Latest items:
poetry
Renato N. Mascardo, 23 november 2014
dwindles
dwindles
so slowly
regressively they go
the dwining and the dwindling
instantaneous
no longer
there is a pause
longer and longer
before retrieving
a name an action a creation
the neurons and dendrites
they hobble they trip and almost fall
suspended until
they finally clutch a will-o-wisp of an idea
in desperation and relief
the nows and tomorrows
are replaced
tossed away by
the distant yesterdays
the simpler pasts
looking forward matters no longer
when the cataract of old memories
inundates
going to seed is so much easier
oblivion is such a comfort
ah
time to change my Exelon patch//
renato
saturday 22 november 2014
Satish Verma, 22 november 2014
A Sunny Wait...
Young days start with a nostalgia
for a lost freedom
Anxiety was the prime suspect.
As the age moves on,
truth consumes the virtue.
I hold this insult
in the throes of conscience with tears.
The dreams did not last long
in the wild eyes of geniuses.
Grace and dignity fell short of sinners.
The prince of blackness strode
on the white souls.
I could not have been a witness
of paradox.
Lacked in the old books
I still wait on the highway
for a sun to climb the hill.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 21 november 2014
Encircled GLOOM
Was it a spriritual failure of a man
to become an animal effortlessly?
and how difficult it was
to change the street’s crowd?
In the human drama
no dialogue ends. It begins again
and the hero replays the tragedy.
The fight between one versus many
continues endlessly,
like jungle’s law
where a body is thrown to beasts.
Though I have run out my steps
I will count the miles, I have to scramble.
My hands tremble when I write the
epitaph of a dying light on mount.
It is getting dark now.
Saturn will shortly rise.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 21 november 2014
On the other side of known reality
I
On the other side of known reality
there is a dimension that threads the world bare
and far away of the natural conversance and knowledge
reality is fabricated
and outside the terms of time
there is a place where another reality begins
and on the other side of midnight
time is totally lost
and somewhere in the late night
the subconscious tries to reach to it
and in dreams does built a magic carpet
that can find a bridge to it,
to a world that suddenly does appear
but usually with daylight does again wear out
and does disappear away into the nought.
II
Sometimes however unknown objects are seen,
people witness lights in the sky that does blind them
when unknown forces work in on nature
and people do believe
that other space beings want to find them
and others do want to measure energy fields
as proof that other foreign entities are on this planet
and its as if they do know something about these strange things,
are trying to do scientific research to unknown knowledge
but it is know that a great war rages each day
between Michael’s angelic host
and the evil demonic forces of Lucifer
and sometimes the war spreads far and wide
and man stays caught in the middle of it,
when words and actions
lets the destiny of each human being
hang in the balance.
Joe Breunig, 20 november 2014
Poem: The Grace of Giving
O, there are plenty of untold blessings
that are wrapped in the grace of giving,
but too many are missed by selfishness
and the failure to uphold Christian living.
Real giving is an act of self-denying love,
an act of faith, obedience and worship;
it’s also an act of the sacred and prophetic,
being reflective of our true relationship
with the Father, Who is watching over us.
When we’re moved by Faith’s spiritual shiver,
many facets of God’s blessings are unleashed-
Forever blessed is Jehovah’s cheerful giver.
Whatever you give to God, He will bless it;
so willingly give your life to Him this day.
Choose to be led by Him, while Faith’s perfume
fills His throne room… as a spiritual bouquet.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
John 3:16; Luke 6,21; Mal 3; 2 Cor 9; Zech 4:10
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Gert Strydom, 20 november 2014
Death
To some people death comes serene
but I have seen it coming
with great fear and pain
as a unknown something
wiping clean life’s scene
shattering the lives of those still living
again and again
and yet to some it comes silently as a sleep
while in its dark mysterious phantom some does weep
as still nearer and still nearer it does creep
as a end to things and to life
or a interlude to a new beginning
of that which lies unknown.
Satish Verma, 20 november 2014
First Step of Creativity
When insects were crawling
dreams had contradictions,
a sudden dropp in temperature
brought the quantum touch.
Ending of the grief
or grief of ending
rejected every intact truth
and death was trailing behind the candle.
Fear and agony were following
the footfalls of night
Blindness was weaving a broken moon.
The time will not be answerable for any plight.
Corners of childhood brighten up
for sweet nothings
I adore the fallen god,
he was inhaling the earth.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 19 november 2014
The ultimate question
The ultimate question:
what is love,
why does it exist
and why sometimes not?
Or was it life?
It all depends on how you look at things:
by the heart or scientifically.
Gert Strydom, 18 november 2014
The garden of my heart
The garden of my heart
is empty when you are gone
and its as if every plant
that I have in it does perish
and although
I do give great care to everything
something essential is missing
and I bring everything to inside
and wait like a winter
on a new beginning
and it is as if the sun is away
and as if the frost
does extend deadly cold fingers
while you are missing.
Satish Verma, 18 november 2014
A Rebel Being Born
I do not want to become
plaintiff or defendant.
Untethered, I will punish myself
for metaphysical nuances.
Sometimes a silence talks to grieving sky
about a fake truth.
The tears will never stop now.
Give me my freedom to cry,
to exhume the body of justice
and bury my future in memories
I do not sell the dreams.
Eyes tell it all.
History repeats itself
when message dies on legs!
Satish Verma
Latest comments:
20 january 2026
ajw
Nieodżałowana strata. Dla mnie był Mistrzem.
20 january 2026
jeśli tylko
czyżby..
20 january 2026
bardzo smutno.. coraz mniej poezji..
20 january 2026
z dojrzałych śliwek to najlepsza cujka :)
20 january 2026
dojrzewają, jak ser..
20 january 2026
to efekt "optymalizacji" produkcji..
20 january 2026
Jaga
Końca nie widać, ale można ujrzeć początek.
20 january 2026
Żeby tylko Piotruś nie odmroził się przy
20 january 2026
sam53
... ale ciągle jest na wyciągnięcie ręki
20 january 2026
I sny się starzeją...
20 january 2026
Krówki miały smak i konsystencję krówek,
20 january 2026
Weronika
Nie wiedzieć czemu, koniec się oddala.
20 january 2026
Jaga
20 january 2026
wiesiek
19 january 2026
Jaga
18 january 2026
Jaga
17 january 2026
wiesiek
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wiesiek
11 january 2026
Jaga
10 january 2026
wiesiek
4 january 2026
Jaga
4 january 2026
wiesiek