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poetry

Bob Gotti, 5 march 2014

His True Church

I know many religious people, and one Church with no steeple,
A church that’s built with no walls, built on only believing souls,
Built upon an Eternal Foundation, that being our very Salvation,
Built upon The One Cornerstone, and that is Jesus Christ alone.

Many, who worship in a building, to Truth alone, are unyielding,
Building a church on tradition, God’s Truth, with man’s addition,
Added to the work finished by, Jesus Christ who reigns on high,
Ignoring His words “it is finished”, Grace by many is diminished.

Men making a way to Heaven, not by grace but religious leaven,
Building church in a human way, as they lead many souls astray,
As many souls weekly perch, in the pews of a manmade church,
Relying on their religious activity, to help them work into eternity.

“I will build my Church” He said, that was Christ, who is the Head,
Head of His True Church on earth, filled with souls, by New Birth,
All members being Born Again, into His Church, not one of men,
You’ll find, you no longer search, as a member of God’s Church.

Jesus is the Way, Truth and Life, as Head of the Church of Christ,
And each of us is a living stone, built through faith in Christ alone,
His Church He proceeds to build, to complete as His Father willed,
Leading the only True Church friend, as others shall see in the end.

(Copyright ©04/2011 Bob Gotti)

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Bob Gotti, 5 march 2014

My Life Story

Everybody has a life story; mine, was touched by God’s Glory,
As God changed my entire life, through The Lord, Jesus Christ,
With new purpose and direction, not by mine, but His selection,
As God, Himself, selected me, to become a part of His Family.

Sealing me with the Spirit of God, a new direction, I would trod,
Saving me from darkened strife, God sent His light into my life,
Light that guides me to this day, guiding me on the narrow way,
A new path far from the one, I walked before I knew God’s Son.

Change came the moment when, I in Christ, became born again,
Born of God from Heaven above, filled with new hope and love,
Hope that looks past the grave, with the power He used to save,
My wretched soul from all sin, and now God’s power lives within.

The Lord now dwells in my heart, and His Spirit will never depart,
And so in this Truth I now abide, as my Savior walks by my side,
With me even in dark times friend; leading me around each bend.
In a world where wrong is right, Jesus Christ, is my Guiding Light.

Saved out of a darkened world, The Truths of God, I now herald,
Saved from a world where sin rife, the Lord God touched my life,
Leading me now in Righteousness, not mine, but of Christ Jesus,
A Righteousness that granted me, life with Christ Jesus Eternally.

(Copyright ©04/2011 Bob Gotti)

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Greg, 4 march 2014

Through the Grind

Six times pain
Unrelenting as a gray shadow
Of disappointment
Unfulfilled promises
And dreams that reached for the stars
Untold as the rainbow…road?
That’s the best I can say
Travelling along colors
To the apex point

Whisping through the breeze of space
The calm sultry stillness
That slashes through nothingness itself
To render beauty impotent;
Beauty is impotence itself
The direct apprehension
That brings substance to form
That potentiates impotence
The appropriation and observance
Holy holy observance
That calls forth, that which is hidden
In Appearance

Beauty transcends maya
By intimating substance
Pure truth in the light of the shadow
The light that has no shadow
Fuck the light
The truth is in the shadows
For there is no light there
To cast the shadows
To illuminate and ruminate
To bring to their knees
The children of the sun
Who wail out into the abyss
Of beautiful blue
“God where did you go
Where have you gone
I want you
In your infinity and concrete
The substantialism of love
Permeating every star
And holding up every planet
In the brilliant night
That I gaze into
Afar, and reaching
The expanses of my mind…nay my soul”

I would tell more
But the castrating concrete calls
And I answer with a hollow whisper
“I am coming my master”

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Greg, 4 march 2014

A Love Letter

Strange shadows follow me
Into day
The light that was relinquished
Comes with pain
To wrestle away
The waking moments
And castigated dreams
That let me sleep
That let me sleep

Hey baby
You wanna write some lines??
She says no
And bites her morning bread
Leaving the thread half spun
That I must now complete
On my own
But yet weave her in
…only getting a copy
My made up copy
But I want her
So I ask again
Hey baby
You wanna write some lines??
My hands her heart
: She’s looking soul constipated
Pushing and pushing
But nothing comes out
But dry air
And now it comes:
Hoping you’d hear my heart
Trying to correct the order
But…you can’t melt the crystal!

“I just wanna chill”
She says as she backs out of the
Poetic orgy
But now she returns, for a taste
“I want to be in your arms,
And would love some dick”
“To be one with you
And carry your baby
Wander my life with you
Take care of your chubby belly,
Bearded and skinny face”

Feed you with love
To flow back and forth
As the dams break
The cradle will fall

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Gert Strydom, 4 march 2014

Maybe the biggest sacrifice

Maybe the biggest sacrifice
that a human can give
to live selflessly
and to make sacrifices for others

and maybe this kind of love
is the nearest
to the love that comes from God.

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Satish Verma, 4 march 2014

A SPIRIT’S TALE

They brought back saddle
without the warrior.
Wrinkled eyes of a broken mother
frozen with tears, pick up the pieces of carpet
woven with blood.

Lotuses are disappearing
from the serene lake; migrated to seeds.
There are no visitors.

Who was losing the battle?
Have not you heard about militancy
and mutilated god? We gave him
our sons and daughters, still he was hungry.

The mankind celebrates the decline,
mourning hills,
dances with the bones of ancestors.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 3 march 2014

ANNUAL RITUAL

That awkward moment
when you stammer,
truth spurts out:
how not to offer a straight reply.

Your green eyes
tell me the pain
of last century.
Of armistice, of amputated legs
and then you don’t know what to do with your existence.

Darkened trees spit the starlight.
I will wait for the maddening crowd
to take the dip in the holy lake,
to wash out their sins
under the full moon.

Satish Verma

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Gert Strydom, 3 march 2014

You did become human

You did become human in a primitive time,
walked through dusty roads full of humanity and hope,
told rejected people about forgiveness,
made miracles against the laws of nature a reality,
did touch broken humans with soft fingers,
did heal people from their pain,
did read their grief in their eyes,
did tell everyone how love really works
and when the Spirit of God did descended upon You
a pure kind of bright holy light did radiate from You

and here where I come full of sin to You
I am like a child
in my own years of old age
and You do continually find me daily.

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Greg, 2 march 2014

Original Ecstasy: The Rotting

Six times over
The wheels a turnin’
Pushin mud into the ground
Turning sand and stone to earth-fire
Hearth is warm
And love ascending
Pilgrimage of holy fire-wall
Down into the trenches of ecstasy
The crevices of soul
Growing moss-alive
Tortured tortured tortured

And it jumps back
Out of the terrain
But life has become so full
There is no where to be lonely
Butterfly angels swoop down
To place buttercups in the flower’s soul
In the amalgamation of natures sexuality
The vertex point that drives forward
Evolution and birth and being
And DESTRUCTION

Again jump back
And in Fear and Trembling
Utter a prayer:
Oh Holy Chaos
I come to You in mourning
For ever hold my peace
For ever keep me free
With the concept of ideation
To lose my inhibition
To rejoice in sorrow ecstasy
Lonely and afraid
The hollow mounds around us
Give shadows to the wall dust
Make mountains out of mole-hills
And the other way around
As long as there is structure
The destruction is a-comin’
Forgive me please
I have sinned
For I am-this day

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Satish Verma, 2 march 2014

NO COMPLAINT

A brown cloud descends
on charcoal sketch.
Moonstruck, a blast begins.

Marigold, beware:
sun is going to hide
behind the stings.

The fang penetrates deep,
in the breast
of sleeping pride.

A golden god
melts in the arms
of mercy.

The lips suck the blue poison
of the hymns.
The saint was a killer.

I am a ravaged path
who wants nothing
from the feet!

Satish Verma

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10 - 30 - 100

Latest items:

poetry

His True Church

My Life Story

Through the Grind

A Love Letter

Maybe the biggest sacrifice

A SPIRIT’S TALE

ANNUAL RITUAL

You did become human

Original Ecstasy: The Rotting

NO COMPLAINT

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