Latest items:

poetry

Satish Verma, 28 october 2015

Loyal To Death

An answer becomes a question
without an effort.
The world hisses
in filaments of joy.
My hands become
green branches of a huge tree.
Terrified sun moves away
with all its glory.
I empty myself in a circle of voidness.

It was a sad chapter
the beginning of violence-
the heat dries up the sweat on brows.
Standing in the sun I watch,
how we are dismantling each other.
The innocence of civility,
eclipsed by ferocious flesh, loses symphony.

The fatal, brutal, savage times.
We are running
to reach nowhere.
The tension creeps under the skin.
The impurity of thought
hurts like broken glass.
A barren land forgets
the man & remains loyal to death.

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Satish Verma, 26 october 2015

Spiral Descent

Where the laughter ends,
sorrow makes an entry.
The black cloud drifts towards you,
a gift of unknown to nameless.
The sacred bond of blissful ignorance.
I remember that I am still alive today,
my friends are gone.
I see a light on the hill.

So beautiful in its death,
a song lies on my lips
I face the world
with a wound in my eyes.
Space of many years
between me & my defeat.
Time has not come for farewell.
Cannot afford the luxury
of breaking down & then disintegrate.

Alone I watch you in fascination,
the slow spiral descent.
My watch stops again & again.
Suddenly I start speaking the truth
about the deception & the lacerating wounds.
There is a longing for a frozen moon
and a melody melting in the air.

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Satish Verma, 25 october 2015

Spider

I was very restless today
somebody had overplayed the hand
to grab the absolute.
Light was searching the earth
and earth was moving inside me.

I wanted to pack up and go
to meet the truth.
The lips had left their print
on the empty cups.
The ragpicker was waiting.

My toes had met the brutal stones
of godhood. I was puzzled by new
methodology to make man free.
As the grass grows through the carcass
a cataract is trumpeting blind.

I was afraid of the huge web.
The spider was nowhere in sight.

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Satish Verma, 24 october 2015

Silence Of Doors

How can you salvage the theme of god
from the forbidden knowledge?
Must affinities have a reason?
The precarious life hangs
between birth & death.
Crying all the way for immortality,
I ask myself for the end. Was it beautiful?

The ending becomes a climate of personalities
from return to return.
The anonymous call of history
overthrows the silence of doors.
A hard rock strikes the clumsy head.
You cannot take a turn,
another step takes a plunge.

You don’t dare to face yourself,
It was frightening.
A text was bruised and the book was bleeding.
Mapless you tread on broken paths.
Nothing was on record.
Was your god climbing up the stairs?

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Marya Christina, 23 october 2015

Sick

Can’t figure out what’s wrong with me
I tried to warn you now, you see?
But you just want this game to go on
And I feel obsessed, too weak to let you go

Cause I enjoy to see you suffer,
I’m a haunted soul, rotten.
Can you blame me?
Keep provoking and you’ll see

I keep my promises, never abandon.
I promised to see you on your knees
It’s satisfying me cause I am sick.
Scream whenever you miss me,

Make me a better person
Just don’t look for other reasons
Don’t complicate this,
Just leave it as it is.

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Satish Verma, 23 october 2015

Song Above The Sorrow

I missed the heartbeats for a vessel of stars,
while death was always near,
circling the house.

The network of sorrow,
beams to world.
Can symmetry of pain
provide a plank for the sinking mind?
I cannot hold the curling smoke of a tainted fact.
The fear, the anxiety,
empowers the animal look.

An uncovered seed sprouting into
tiny root on my hand
starts a conspiracy.
People talk about the meditation,
and senile body shrinks.
There is a song above the sorrow and
freedom from the assassination of ideologies.
Hold my arm!

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Joe Breunig, 22 october 2015

Poem: Joy is Possible

Joy is possible, when we know
that we’re secure in the Lord.
With tenets of Faith employed,
we can rightly wield our sword

and defeat our defiant enemies.
Speaking over bad circumstances
clears the way for divine answers
and for abundant Life to advance.

Joy is possible, when we believe!
The joyous excess will bubble away,
watering those who hungrily thirst
as we knowingly enjoy… the sway

of Heaven’s peace reigning over us.
We dwell in safety by His protection;
being in real fellowship with Christ,
we’re creating an Elysian connection.

Joy is possible, when we recognize
that He causes believers to prosper;
His divine success is realized in…
the strength of prayers whispered.

Author notes

Inspired by:
Psa 4:6-8; Phil 4:4-5; Job 1:10; Jer 29:11

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.

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Satish Verma, 22 october 2015

Strange Enemies

If the lineation wins,
I will not pardon myself
the dots on flesh will glare.
A dummy hurricane,
will envelop the ruinous body.
The death will stalk and the predators,
will have the field day.

My own truth cries for an,
idea of making a complete suicide
on table. Inside the guts
flows a column of skimmed fakes.
Directions break the geometry of sleeping faith.
It was not worth trying.

In mind between the dark and grey,
lies the pale of truth.
This perspective is a constant pain.
Where will the thoughts end
and the ripples begin?
Arguments have become
strange enemies in war of words.

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Satish Verma, 21 october 2015

Sparks In Woods

Some depth,
my thoughts never touched,
the moonlight fades on my window.
The vague gratification,
falls silently on my mind.
Pausing on relativity,
I open the door to eternity.

Vast loneliness of qualms,
like the cult of dancing doubts
where was the choice?
I felt guilty at the fall of truth.
Black grass was not my doing.
My blood dripped
on every count, on every tear.

I don’t need questions anymore.
Give me landmarks.
Darkness was for me.
I will walk relentlessly
in search of light.
Alone, you will remember the fire,
the spent spark in woods.
It makes a difference
when you are picking flowers.

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Gert Strydom, 20 october 2015

There is a time when night sneaks in

There is a time when night sneaks in,
when the roof creaks, while losing its heat
when chairs, tables, cupboards and all objects
become indistinct
part of the darkness of the night
and then my love
it’s a magical thing
to have your hot body against mine,
to feel you’re lips brushing on my skin
to become enveloped by you
as if everything is away
in a different reality.

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Latest items:

poetry

Loyal To Death

Spiral Descent

Spider

Silence Of Doors

Sick

Song Above The Sorrow

Poem: Joy is Possible

Strange Enemies

Sparks In Woods

There is a time when night sneaks in

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