
Satish Verma, 15 april 2015
Poaching on the brooding landscape
you crashed while scaling the flame.
A togetherness became a half-truth.
How troubled
I had been for basics.
Then shifting loyalties for petty things
you were holding up my soul,
and I did not move with the changing times.
For the rivers
to walk with green trees.
If the words had the answers
to rebel against the eternal guilt,
to beat the death with pain.
Fighting
for the faded truths.
My experiments with lies will continue!
Gert Strydom, 15 april 2015
I do like appreciation
and of it I can never get enough.
Not just to say thank you
but to know that you are thinking of me.
As a mark of your love
it can forever stay with me
and I do like your words:
“you are everything to me.”
But I also believe in deeds
that can gladden my heart
if you can
just give me something
that I know comes from your heart
-to treasure and to keep-
and it will bring you nearer here to me.
Just any thing that you do possess,
even if it is small in value
to me is more than anything here on earth
and I am asking
for something to express your love for me.
Gert Strydom, 14 april 2015
Though the night passes too soon
and the brightness of the moon
fades too quickly with day’s light,
stars disappear
as if they are not anymore shining bright
to you I will forever be near
while you hold me dear
and my loving will not be roving,
but will be true and sincere.
Satish Verma, 14 april 2015
How far? How far the goodness will survive?
Born to suffer, a troubled mind
was punished, for melting down.
Livid with revenge sun bleaches
the man made God, a personal anger.
Executioner was on the street
lighting bonfires of your principles.
A silent hope revolts, like green fire,
evergreen, possessing the pride spurts
of hot flames, as the age grows,
the grieving will stop, and when the borders sleep,
it will rise on the horizon, a new moon on
a majestic innocence
of pure hills in sky!
Gert Strydom, 13 april 2015
I see her standing, waiting in line
outside a prison
as if becoming part of her poem
and it requiems through my mind
and I can hear her asking more
than absolution and see the Yezhov terror
through her eyes
and even when I read her love poems
and are caught in their rapture,
feeling as if she has captured the essence
between light and darkness
when her words end
she fades away like a spectre.
Satish Verma, 13 april 2015
To slice a hope in stark terror
he thought to bid holy goodbye
to destiny, and let himself go
in the shadow of weeping deads.
The orange moon looked mutilated.
Quietly stood a suicide bomber,
ready to get killed for a home in white heaven
and destroying the leaping stars.
Who had the blood on the hands?
Hiding in the white gown,
crossing the shelter, to dropp the guilt
on the road, never to look back.
Century of oppression, like baked blood
shines on the coffins of martyrs.
At dawn the pariahs promise to lead
the band towards democracy.
Satish Verma, 12 april 2015
To slice a hope in stark terror
he thought to bid holy goodbye
to destiny, and let himself go
in the shadow of weeping deads.
The orange moon looked mutilated.
Quietly stood a suicide bomber,
ready to get killed for a home in white heaven
and destroying the leaping stars.
Who had the blood on the hands?
Hiding in the white gown,
crossing the shelter, to dropp the guilt
on the road, never to look back.
Century of oppression, like baked blood
shines on the coffins of martyrs.
At dawn the pariahs promise to lead
the band towards democracy.
Salvatore Ala, 11 april 2015
My love is like the crescent moons of Arab calligraphy,
Like a language that sand erases.
She is also like the little word houses of China
Shining on their bamboo stilts
As the green rice flashes to the east.
Spanish is for the blood rose of her mouth,
French for the azure of her gaze,
Russian for her madness and passion.
Latin is for the mirror of her beauty.
Ancient Greek is our Olympus,
Our long climb to a mythical sublime.
If I spoke Aramaic I could tell you
Of the myrrh and frankincense of her flesh.
Sanskrit is for the mystic knowledge of her eyes,
Hieroglyphs are for the silence
With which she guides me to her living tomb.
She is like the inscription on a stone,
More obscure as it is revealed.
Stephen J. Vattimo, 10 april 2015
my image might be a fright in your sight
but that doesn't mean I bite
I don't have a college degree
But that doesn't mean I am not wise enough to know the difference between darkness and light
I may not be a Pastor or a Rabbi
But I can still share with your the words of Jesus who has the power to lead you from death and into abundant eternal life
My talents may not fetch silver or Gold
But that doesn't mean they aren't gifts from God
But that doesn't mean they aren't anointed for the service of God's kingdom
I may not have a popular name
I may not have power and wealth
That doesn't mean I live in stealth mode
But thats not going to stop me from turning the world upside down
To introduce the hungry to the name of The Bead Of Life
Jesus The Christ.
Written By Stephen J. Vattimo
July 25 2014
Stephen J. Vattimo, 10 april 2015
Jesus frees
If you will believe
Cast away your wondering around in your dark past
Start traveling along His lighted path
you will see that Jesus frees
If you will believe
I started my journey as a black sheep in the fold
always rolling in the wrong direction
So I was starved for affection
I was abandoned by the fold
Instead of hanging me from a tree
They leave me in a dense dark forest
In the care of the hands of the wolves
The Father to the Fatherless closes the hungry mouths of the wolves
He safely lead me back to my fold
Though I try to roll in harmony with the fold
I could not win their affection
I recieved their rejection
Because in their I eyes I was still the black sheep of the fold
They curioused me out of the fold
They thought I would never be a successful sheep
They thought I would roll in the direct of a pig
Spending my days wallowing in the mud
becoming nothing more than a dud
My journey would end on a heap pile of crud
I once again was abandoned to the dark dense woods
The home of the hungry wolves
I found the woods were cold with rejection
No flames of affection to warm oneself by
Blinded by darkness ,for there was no hope to provide light
Wandering around lost ,for there was no direction
Then The Father to the Fatherless
The Good Shepherd
Called out to me
He said," You don't have to be lost any more."
"Join my fold."
"I will never neglect you."
"I will never reject you."
"I will never eject you."
"Cast away your wondering around in your dark past."
"Come let Me make you a new creation,old thing are done away with."
"Let Me guide you along the lighted path of abundant life. "
" For I am Jesus, I have come to set you free!"
" If you will believe you will see."
Written Stephen J. Vattimo
Oct 04 2014
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