Joe Breunig, 24 october 2013
My soul prospers, regardless of my financial state;
my blessings come from God; upon Him, I willingly wait.
Constantly meditating on The Word, gives me peace,
since I recognize… that the Lord’s promises never cease.
When perceiving what issues are really important,
insures that I remain happy and thoroughly content.
El Shaddai, my God, of more than enough,
has nothing to do with me having more stuff.
Jehovah meets all of my needs abundantly,
especially when I honestly open my eyes and see…
that He continues to love me unconditionally!
And it’s my privilege, to trust Him completely.
My faith is far from a fake and fanciful whim,
seeing that my spirit is in alignment with Him.
With divine access to the “mind of Christ”,
I’m reenergized to appreciate His eternal life.
Although common events of life are not inevitable,
my approach will always remain… emotionally stable.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
John 14:27; 3 John 1:2; Phil 4:13
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
oluwatosin olabode, 24 october 2013
I need someone to talk to
But I have nothing to say
Hear me in my silence
As my heart pants in tears
I'm broken
I need strength, to say the least
Who's here to help me
I could really use a hand
Can't you sense my frustration?
I can really put d blame on everyone else
But no... I just need a hand to hold me
A shoulder to rest on
And a friend, closer than a brother...
I need someone to talk to
Someone without selfish ambition
Whose interest won't fade quickly
at the dullness of my worries...
A person setting aside ego
Just so he can hear me speak...
Can I please talk TO you?
Gert Strydom, 24 october 2013
Glory be to God
for all things bright and beautiful,
the lights everyone;
the rising and the setting sun,
the moon and all the stars
small flowers and huge trees,
the birds in the sky’s canopy
and everything that I can see
and that He made me free
to chose my own company.
Gert Strydom, 24 october 2013
In His great arithmetic
and at a exact time
God spoke and the great wide world awoke
coming in effect to His exact design
at a instant as at chime
the earth as a revolving sphere
placed at the right spot in space
to circle around a bright hot sun
and every thing naturally falling in place
with nothing cosmetic,
all functioning as it was supposed to be
and when all was set and done
He made man, a free willed living being,
designed in His own image
and He was satisfied
that everything was well.
Satish Verma, 24 october 2013
A mad resurgence of fake locks
paralyzes the arched doors of the hidden
walls, where the roses squirm under
the false kisses of a red moon;
they came again to police the blinds.
The mother digs up the charred body of
her son without singing the praise of
drifting star, till the scars become green.
It was the name of ivory grief, you never
know, when the blue milk turns malignant.
A hairy loss of heritage from the golden
heights of slumber. My constant truth
weeps without shame. This landscape
does not belong to ashes of broken history
of man. The delirium of war on laments
has wiped away the holding lights on shores.
Satish Verma
Eva from Barcelona, 24 october 2013
Your hair is air
Is waves
Can I balance
Backwards
Forwards
Left
Rite
Into the sky
Can I sleep
Can I fly
Could I
Under your ocean sight
Deep
turquoise
aquamarine
Can I swim
Can I
please
Can I dream
Your allure is wind
Is light
Is pain
Can I breathe
Can I stay
Can I remain
Geetima Baruah Sarma, 23 october 2013
Do we analyse what we lack?
Do we judge where we stand?
We feel uncomfortable seeing others
Standing on pedestals.
We try to pull them down
Instead of pulling ourselves up.
A sand-clock looks
Half full and half empty.
Why not try to fill up the void?
Perhaps we lack an asset.
The asset of courage,
The courage to move forward,
To judge ourselves,
To assess where we lack.
[Published in 'Fire Bird Poetry' on 23 October 2013]
Gert Strydom, 23 october 2013
(“Though lovers be lost love shall not.”
Dylan Thomas)
It’s not the fault of summer
that the heat at a time does depart
and that it’s only limited to a season
but love that does continually burn high
like the summer sun
does endure against the timid mouldiness
of each season
and when the days of autumns comes,
when the coldness of winter slowly sneaks nearer
then the days turn around again
and in the years of old age
love still is strong
and when you and I are lost to each other
then there is a time and place
where our love finds us again
and brings us back to each other
as if our love has got an endless summer.
Gert Strydom, 23 october 2013
When words pull meaning to pieces
then I want to embrace you
and hold you gently against me
and by actions begin to say things to you,
pick a bunch of red roses from the garden
as a token of my love,
put more time into our being together
and bring colour to the continuous white of life,
try to bring healing to the scars of your youth
and cover everything that does bother
in a big hole in the ground.
Satish Verma, 23 october 2013
Like a dung beetle you were guarding
the tunnel, I will not let the ball roll away,
a grain of ache in my tooth.Why you had
to go, on cathartic release of mutual trust?
A stone in the heart, ice on the wings,
there will be a terrible crash today.
He died by his own hands, failing to reach
the ceiling of solid pain, trekking across
the memories in deep waters. The born depression
had the bride of moon without flesh, beyond the gaze.
A hand holds the sunlight reaching your eyes.
You may swim with fish in mid stream of death.
* On the death of Nicholas Hughes, son of Sylvia Plath in Alaska on 16th March 09.
Satish Verma
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