Latest items:

poetry

Satish Verma, 4 august 2014

WAVERING

I have peeled off my eyes.
Fear of unbeing creeps in,
genes were escaping.

The thin affair bends
under the burden of vague uncertainty.
A smoke rolls out from choking throat.

A word leaps high from wounded pride.
The author does not know the sting,
blames the ears.

Hails will strike when you open the door.
The past will question the future,
the anguish of infinity.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 3 august 2014

IT OPENS

An oriole gives
an edgy call
in the blaze of morning.

I am not fully awake,
sky is melting on window.
Death has company.

Zen, it did not connect me
with your god.
I am tired of pretentions.

Small was the wasp
in a cobweb of pain.
It floated a sign of conflict.

My thorn did not prick your petals
in vain. Dead leaves
started bleeding.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 2 august 2014

RAGS AND RICHES

Deep blue, almost black,
sadness.
Being,
my ache of existence.

Eyes, no body in focus.
A grey cloud
rowing the moon
amidst red stars.

Bronzed tongue
digs the spirit
out of flesh
behind the shadows.

Alone me
in unlived house of rags,
looking beyond the walls
other side of tomorrow.

Satish Verma

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Gert Strydom, 1 august 2014

Almost timeless

Almost timeless a wave breaks white
where we walk bare foot to the bay.
In the early evening the sky is star speckled
and out of one of the beach houses a joyful noise resounds.
From the distance the light of the lighthouse beacons
when small pebbles hurt our feet
and the city, the beach and sea is a beautiful vista
while a wave breaks washing over our feet
and you yell happily when we get wet from a bigger breaker
and to me you are far past pretty
as if your face does not change with time
and in the distance a car drives down the mountain pass
and I wonder if another night like this will come
and with happiness we are both astonished and surprised.

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Gert Strydom, 1 august 2014

She broke in to me

She broke in to me, into my life
and slowly displaced my friends,
my hobbies, even my fantasies
but in her reality
there was something tender and sweet
and it was if it was meant for us to be
much more than just friends
and we were denizens in our brand new country
where we dared for posterity
but were still totally free
from the bonding that marriage brings
and far too quickly our time together
passed before destiny tore her out of life.

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Satish Verma, 1 august 2014

HALLUCINATION

Watching the ascension
of half-moon from the brown hills
there was a blast in veins.

A raw hope strokes the clouds.
Starting a fire in stars,
making you blind.

Till the eyelids become heavy
with guilt, striving. Waking up
in middle of blue.

I was trying to reach you, when you
were not there,
wounding me in void.

Satish Verma

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Joe Breunig, 31 july 2014

Poem: Spiritual Upgrade

Something great is happening for me,
regardless of the situations I see;
my Lord is working behind the scene
and I have been spiritually weaned.

Walking by faith and not by sight,
insures that I sleep well at night.
Happily I enter daily into His rest,
knowing that I’m divinely blessed.

I’m often filled with peace and joy,
when sacred Scriptures are employed;
with a heart of a believer’s trust,
I overcome the pain of being concussed

in all aspects of my humble existence.
Despite hardship, I’m going the distance.
Elevating faith with a spiritual upgrade,
I pray with confidence- having been swayed

by the absolute Truth of God’s holy Word.
With a poetic voice, my soul is spurred
to write Christian verses unto my Lord,
as His strength, from my spirit is poured.

Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Mark 9:23; Acts 16:31; Jam 2:23;
Rom 15:13; Heb 4:3; John 11:40

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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Gert Strydom, 31 july 2014

Love keeps flowering and sometimes

Love keeps flowering
and sometimes it comes brutally
filled with a type of energy
like revolutions over the sheets
and at other times softly and swishing in
like the tides
where you lay against me with your thighs

or through the gospels of mad hermits
I am overwhelmed by your passion
are swallowed by it.

When the sun hangs as if painted on a canvas
and I only get more and more of you
then you become a small perfumed garden around me
where lilies,
roses and the most beautiful carnations
open their cups.

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Gert Strydom, 31 july 2014

We sit on a balcony

We sit on a balcony
and look at the harbour, the beach
and the small town
where fishermen make their life
out of the sea,
where a few boats bob up and down

and some gulls flap against the strong wind
that makes white horses of the waves
and on you towel you are busy
to get mahogany brown

and when the sun draws level
we walk to a restaurant
that is close to the beach
to enjoy dishes of roasted fish
and some soft drinks.

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Satish Verma, 31 july 2014

BLAST

In a pool of blood
a face swims.
Under the boulders
there is a muffled scream.
Your private god was not there.

The space is littered with death-snacks.
Births a bloom of limbs,
stained shirts,
twisted wheels.
Dam of tears had a breach.

Stampede of legs –
abandoning the footwears.
Faces disappearing in smoke, confusion.
Road is deserted. A white pigeon lies dead
on his back, slicing the air.

Satish Verma

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10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

WAVERING

IT OPENS

RAGS AND RICHES

Almost timeless

She broke in to me

HALLUCINATION

Poem: Spiritual Upgrade

Love keeps flowering and sometimes

We sit on a balcony

BLAST

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