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poetry

Satish Verma, 16 august 2014

FIXED FLUX

Looking beyond the window
I always wanted to shut my eyes.
No sky could hold my head.
I did’t want to see the innocent smiles
vanishing from the moulded faith.

The smell of burning leaves waftes through
the catacomb of dead thoughts.
The time does not spare any overflow of poetry.
Life extracts its price of tomorrow.

Nothing will change. People will laugh,
weep and mourn. A candle for those
who jumped from minaret of silence. A
bonquet for them who died on waves.

I will hide the kernel under the mud
by stealth One day amongst the
spikes a pink spirit will rise. A double landmark
for death and dust.

Satish Verma

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Gert Strydom, 15 august 2014

In the tempests of the world (stave stanza sestets)

In the tempests of the world bring tranquillity,
in all be Thou the only guide to me,
lead us the right way, when darkness comes,
to our great eternal and happy homes
guard, keep, love, cherish and do protect us
while we on the way, learn in You to trust.

While we stumble and on the wrong way go
protect us from every kind of foe,
lead us while we learn to keep You in sight,
to be like You, who are our eternal light,
help us to Your kind of loving to adjust,
while we on the way, learn in You to trust.

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Gert Strydom, 15 august 2014

I wish that I could clearly recall the day (Italian sonnet)

I wish that I could clearly recall the day
the exact moment, the instant that we did meet
but it runs away like something with ever moving feet
as if the emotions between us are ever at play

and now I cannot really clearly say
what had happened but that moment was sweet,
each other we did pleasantly greet
and although that time had slipped away

to both of us later it meant so much
and at the times when we are apart
nothing can our true love remove
and its impact lingers in each touch
are in each glance like a silent kind of art
which does its sweet presence prove.

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Satish Verma, 15 august 2014

THE INDOMITABLE

Till last moment, life can produce a meaning.
Of sky, stars and space between darkness and light.
I am not going to weigh the burden
and insult the ‘how’ of impossible,
so much is still to finish.
I am not going to commit suicide.

Are there any takers of grass, of moon
and scented winds?
the borderline is very vague between
ecstasy and depression.

A bit of silence, a patch of sunlight
I drink my cup from the tranquil hands.
I am water, I am fire
The fear is not going to dissipate me.

Satish Verma

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Joe Breunig, 14 august 2014

Poem: Intoxicated

O my gracious Lord,
I come into Your Presence,
wanting to touch Your Essence
and to become intoxicated
via Your Holy Spirit.

Let Your joy overflow
over this broken vessel,
as souls quietly wrestle
with faith’s development
in fear and trembling.

Permit me, patient Lord,
to let troubles fade away
temporarily on this day,
as I commune with You
and meditate Your Holy Writ.

O Lord, stir my heart;
pierce its inner hardness
with inviolable gladness,
so Your contentment imbues
my spirit’s strengthening.

Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Eph 5:17-19; 2 Cor 4:7; Job 11:13-18;
Psa 45:1, 73:23-26; 1 Cor 14:3

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

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

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Joe Breunig, 14 august 2014

Poem: Analysis of the Game of Risk?

Are there real lessons to be learned,
from playing the board Game of Risk?
Is it just a fun, leisurely past time
with gameplay that can be fairly brisk?

Its premise promotes outright conflict,
albeit on a miniature scale and timetable.
With some posturing and open discussions,
attacks proceed without mortality tables.

Between uneasy alliances (based on lies)
and few verbal, unenforceable treaties,
what attitudes are honed while players
develop their world-domination strategies?

Using the armies of lifeless soldiers
to sate personal needs of global conquest,
wannabe dictators wave ideas of war-policy
with banners hiding a pseudo blood-lust.

From war campaigns with rules of engagement
that follow a predetermined, orderly sequence,
are societies secretly pushing warmongering
with unknown and unforeseen consequences?

Covert operations are not possible or deployed,
as military movements are clearly seen by all;
when acquiring territories around the World,
can a bad cause spread before an uncertain fall?

Does odds calculation for incremental success
as combatants tumble the dice of aggression,
dissuade future, role-playing battlers to not
kill others in favor of peaceful solutions?

Are we actually teaching our future generations
that war will be a permanent, acceptable ideal?
Can the human condition continue moving forward…
while the concept of peace may be sadly repealed?

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Gert Strydom, 14 august 2014

You had awaken a blazing fire in me (English sonnet)

You had awaken a blazing fire in me
as you had shouted my name at the gate
while you waved extremely merrily
and the night was dark and it was quite late

with the songs of birds, the song of the wind,
the songs of insects while the moon shone bright
and your image, starlit eyes is in my mind,
with the fire of stars as a light in that night

and we walked and talked until tears
filled your eyes with a great happiness,
while the night, the wind and the years
cried out against the time of loneliness

with our joy happy as a bubbling stream,
while the bliss of a kiss was like a dream.

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Gert Strydom, 14 august 2014

At heart (Sicilian septet)

Far too many times it had been broken
and at times I had given it away.
Now I have quite suddenly been woken
at the very breaking of the new day
as it beats with a different kind of stroke
a thing that is here to constantly stay
while the coming of death is unspoken.

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Gert Strydom, 14 august 2014

The world displays God’s great glory (septilla / Spanish septet)

The world displays God’s great glory
even when industries downwards trod
nature with a steel crunching rod,
destruction is noted history,
still lilies and violets do bloom
with the earth at the brink of doom,
tranquil nature just a memory.

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Satish Verma, 14 august 2014

THE SOCRATIC EXISTENCE

The evening wind tapped me on the shoulder
gently and said:
“Clouds will talk to you now”
I turned around, looked up at the sky
and drops filled my eyes.

Daily I was drinking hemlock
to understand my ignorance of virtue.
He is gone, but I want to feel the ascending
paralysis, a tincture that is called poison.

For the sake of others, below the faith
lies the pain concealed.
My cup is full. It spills on the soul
and I grieve for the defiled truth.

Satish Verma

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10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

FIXED FLUX

In the tempests of the world (stave stanza sestets)

I wish that I could clearly recall the day (Italian sonnet)

THE INDOMITABLE

Poem: Intoxicated

Poem: Analysis of the Game of Risk?

You had awaken a blazing fire in me (English sonnet)

At heart (Sicilian septet)

The world displays God’s great glory (septilla / Spanish septet)

THE SOCRATIC EXISTENCE

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