Joe Breunig, 16 january 2014
Though I strive for real Word quality,
some people still get upset with me,
regarding spiritual constructs I write,
having been offended by Truths I see.
Within the depths of my Christian poetry,
I share faith’s expression and creativity,
seeking a balance of confession and worship,
in understanding how my dear Lord views me.
Since Creation, a complete scope of Humanity,
has been already defined with God’s artistry-
for He breathed life into us, His workmanship,
an earthly, sacred array of divine diversity.
Although a lesser form of His incorporeal epitome,
we are still made after the image of the Trinity;
therefore, live joyously and soulfully, knowing…
that we’re the living embodiment of God’s poetry!
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Eph 2:10
The greek word “poeima” can be defined as: that
which has been made a work of the works of God
as creator, i.e., His workmanship.
In addition, we derive the word “poem”.
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Satish Verma, 16 january 2014
Preparing jaggery from palm juice
the resistance is splashed on face
for the vision of peace. A pre-emptive
trapeze breaks the monotomy of transsexuals.
Intimes of peril the ancient conflict
becomes a broker to fire the night. A ball
of smoke betrays a human failure in
nostalgic days. The intense brown eyes
water with stark fear the incoming
rockets. This war will not end. A conduit
of fierce emotions always identifies the man
with personal faith. No overt blood or sweat
figures it out. Torrents of bullets have
no inclination to halt the wolves. A city
cries. The siren screams again!
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 16 january 2014
On a sunny day
a drop hanged on a cloud
when a thunderbolt unexpectedly lashed down
and for a moment it hesitated to fall
while it longed for the glistening glitter of a rainbow,
wavering wanted to wait for more moments
but nature went its way
as destiny does demand
when on fruitful earth it splattered
and suddenly its gloss was gone
but as a part of a beautiful flower
it did rise again
in the lifecycle of the creation
where things do come, go and are reborn.
Gert Strydom, 15 january 2014
At birth we enter this world
from the great unknown
and make life our very own
as human beings with senses
of touch, hearing and seeing
and from being born we are on a sojourn
as travellers that feel and experience
the way that life is
and we do reach to each other in bliss
and true happiness
while we do work, play and laugh and cry
until the very day that we die.
Satish Verma, 15 january 2014
Preparing jaggery from palm juice
the resistance is splashed on face
for the vision of peace. A pre-emptive
trapeze breaks the monotomy of transsexuals.
Intimes of peril the ancient conflict
becomes a broker to fire the night. A ball
of smoke betrays a human failure in
nostalgic days. The intense brown eyes
water with stark fear the incoming
rockets. This war will not end. A conduit
of fierce emotions always identifies the man
with personal faith. No overt blood or sweat
figures it out. Torrents of bullets have
no inclination to halt the wolves. A city
cries. The siren screams again!
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 14 january 2014
Darling, when you were with me
we walked through the hillocks,
searched for small gazelle
as if we would find them
while continually we were happy
and at times it felt
as if we could catch the golden sun.
Satish Verma, 14 january 2014
Lovers of death were on prowl:
nothing was finished.Smart words
were bouncing back. Quotes by the fire
had stripped down the carnage. More
bombs in courtyard and hope was confronting
death. Few branded names were causing
rift in the ranks and I must forget
about the waterboarding too.
After the outrage you would not trust
them to govern themselves. The towns were
still sleeping accustomed to the knocks
on the doors. The water birds were not
coming this winter. Smoke and fire. Sound
and fury with flashbacks of flood of red streams.
I was tumbling down beyond challenge.
With message of menace they will do no wrong!
SATISH VERMA
Naeem, 13 january 2014
The beauty in the essence of wrath
that rises from the deepest core;
engulfs the blackest of all paths;
tears through fear and fills with lore.
Then, mind is set to be lost in freedom.
Forever it seems for there exist no doom;
a place where light expresses no verse.
A gift we grasp yet no more than a curse!
-Nr.
Satish Verma, 13 january 2014
A terror of alikeness looms
like stricken birds, incenerated in split seconds.
You smell the burning flesh in an air blitz.
Nearing endgame a conceptual hate
is jettisioned in sky. You start collecting
the fragments of life.
Words start jumping. You refuse to accept
more than the want. And yet a finite
listening was absent. And the secret kennel
in the dead child fails to sprout. The toys
and dreams lie unattended on birthday
of the nation. A monogamous judge ascends
to heaven.
Any durable peace on the way? Unruffled
you are still in freezing water. The boat
is half-submerged and tears are burning
the deck. No wrinkles. The fish nod
their fins for the final plunge.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 12 january 2014
A fragile pistillum sways to conceal
the sperms in pestle. Unilaterally fired salvos
were increasing. After the dig, bodies in the
debris were popping up daily. There
was no truce for brothers in arms. Struggling
to hold on the humanism, anger was rising
from the white paper.
A sense of lost is weaponized. There is
a mix of solemnity and hurt. Pacemaker was becoming
a slave, will not respect cadence. Obscurity
must take refuge. The golden lined clouds
were enduring the sun.A howitzer fires at moon.
It was time to find the anchor, shoving aside
the mortgage of life.
Satish Verma
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