Latest items:

poetry

Gert Strydom, 17 november 2014

King David

The women sing
David has defeated Goliath of Gath

and the Philistines flee
when David is king
as they are scared that he is going to obliterate them
and David and his Israelite army is formidable

as a omnipotent God is guarding him
with whom at times he deliberates
and God says to David: “you cannot build my temple
as on your hands there is blood”

and ten thousand men fall before him,
ten thousand men and many more
but David has got remorse over his ways
and stays trusting the decrees of God.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 17 november 2014

Mask unmasked

To become or not to become a renegade,
or to die or not to die for a semi-god?
These were some of the questions
thrown at an incomplete script.

What elevated you to a celebrity?
Your hump or deep wrinkled groans?
Age is abating, abattoir is empty.
Exile from the past is over.
When you intend to comeback to childhood
and become a simple star?

Behind the mask lies the embrace of death
I am afraid the flames will engulf,
the genius of pathways.
Everything will turn into obsolete gossip.
A patch of sunlight becomes a costly exposure
bones are entwined in eternal cuddle.

Satish Verma

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 16 november 2014

CATASTROPHE

Are you genuine, I ask?
Your face, a stone wall,
I had been bruising my psyche against it.
I have no strength to bury myself alive,
in the mass grave of lies.

An ancient fear
descends from the hill.
Wants to marry a tree.
Or worship the terror
of a diaspora.

The vultures are dying every day,
We were talking of pregnancy,
desire and death.

The sparrows are gone.
Heat is rising.
I am starting the countdown.

Satish Verma

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 15 november 2014

Ancestral Present

Pardon my mask
I will put you on pedestal to torment me,
because you were necessary
for my existence.
When I prepare finally my death wish
you can smile.

Your eyes are looking through my head,
I know,
you were hurt from my moon face.
I will wash your feet with my tears now.

Exhausted, nameless in a crowd
I was counting my see-through triumphs
all piled up as burned out bones.

To live without meaning is very painful.
Everything is abused for self gratification.
Over a black sky, against the mountains
the old silence becomes teeth of a dead faith.

Satish Verma

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

E. de la Garza, 14 november 2014

Grasping for war and faith and treasure to say, I am victorious

Single words audible in the din, bear one moment into the next
In cords of slack memories privately threaded or strung or woven,
Colored by the when and the where of the light and hunger and
Aching for warm scents of belonging to the world no matter what
Eyes create in each ten pound universe shackled to this cauldron
Of roiling myths and the fleeting stench of birth, knowing what is
Believed is the only knowing, not the shouts or the calm voice or
Any words to justify the illusion of now-- and seductive eyes and
Countless paintings locked behind them-- keening for the fleshly
Morsels, livid or rotting, to join the damned in joy and hope and
Love-- an endless montage of believing that the mote we live on
Is somehow better for the fist shown to or the back turned to the
Night-- and cleaving to each other and legacy, clutching trinkets,
Grasping for war and faith and treasure to say, I am victorious.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 4 | detail

Gert Strydom, 14 november 2014

We sleep together

We sleep together
with your stomach and breasts
touching my back,
later stomach to stomach
with your arms wrapped
around my body

and in the morning
you enjoy a plate with fried eggs,
toast and tea in bed
and bright-eyed reserve
some sweet kisses for me.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 14 november 2014

A LIVING SOUL

Anxiety was touching the mime
I cannot hold a reality.
We were playing with each other.

The creation and hunger of living
takes you to unknown fields
I am, what I am not.

Always bluffing, puffing on the road,
counting the milestones
in reverse osmosis,
feeling proud of mighty mistakes,
talking to faltered ego,
going against the sun.

My climate merges with hot desert
A story reappears again and again
like a dried skeleton in sands.

How long I will run
chased by planetary fears?
Barbs pierce the tender zones
I see my own demise,
body floating like a flower on lake.

Satish Verma

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Joe Breunig, 13 november 2014

Poem: Generating Thirst in Others

Table salt without pleasing flavor is useless,
like a weak Christian lacking “good works”;
for the World is in need of divine examples
of how to live within the Kingdom’s framework.

There are many souls craving spiritual waters,
to have their endless abyss of thirst quenched.
Are we testifying of God’s Love to reach those
in strongholds- where they’re firmly entrenched?

Unless there are obvious and significant change
in the personal behavior of our everyday lives,
the World will have no real motivation for faith
when there’s no evidence of transcendent lives.

We’re still called to be the salt of this planet,
demonstrating victorious lives as saved brothers;
As Christians, we’re supposed to add loving flavor.
We’re responsible for generating thirst in others!

Author Notes

Loosely based on:
Matt 5:13; Jam 2:14-26

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

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Gert Strydom, 13 november 2014

I rise to prepare breakfast

Woken by the black-collard barbet
knocking on the window
as a token from the gods

like a acolyte dedicated to your service
I rise to prepare breakfast
consisting of toasted chicken mayonnaise sandwiches,
some squeezed orange juice

and the tender relaxed serenity
fills your face with a kind of dignity,
a kind of uncommon grace
and when you look up at me

I see a warm pleasant welcome
almost like the rising sun
displayed on your face

and your slender arms
reach out to me
drawing me down
to soft sheets and a hot pillow
and to you.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

Satish Verma, 13 november 2014

A SEARCH BEYOND QUEST

My thoughts halt at your lips
beyond lies your silence
to start a voyage in snowy dialogues
to find a meaning of futile life
and trash of the myths.

Our entwined life has chosen
consolation of past,
We are still alive
kicking and reveling.

A shadow imitates the God
meditates under the unyielding tree.
The fugitive may find some greatness
in insult.
The vastness of loneliness
ultimately takes over.

Satish Verma

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

King David

Mask unmasked

CATASTROPHE

Ancestral Present

Grasping for war and faith and treasure to say, I am victorious

We sleep together

A LIVING SOUL

Poem: Generating Thirst in Others

I rise to prepare breakfast

A SEARCH BEYOND QUEST

Latest comments:

contact with us