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poetry
Gert Strydom, 7 july 2015
I sing the song of the body electric
This morning a lovely girl woke,
showered under hot water from a tap,
dried her hair and curled them with some tongs
before she was dressing
in a neatly ironed blouse and skirt,
got some orange juice from the refrigerator,
fried some eggs and made some toast
and poured a cup of tea
and her eyes were blue and happy as the sky,
her smile was brighter than the sun
and she watched cartoons on the television,
saw in the news
what was happening throughout the world
for some reflection and moments of fun,
before her working day begun
and I do sing the song of the body electric,
the one of technology that is a blessing,
where everything is functioning perfectly
on the power coming from a wall plug
and we all live happy, secure and snug
where no ESCOM South Africa does cut the power off.
Gert Strydom, 6 july 2015
No one can remove
No one can remove
God's great love
and even though odd
that great love of the Lord God
is forever mine
and nothing beats that love divine.
No words can ever describe every bit,
the depth and sincerity of it
as it goes beyond time and space
and is present in every moment and place
and I do know
of His great grace that does glow
brighter than the sun’s rays
and even in my darkest days
His love is strong and pure
and the power of it does endure,
every morning it is fresh
as if of all people God does love me the best.
Satish Verma, 5 july 2015
Smashing The Road Signs
My garden cries for no reason.
Kindness melts into a rain
of twisted petals. And that is it.
Alone I whisper the translucent words,
watching the death of dreams, living fossils.
The sun bakes the seeds.
The essence will not heal,
this bandaged soul,
the conceptual death of a thought.
This fear is like a curled snake.
Must I abandon the path? I know,
I will not forgive me, at this dim joint.
I must move.
I do not know, what to think,
how to catch, the poetry of night.
The light blinks on my eyes.
I walk in the shadows of sounds,
smashing the road signs.
Satish Verma, 4 july 2015
Smashing The Road Signs
My garden cries for no reason.
Kindness melts into a rain
of twisted petals. And that is it.
Alone I whisper the translucent words,
watching the death of dreams, living fossils.
The sun bakes the seeds.
The essence will not heal,
this bandaged soul,
the conceptual death of a thought.
This fear is like a curled snake.
Must I abandon the path? I know,
I will not forgive me, at this dim joint.
I must move.
I do not know, what to think,
how to catch, the poetry of night.
The light blinks on my eyes.
I walk in the shadows of sounds,
smashing the road signs.
Gert Strydom, 3 july 2015
Accounting
I know a man
who accounts the businesses of others
and then do calculate
to let those businesses become his own
while he drinks a toast
on the demise of those that do compete against him.
I know a man
who did take over his father in law’s business
on his father in law’s insistence
and that man do make fools of people
who did work all of their lives
to make that business successful
to be able to get rid of them.
I do know people that without any merit
do fill positions
without a clue how to do their own jobs
and who do ride on the backs of other people
to get the work done
and they have been affirmed in the places of others
and do not contribute any great thing to their jobs.
Still destiny does walk on its own path
and do unexpectedly strike
while with time the existence of every human being
does run out.
What kind of calculations will these people make
when the great Accountant does come
and what will their answers be to Him
when their accounts are continually out of balance?
Satish Verma, 3 july 2015
Smashing The Road Signs
My garden cries for no reason.
Kindness melts into a rain
of twisted petals. And that is it.
Alone I whisper the translucent words,
watching the death of dreams, living fossils.
The sun bakes the seeds.
The essence will not heal,
this bandaged soul,
the conceptual death of a thought.
This fear is like a curled snake.
Must I abandon the path? I know,
I will not forgive me, at this dim joint.
I must move.
I do not know, what to think,
how to catch, the poetry of night.
The light blinks on my eyes.
I walk in the shadows of sounds,
smashing the road signs.
Joe Breunig, 2 july 2015
Poem: Undeniable
Real Love divinely conquers all things,
which are contrary to His, Holy Spirit.
Nothing is too difficult for The Lord;
He is unrestrained, having no limits!
His desires are righteous; His existence
fuels all of creation to meet His bidding;
though His patience exceeds our perception,
we need to remember that He’s not kidding
about His wanting an everlasting family,
that’s fine-tuned with His sacred tenets.
We’ll inhabit Heaven with His winged angels,
having escaped this blue-marbled planet…
for the remainder of Jehovah’s eternity.
He’s undeniable and one day, we’ll see
Him clothed in majesty and eternal glory!
What a glorious day, that date will be!
Author Notes
Inspired by:
1 Cor 6:19; 1 Tim 3:16
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Gert Strydom, 2 july 2015
At twilight when the sun dips beyond the nearest hill (Rubiyat/ Persian sonnet)
At twilight when the sun dips beyond the nearest hill
the dark winter night comes with its entire chill
and when in the early evening the last car drives by
silence falls over the neighborhood and everything is still
and at times I could see no stars or even the moon in the sky,
or even a lonely light’s solitary eye
while slowly the dark hours creeps on
and on the wind I hear a child’s forsaken cry.
At times it feels as if every kind of heat and brightness is gone
as if in this great big world I am the only one
and on such nights I do wonder about life and the meaning of it all
when even my body and heart feels as cold as stone
but then suddenly the early morning does come
and again this big old world feels like my home.
Satish Verma, 2 july 2015
Intense Poetry
Breaking the path
by random steps, you move,
and thoughts make a ritual dance.
In a wingless flight,
a cosmic gloom envelops you.
You try to stop the dark tremors,
Yet you don’t feel safe in a crowd.
Life has changed
it does not touch the younder.
The brain does not work,
and memory is not authentic.
Emotions are bruised,
and time is becoming ruthless.
Knowledge explodes the myths,
and hurls the naked truths.
In a corner of my heart, a song dies
I refuse to listen, I decline to see,
a world crumbling before my eyes.
My unbeliefs engage,
the intense poetry,
of my turbulent mind,
to understand the virulent pain.
Michel Galiana, 2 july 2015
Peniun (Breaking off)
I: in Motreff
1. The young man declared one day
As his house he was leaving
- I will go round to Motreff,
It will be entertaining:
For I am going on my way
To pass where Sweetheart should stay.
My heart pounds and my thoughts stray
At her silver glances! (twice)
2. - Good day, good day, my sweetheart
Good day to you I'm saying
I have seen your door afar,
That I cannot help cheering.
- Sir, you carry along with you,
Loads of compliments, you do!
Pretty speech is a thing to
Which I never object! (twice)
3. - When I was staying at home
I did visit you daily.
More faithful than I was none
But you would make fun of me.
I was as faithful to you as
Is the nightingale that has
Its perch on the branch of haw-
Thorn and sings its ditty. (twice)
4. - Chaffinch, and nightingale
Are birds that stay most freely
Amongst the leaves of mount and dale,
Each of them a homebody,
But if you care to have a look
At all the birds in a book,
No one as seriously took,
As the dove, loyalty. (twice)
5. For no one is half as faith-
ful, as the turtledove is
Who, when of its mate bereft,
At short notice deceases.
- O, this is the way I would fare
Most certainly in despair,
Should once my sweetheart so fair
Break my heart to pieces (twice)
6. - How could it be, say, young man
That with me you were angry?
Would you not come to Melan,
To Melan to be with me?
- To Melan, for sure, I would go,
But not to tell you "hello!"
Since, my lass, so far I know,
We shall never marry. (twice)
7. - What grounds, tell me, have you got
For such foolish assumption?
No reason why you should not
Come and see me in Melan.
- I'll go to Melan, certainly
But I shall return quickly
You may choose anybody
To be your companion. - (twice)
II: in Caraix
8. 'T was on Nativity day
Of the Virgin Saint Mary;
To the Pardon on my way
I saw her quite abruptly,
I edged my way to her side
I had no reason to hide,
And whatever might betide,
We were to speak frankly. (twice)
9. - What a surprise, our young man
Made up his mind to see me!
That you did bother to come
About that I'm uneasy:
Because I am not allowed to
Marry this year, so that you,
In case you had come to woo
Should give up the idea. (twice)
10. - Why should I give up an i-
dea that's but your own notion;
Chains of love that used to tie
My heart to yours are broken.
That's why I have come back again
For a walk in your domain:
Just a lily shall remain
There, and it's you, maiden! -(twice)
11. First time when I said "adieu"
To a lass, was in Carhaix.
Down her cheeks tiny tears flew,
Lost joy in darkest array,
The time for parting had come now,
For regret did not allow.
Which the lass refused to know
Before I flew away.
Translated from the Breton
Latest comments:
17 january 2026
sam53
myślę że to jeszcze nie koniec tegorocznej
17 january 2026
podoba mi się komentarz... dzięki :)
17 january 2026
Weronika
Nie ma zależności. Podobno.
17 january 2026
violetta
Kiedy będzie to niewiadomo:)
17 january 2026
O tak:)
17 january 2026
Dziękuję i pozdrawiam:)
16 january 2026
Jaga
Bogactwo błędów, ileż to szkół otwartych...
16 january 2026
Szybko się psują :))
16 january 2026
Stary zegar w czasie przyszłym już dokonanym,
16 january 2026
Nieobliczalny, choć mierzony w milisekundach:)
16 january 2026
Uznali, że nie warto wskrzeszać przeszłości.
16 january 2026
smokjerzy
smycz już się wydłużyła...:)
16 january 2026
wiesiek
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Jaga
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31 december 2025
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