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poetry
Bipurna Tara, 9 september 2014
Love
What you are
Or whatever you do
This is the environment
To be weak
To love you.
Gert Strydom, 9 september 2014
There is a kind of loneliness
There is a kind of loneliness, brokenness
deep in your eyes
a searching to a deeper meaning
and deeply moved
I wanted to bring something holy and honourable to you,
my inability
had me tattling when did come near
and with your great beauty I was astonished.
Gert Strydom, 9 september 2014
In the back garden
Where children try to catch peach beetles and butterflies
there faces are radiant and red cheeked,
the fragrances of the peaches and apricots are in the orchard
and there is a peaceful tranquillity hanging over the whole garden.
Everything that is sweet they press into their mouths,
exuberant they run up and down
to find new discoveries
of the most beautiful flowers growing on the ground.
Satish Verma, 9 september 2014
LEAR AGAIN...
It was not worth it.
Building of castles on the dirty roads.
Offering spiritual coalition
of unscented certainties.
Admission of reversing the course of river
does not exonerate.
Mind polluted, face dripping with fantasies
clairvoyance, but confirming nothing.
Quasi-tales mingling with facts
take you to summer of hopes.
You are not here. I feel a cheap anonymity.
Charred body, clayey hands building a tomb.
Frond unfurling from the stump
gives a clue, without plea.
Rising from nothingness
to unending nothingness.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 8 september 2014
Constantly I am astounded by your beauty
Your beauty constantly astounds me
when your loveliness
embraces my life, shadows linger,
and with nobleness
you do become far more than just my princess,
oblivion
falls over the past when we laugh together
and I do yearn for another kiss from you.
Gert Strydom, 8 september 2014
When the early the morning does begin (cavatina)
When the early the morning does begin
and you arise
my lady, the first doves do happy sing,
while the dew lies
on your garden’s most pretty flower cups
and in your eyes
with greatest joy golden the sun does shine;
then forever I want you to be mine.
Satish Verma, 8 september 2014
A PEEP WITHIN
I woke up clutching the dreams
in deluge of tears.
Night had a brackish taste,
the other side of moon was dark.
One by one the stars were dying
ideas were no longer candles in gale.
The final thought of liberation demanded
a tribute to partners in revolt.
I wanted a sunlit corner
in the blighted sky of hopes.
Instead of scorched impulse of a mob
injured truth, walking alone.
Give me a bitter fruit of certainty.
I don’t want to loose myself in fogs.
The truth must meet the lie-
alone, in woods of craft.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 7 september 2014
RESSURECTION
The wind writes a name on the clouds
and sun wipes out the letters.
This game continues daily.
coming into life after every death.
Exhausted I want to believe
and make up my mind to go
for a new birth.
The resentment has accumulated
all the life
against the futility of winning a race.
In the end you reach no where.
A void impossible to fill.
The years monitored, lay waste
something to die.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 6 september 2014
HEMLET BY CHOICE
I was not capable of
contradicting the quietness.
A silent emotion was insulting me.
Forgetting the self-denial
I went for choosing the impossible.
Am I sick of myself?
The agony overwhelms me with mystic relief.
Here and now I feel the human spirit
outsmarting the gifts of revenge
in the eyes of past.
No hope of breeze. It is hot inside,
the spirit burning. False peers
were scoring with debts of darkness.
Tiny ideas crowd the mind
flying straight through the mist of anguish
I elect to be nothing.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 september 2014
THE PENULTIMATE DILEMMA
I must not go beyond sunset
to discover the consciousness of night,
Standing alone on a cliff
I was ready to jump for salvation
atoning for guilt of survival.
My regret was time
and timeless suffering.
Where was the maturity of age?
Mind must go for the beloved ones
for a virginal touch of flawless blaze.
They should have come to join the prayer
not for me, but for the dying sun,
and white valley of fears.
Half my tongue sings for the shade
and half I cry mutely.
Satish Verma
Latest comments:
22 january 2026
violetta
Lubię takie żółcie:)
21 january 2026
Cierpliwie czekam:)
21 january 2026
Będzie brakowało, taki ciepły, z piękną
21 january 2026
Dzisiaj trochę lepiej, chociaż smak zimy pozostał:)
21 january 2026
Kto taki?
21 january 2026
Jaga
(*)
21 january 2026
jeśli tylko
i Niebo do Niego napisało..
21 january 2026
i wyspać też ;)
21 january 2026
obrastają w pleśń i pajęczyny, wysupłać
21 january 2026
(*)
21 january 2026
Przędąc słowem
[*}
20 january 2026
ajw
Nieodżałowana strata. Dla mnie był Mistrzem.
21 january 2026
wiesiek
20 january 2026
Jaga
20 january 2026
wiesiek
19 january 2026
Jaga
18 january 2026
Jaga
17 january 2026
wiesiek
16 january 2026
wiesiek
11 january 2026
Jaga
10 january 2026
wiesiek
4 january 2026
Jaga