Latest items:

poetry

Ailill, 17 december 2015

Dream Deer

Why did we meet?
Was it chance or timing?

That morning you tried to trot
through the crosshairs of my headlights
before you bounded off in flight.

First time,
naïve to this side of things,

rewinding my life into slow motion,

like a zen koan.

No thought
of future or past,
contradiction or contrast.

Just awareness,

that didn’t expect,
only hoped……I
might…….Survive.

Diving off the road,

the wheel
with a will of its own,

directed my fate
on this blind date
with destiny.

Between real
and fantasy;

like a dove,
I was Dr. Strangelove
racing toward destruction,

flying.

Not knowing....
where I might land.

Sand colliding,
my ride bucking,
runaway flashing lights,
stage of mind
in siren fright.

No door opened
to welcome me in.

It was just me,
rolling down that hill,

coming to a
stand still.

Strapped upside down,
in wheels spinning round.

Earthbound,
I’ve watched the sun rise again,

but since then, it's been unclear.

Deer,

Is it you,
breathing new life into these dreams?

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 17 december 2015

Full Stop

I allowed you to tread on me unflinchingly.
My mind on pause,
ungrieved you turn back the clock.
Enough to stun the century,
I take cognisance of divine’s club foot.

I did not believe in self-pity
but I was racing against time
to avoid a jealous path running with me.
Yet I was sleeping on bushes of estranged thorns
without locking my golden age.

Tulips are no more my favourites.
You have to dig deep to plant the bulbs
and wait. When death opens the door for me,
I wanted to be free from any commitment
and ready to walk in, like a foot soldier.

This cosmos is mine, body is for you.
It no more obeys my command.
No more commas are needed,
a final full stop will do.
I am returning back to my home.

number of comments: 2 | rating: 1 | detail

Gert Strydom, 16 december 2015

Something about a bird in a tree

I. Solitary

There’s a solitary bird
sitting in the berry tree
as if watching me

and every now and then
pecks a few, before looking again

and it comes daily
and maybe now
sees me as its friend

and I watch it eating
with the sun glittering
on its green feathers
and its long tail
swishing up and down

and when I look away
I do hear it calling, calling
as if trying to attract my attention

as if seeing me looking
holds something of company for it.

II. The going

Why did you not make me aware
that never again
I would see you there
in the berry tree
from early morning
singing from dawn to dusk.

You were chirping and indifferently fluttering
like every other day
and I did not realise
that you were going away
with the setting sun

and now any movement
in the berry tree
catches me to see you,
but only to realize
that a sparrow
is also hungry.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 16 december 2015

Faithless Autumn

Bleak landscape
transcends its shoulders,
writhes in pain.
I praise the light for green haloes
and tall figures, which cast
long shadows on parched lips,
my world. The hot sand fills the eyes.
A palpalable seizure shakes the horizon.

I drift like a dry leaf
on the winds of time
the perplexities of sand dunes
and dancing smoke.
What I was striving for all life?
A metaphorical silence
spends the energy of unspoken waking.
The rich decadence of things unhappned.

The occult rules the flesh
and the music of life dies.
The names start trading the tree,
full of flowers, inarticulately
to faithless autumn.
The twigs long for mother shape
the icons will swallow
the melting grief in vain.

number of comments: 1 | rating: 1 | detail

Ailill, 16 december 2015

Multiverse

Invoked by the eternal Om
strange attractors
attract from a sea
of infinite possibility

Mutual arisings emerge
out of parallel pasts

Each arising a note
on a chromatic scale

Actualizing potentiality

Metaphors of becoming
reflect one another through
a process of relationship
between is and is not

In manifestation
time celebrates the rise
and fall of individual waves

Out of discordant rhythms
one gathers momentum

A frothy foam becomes home
to impromptu jazz melodies
syncopated to love's eternal beat

like a spider spinning her web
everything interconnected
strives toward underlying
unity

World remade
through the rhythm
of breath

Time begins again

number of comments: 0 | rating: 1 | detail

Satish Verma, 15 december 2015

Living Legend

The flame will not die.
I pursue the path of smoke
the virtue of suffering
gives the pure light.
The book knows my inside truth
and tells no one. I weep for the swallows,
I could not feed.
I lay one white
stone for each death.

You will scatter my ashes,
in the abandoned land
where silence walks
and words lie like microcosm
of contemporary hunger.
Life was a cupful of tears.
The voices always spilled challenging
the fidelity of flowing water.

The living legend turns in grave,
I pray for peace
I promised myself to stand erect
when the quake comes.
I will save the flora
and the grass of dying earth.
I ask for one more life
to clear the debt & bleach my guilt.

number of comments: 1 | rating: 2 | detail

Gert Strydom, 14 december 2015

While the year hangs skeleton

While the year hangs skeleton
in this winter
there are sparrows, starlings
and doves catching my eyes

and from somewhere
a squadron of weavers suddenly does arrive
that descends on the seed
that I have spread
like a hungry crowd out of the sky

that does sing jubilant
while they eat the seed
and I know
that the Lord does also
stretch out His hand
with wonderful things for me.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 14 december 2015

Smile Becoming Larger

Being was my forte,
where the words speak no more
a lifetime of black stillness,
the sunflowers sleeping.
The controller and the enquiry
freeze the ozone.
I repent again for all the sins of eloquence,
the rustling of leaves.

Take care of mood,
hoarseness and slippery speech
there is no room for pain.
A whole tribe of thoughts
scatters the lines to avoid
becoming, featureless and nameless.
Boulders are falling on feathers.
I am leaning towards eerie winds.

The other side of the door
was misty. The kiss of fire.
Mind wanders aimlessly.
The destiny breaks the steps
of sleepwalkers. They are falling in dark,
towards dark. A moon rides the clouds,
its smile becoming larger & larger.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 1 | detail

Satish Verma, 13 december 2015

Rose Upon Rose

Let me put back
the rhythm to the song
of broken limbs.
To arrest the speed of sun-set,
for a meaningful dialogue
with the verse of moon.
The poison of floodlit city
grazes my house.
The innocence of the dark suffers.

The white stillness
of empty hands lifts a failure
my heart lives with a death
Intimately. Where the birds have gone?
I chase the wings.
The otherness of love,
the vulnerability of darkness
stays with me.
The thirst of ocean is very large.

Mechanical imitation
of aloneness for a ripe death
it is nostalgia of past history.
Deep in thoughts I run
for my green childhood.
A strange metastasis
from remote guilts. A rose
upon rose piled up
to form a signature mode.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 12 december 2015

The Watchman

Eyes locked, slowly we drift
knowing or not knowing;
A conversation dips in laxity.

The time stood around, eye-deep,
unbelieving steel, which had bent
forgetting the fortress of body.

A narcissus weeps without eyes
waiting for the evidence.
A raging moon will not come.

When nightingale stops singing
how will I find your home?
Far away half-naked sun was hiding.

Ungrateful century splits the human
species. Genes are jumping out.
The watchman had left the door.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

Dream Deer

Full Stop

Something about a bird in a tree

Faithless Autumn

Multiverse

Living Legend

While the year hangs skeleton

Smile Becoming Larger

Rose Upon Rose

The Watchman

Latest comments:

contact with us