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poetry

Aurora, 26 may 2014

35565888

Common sounds,
the commoner common of sound.
Does sound know itself?
Or shall I readdress my silence,

For the words in my head
are filled with passion
that is easily mistaken for violence.

Organising the situation,
to get out of the jail that surrounds
like jonah in the whale
I shall never be found

For the only comfort
is the redemption that has already past
So when the hour has struck at the moons quarter phase, waxing,
that is when you must fast

Like speed in time,
can I tell you a more indepth rhyme?

Riddled with secrets
that only you can read
inside you is the only tree left
the most abundent god seed

Oh let them squawk with beaks that break
for they cannot kill you for meat
and still eat Cow steak.

Bless your beauty
radiant as the one
sun moon let them all swoon
over linguistic fallacies
in this false reality

For it was you that was the shepherd that lived with the sheep
so let them all weep!
Yes let them cry
at the hopless romantic idealism
that one day they might 'die'.

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Aurora, 26 may 2014

8999201

This shall be proficiency at its highest,
So may I introduce myself to your highness
and lend my arm for you to hold
as I take you on your journey
to the moutain of gold

Alas sweet tears may fall
like cold floors they sting
yet relieve my ever envy
that I could not comprehend
your beauty that is neverending

Descending, descending
we embark on a trail so deep
may I feel your succelent lips against mine
To have your soul to finally keep?

Yes I have been waiting
and watching your illumionisty in awe
Why these humans cannot see what I see
Will be a fact about the race that will always allure

Oh treasures cannot be buried
as long as your face surrives
for the passion of the earth shows clearly
in the tears that pierce through your window eyes

Let none see through
that beautiful blue
but reflect all of it back -
reveal nothing that is within you

for you are the power and the glory
and not just another faded story
your name shall stay in grace
without a rememberance of a face

And what was once a fairytale
shall now become real
that is of course if I find you first
before some pirate is to steal

My princess of the nile
My queen of the stars
my wondering angel
That is associated with automatic cars

Oh how little they know!
What walks amongst their shores
A daughter of high esteem
that lives like the common whores

Yet love does not last
in a place of no duality
so let me take you where you belong
and you'll be forever happy in my reality

Come back to me

number of comments: 0 | rating: 2 | detail

Gert Strydom, 26 may 2014

My Lord, You do know all of the masks

My Lord, You do know all of the masks that I wear for the world
and also all of the things that are hidden deep in my heart.
My deepest secrets are known to You
and even the things that I do not want to admit to myself.

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Gert Strydom, 26 may 2014

Outside a church

While we walk around the church,
I tread on the lawn at the painted flint-glass windows
and see her calves with three doves as her company,
there is some gravel, in the distance a train whistles.

With a reaching hand Jesus hangs on a cross,
He is vituperated where blood flows down in a puddle.
She takes my hand while we walk all over the garden
and fear is seen, like it was at the time.

Still she holds onto my hand while bees turn around us,
branches swing in the wind and the sky is dull blue,
some drops of dew glistens and the lawn is cleanly cut
and her eyes shine while she holds onto my hand.

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Gert Strydom, 26 may 2014

On a Sunday

(after Jules Laforgue)

The rain is sifting down for days now,
how depressing, the rain is, lover.

On the sea there’s no ship to be seen,
only the grey sky and sea not even a bird.

At dusk no couples are passing,
only a car or two sprays water.

A girl with a big black dog passes
and they look cold and wet.

What a sorry sight while she sneezes
and both are shivering.

What is it with her? She is running
right into the ocean!

She drags her dog along,
flinging herself into the sea.

There’s no one to rescue her
or the drowning dog.

The lights all over the suburb
is flickering on in this cosy town.

How depressing, the rain is, lover.
The rain is sifting down for days now.

[Reference: Sundays by Jules Laforgue.]

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Satish Verma, 25 may 2014

THE OTHER SMILE

Death will not measure
the height,
from which we fall.
Not being,
the psyche of primeval fear
finds its conscience –

subverts the softness
of moon-eyed life
with wealth of green blood
in brown bread.

And the white candle
burns at night
to send aurora borealis
in blue irises.

Satish Verma

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Satish Verma, 24 may 2014

SHIFTING PAIN

A silent wrath sits in a pool
of blood, will start a battle
over the footprints of sponges
who soaked the history.
The flow of endurance, lava on
the tongue triggers discontent
for a riot of spawned hunger.
One transparent self under the rocks
moans, falls to explosion, sways in
dim smoke. For the authenticity of future
we are killing the serpent
who drinks milk
from your hands
and protects your treasure.
The tranquility is little bloated
like grape seed extract.

Satish Verma

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Stephen J. Vattimo, 23 may 2014

Can You Come Out And Play?

Knock...Knock..Knock,

Can you come out and Play?

Steal the key from the warden.
Unlock the shackle that keep you trapped inside.

It's a beautiful day
Come out and play?

Don't hanging silently on the wall with the other wall flowers.
It's time to break free and express your self.

Don't be afraid to sing a different tune.
We are not all created to be the same at this elevation.

So you don't have to play it safe .
You can buck against the hypnotic beat that is echoing through the radio and the television stations .

Can you come out and play?

Don't be afraid to go against the flow of yesterday.
To day is a gift from God to make a new vibration.
It's time to go out and play.

Life is like playing a musical instrument in a hall.
The walls are people.
the hall is time.

Be wise in the song you play,
For your words and actions will echoing off the people and be carried down through the halls of time.

Knock...Knock..Knock,
Can you come out and Play?

Will you make A difference today?

Written by Stephen J. Vattimo
Feb 18 2013

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Stephen J. Vattimo, 23 may 2014

Freed Soul

Tortured soul
Struggling to survive another day of wearing the chains of voluntary slavery,to earn my keep.

Struggling to labor with my fellow slaves,
some try to cut me like glass,
while other try to break my bone like rocks.

Tortured soul
Long to break free from these chains that hold me to the ground.
Longing to spread wrings of creativity,to earn my keep.
Souring on the winds of Art,poetry,comedy.

Rising from the dust of a tortured soul to the rebirth of a fulfilled soul.
Using the God given gifts of creativity to bring color into A gloomy world.

That fellow slave to sin,may open their hearts of glass or stone to God,that through His Holy spirit their hearts will become like clay.
So God can mold them into the beautiful image of his Son.

Written by Stephen J .Vattimo
Sept 19 2013

number of comments: 0 | rating: 1 | detail

Gert Strydom, 23 may 2014

Sometimes I want to know the reasons why from You

Sometimes I want to know the reasons why from You
when it feels as if You are forgetting me in Your ultimate plan
and there is no deliverance or light that I do see,
when it feels as if everything is resting on a big perchance

and maybe people did feel like this from the time of Adam
while time was running away from them
and when I do fall I ask You for new hope,
that You do continue to walk ahead on the road of life

and my Lord, when it goes difficult on some days
show me where You are still standing next to me.

number of comments: 0 | rating: 0 | detail

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Latest items:

poetry

35565888

8999201

My Lord, You do know all of the masks

Outside a church

On a Sunday

THE OTHER SMILE

SHIFTING PAIN

Can You Come Out And Play?

Freed Soul

Sometimes I want to know the reasons why from You

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