into the dark night
I do not need stars to tell me
that my life, my destiny is written,
that somewhere someone reads
some thoughts of mine
and that everyone has a impact
on each other.
As my eyes gaze into the dark night
trying to see past eternity,
I keep looking for the light,
to see the presence of the One
that guides me.
Gert Strydom, 11 january 2016
I see her dancing gaily
I see her dancing gaily
swirling the leaves outside
as if her spirit would forever be young
and although the autumn of my years
is all ready leaving its marks
I am still strong in body and spirit
and now a more mature man.
I see time creeping
into the corners of my body
and ever slowly chiselling
the features of who, I am
but still she embraces me
as if she’s part of the divine
with the knowledge of her ways
as if the entire world is mine
and yet sometimes I am cold
from her breath kissing my cheeks
and I realize
that I am turning old.
Satish Verma, 11 january 2016
On The Breast Of Flames
Dismembering the wreath,
he went on celebrating his own demise.
Shadow had become a white shroud.
He was spitting blood, when slugs,
hit him from behind.
No body remembered his name
We had been dividing the roofs.
My moon and my sky.
I feel my eyes have turned into marbles.
Castaway I float on conscience, with
blemishes, doomed muscle.
Sun and water were baffled.
Raged against the invisible walls
I was breaking my knuckles.
No body knows, who will outbid
whon. I am lying low,
to rise one day
like sphinx,
on the breast of flames.
Satish Verma, 10 january 2016
Whole Truth
Let it be as such,
my long cut tear,
Do not dramatize the wound
and put it as an exhibit.
No attempt should be made to mask the fated pain.
Wait for me at the end of the road.
Not for me,
I grieve for the fallen trees, tall glory of past.
It was a question of survival.
Survival of the best, which could not continue.
There is reversal of equatization.
Man has become superior to god.
They are using Him, I am afraid.
Urging him to commit a natural suicide,
a logical ending of a patriarch.
The stage is set for a mass mourning.
A big conspiracy had been brewing
in prisoner’s cell,
which had been in full possession of
whole truth.
Satish Verma, 9 january 2016
A Home In My Home
Messengers are out,
dynasty strikes.
A haze of dust storm filters down in tearless eyes.
Not caring, not grubbing my inward eye.
I am becoming blind.
A white moon starts bleeding
under the weight of wingless stars.
You never said,
I never heard the rich voice within
the rocks. A tale went to asylum.
we trembeled under the trees, listening to war drums.
Totems were incoherent. Temples were mute.
I am nude in my wounds,
cannot raise the hands, cannot hurt anybody.
A swallow has made a home in my home.
Satish Verma, 9 january 2016
A Home In My Home
Messengers are out,
dynasty strikes.
A haze of dust storm filters down in tearless eyes.
Not caring, not grubbing my inward eye.
I am becoming blind.
A white moon starts bleeding
under the weight of wingless stars.
You never said,
I never heard the rich voice within
the rocks. A tale went to asylum.
we trembeled under the trees, listening to war drums.
Totems were incoherent. Temples were mute.
I am nude in my wounds,
cannot raise the hands, cannot hurt anybody.
A swallow has made a home in my home.
Latest comments:
14 january 2026
Jaga
Kocham cztery polskie pory/ wiosnę, lato, jesień,
14 january 2026
Nie zawsze czas uczy pogody.
14 january 2026
Jeśli znajdziesz drogę, wszystko się może
14 january 2026
Łapią słońce bez bikini/ takie trendy dziś
14 january 2026
To prawda. Za to piękna gra światła :))
14 january 2026
smokjerzy
jakieś wychudzone te pietruszki...:))
14 january 2026
jakiś tam...;)
14 january 2026
od zawsze próbuję upchnąć zbyt wielkie w
14 january 2026
jeśli jest dokąd wrócić...:)
14 january 2026
i prawie mu się udało...
14 january 2026
Weronika
Chciał się powiesić na wymyślonej gałęzi.
13 january 2026
sam53
na pewno jakiś sposób...
14 january 2026
wiesiek
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