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poetry
Satish Verma, 16 december 2014
BREAD OF A MOON
For little grains of truth,
listening to intuition
he disrobed – and walked into river
to die.
In the footsteps of silence
to eat bread of a moon
facing the onslaughts of life.
Death walks in stealthily,
pays the price of hunger
to the ruins of a fortress.
Gert Strydom, 16 december 2014
If I cannot find you
If I cannot find you
as the ray of sun
among the splendours
that this world holds
then they are nothing more
than just empty colour and form.
If you are not there to love
then life has lost its meaning
and the world has just become
an empty place
and everything in it
has lost the essence
that it truly holds
If your love does not exist
then living is in vain
and the world
just a place full of pain
without any consideration
belonging or care.
Gert Strydom, 16 december 2014
I had dreamt of you
I had dreamt of you
living in a world
where skies are always blue
and you loved me
with a kind of sincerity
and we had much joy
as just a girl and a boy,
had a kind of innocence
while our thoughts
whirled up like incense.
Your smile radiated like the sun
while you loved my like your only one
and our companionship was sweet
while butterflies fluttered at our feet.
You kissed me with sheer bliss
and there was magic in this
but I had to go then
back to the world of men
as promises I had to keep
and I was devoid of further sleep.
Gert Strydom, 15 december 2014
With you (Rubliw)
With you
forever seems
a very short distance
and long gone are the lonely days
while some enchanting moments do abound
and you do spin my life around
changing it in some ways,
even my dreams
to you.
Gert Strydom, 15 december 2014
We are like two flowers (Rubliw)
We are
like two flowers
growing wild among rocks
and the wind and sun come and go,
the wet rain falls and lightning does flash down,
all the seasons of life does pass
and although I do care
days do run on
and on
Satish Verma, 15 december 2014
INWARD JOURNEY
And the lineage of existence
does not fade.
I try to wipe off, the heavy showers of
death, daily.
The pains were rising, in every word,
in every talk.
As part of nothingness, I was trying to find
happiness.
Put the shadows down, touch the questions
again.
The mentor wants blood, truth was in body,
small seeds of life.
Wrapped up, dry, cryptic, to suck at the
fears of birth.
You are becoming a tree, roots, branches, leaves
against a serial killer.
Satish Verma, 14 december 2014
AN ACID RAIN
This is it, I want to say.
An acid rain falling each evening
and you, reading a poem
surrounded by flame – attendants.
Nothing moves farther than activism.
Conversation centers around the flares
on the surface of an orange sun,
a big hole coming up in the ozone layer.
You are an ocean, needs penetration
of inquiry. Running a relay race in
a big cage to keep the torch
burning. Clouds in the sky
objecting to full moon, coming up,
nonchalantly. Landscape rips – off
the ideas from the thorn
in the heart.
Satish Verma, 13 december 2014
PACEMAKER
Hunger comes back like a dagger
on face. With iris and fingerprints.
Live, fluttering butterflies, stuck
on lampshades. Wrecked, frozen, the ending
of seeming. Men in cages.
They were diluting the culture.
Chlorophyll siphoned off. No color,
no sprouts. The roads were dirty
with the ultimate truth, quarreling with the
water, insanity and vertebrae.
The creamy stuff, shouts and pants,
shunting the definitions. People come
and go from the paintings. There is no age bar.
Spring will be released from the impulses
of flesh in naked zones.
Ideas become pacemaker, for the ailing
heart of polity.
Satish Verma, 12 december 2014
SICK TIMES
And how shall we trace the
trajectory of a lungless scream
coming out of a slit throat?
Time was overrun by gnostic
resentment in absolute mind.
The fury of a gathering food riot:
do you hear the memorial rising,
rising –
on bones of hunger, swollen eyelids?
Soon they will meet on the bellies.
The fumigation starts, of lies
a bactericidal, to wipe out the germs
in dumb minds. The prognosis failed,
life moves in a tunnel, absent
and present!
Gert Strydom, 12 december 2014
How sadly I have been absent in this spring (Rubiyat sonnet)
How sadly I have been absent in this spring
while new sprouts and flowers were rising
when the loveliest hot days you have seen
and our love had been a struggling withering thing
and how stripped like winter have our lives been
without a hot summer day between
while our love should have been at its prime
as a plant that is with new growth green
and yet it was if there was in destiny no time
and to everything just the coldest deadliest clime
but in hope I am still waiting on you
to forgive every word and every kind of crime
that you do hold true to me
but does actually lie in your own insecurity.
Latest comments:
19 january 2026
Jaga
Nie jesteś zbyt surowy? Tu czasu brakło :))
19 january 2026
Mróz, słońce, tylko śniegu brak. Wysuszy
19 january 2026
sam53
chodzi zima po świecie :)
19 january 2026
smokjerzy
być może to już szóstego dnia Bóg powinien
19 january 2026
i dojrzałe śliwki - pod warunkiem, że trafią
19 january 2026
Świat błędem stoi.
19 january 2026
Ja znałam katechetkę, która rzucała kluczami...:))
19 january 2026
tylko bardzo dojrzali ludzie potrafią przyznać,
19 january 2026
ile błędów, tyle szkół, ile szkół, tyle
19 january 2026
w dzisiejszych czasach to raczej z Red Bullem...
19 january 2026
ot co...
19 january 2026
co, gdzie, jak, kto...:))
19 january 2026
Jaga
19 january 2026
wiesiek
18 january 2026
wiesiek
18 january 2026
Jaga
17 january 2026
wiesiek
16 january 2026
wiesiek
15 january 2026
wiesiek
14 january 2026
wiesiek
13 january 2026
wiesiek
12 january 2026
wiesiek