Joe Breunig, 23 may 2013
One sure way to escape sin’s perdition
is to be not trapped by human tradition
that hinders the outpour of God’s spirit,
when searching for one’s heavenly lift.
For sheer knowledge of religious minds
can impede the heart flow of the Divine.
For the truest Love require action of us,
besides Faith’s development in Whom we trust.
A genuine journey of spiritual relationship
comes from Christ’s sacrifice and friendship,
when we completely accept Him for Who He is.
Everyone is surely blessed, when a child of His.
With the Lord’s Spirit, there is liberty!
Yet proper choices allow us to be truly free -
without the fears of life being jeopardized;
we just need to throw off… religious exercise.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
2 Cor 3:7-18; Eph 1:3; Psa 24:1-5
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
Gert Strydom, 23 may 2013
I marvel at your love for God and truth,
your eyes that glow
with a kind of light that is pure and rare,
as if you know
things divine that are hidden to most men;
you do follow
the convictions of your heart with great care
with selfless love you lay reality bare.
Gert Strydom, 23 may 2013
A sheer loveliness was hers from her birth,
a kind of grace
that has been quite unknown for many years
was on her face,
some men became silent as she did pass,
some hearts did race
at her very sight, while she smiled bright,
was somewhat like a new pure kind of light.
The few words that she did choose had beauty
and her goodbyes
had promises of severe happiness;
pure as the skies,
her radiant smile was mine, I was lost in
her green-brown eyes;
she had changed all of my wanton ways,
with her laughing lingering loving days.
Satish Verma, 23 may 2013
Intended to violate
the omnipresent,
stillness unzips the inviolate
truth.
You walk through a legend:
To test the chastity
you need to dip your hand
in a very hot oil.
A sleepless summer night
descends on the hill
violins in dark
lie mutilated.
Hidden tracks will not tell
from where came the pattern
of enemies entering
the bloodied moon.
Satish Verma
Steven Croat, 22 may 2013
Everything what we have ever created
gains meaning by us.
A minute,
a touch
no much,
a word
can be the world...
//
Gert Strydom, 22 may 2013
Chirping it landed in the rain, pecked,
left little prints
in the mud as it trampled here and there,
at bushy mints
it searched, meandered up and down
leaving small hints
that a tiny bird was coming quite near,
its joyful twittering song I did hear.
Gert Strydom, 22 may 2013
(after Robert Frost)
In passing the nearby snow filled great woods
and icy lake,
the sheer loveliness caught the rider’s eye;
a halting break
that lingers too long could bring freezing death,
a spell in each flake
brought tiredness, but the horse moved on,
breaking that old spell, its magic was gone.
[Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.]
Insatiable Sohail, 22 may 2013
I want someone to understand what I really feel inside
I want to fall in love with an innocent mind
Who’ll unravel the mystery of my own universe.
And make my life more meaningful, simple and peaceful.
She'll be a brook in my heart that babbles incessantly.
We'll be the inseparable inhabitants of the same sphere.
I’ll bask myself in her shining smile.
That will always play in her innocent smiling face.
Her searching glance will find out my agonized looks
And she’ll be a light in my thoughts.
Her every malleable touch will take off
My formal beliefs full of superstition
And make my mind receptive
That cordially accepts every little positive change.
Satish Verma, 22 may 2013
Only the love-birds will know
it was time of inquisition.
There was a lot of prodding in
the neighbourhood.
A voice without sound
was resenting with guilt-virginity
and the bell tolls
for a zero hour.
The entrusted trust was
still moving off the transparency.
Was it not a weird night?
The newly hatched babies,
jutting out their necks
from their clay homes were
to know the roots of verbs.
Satish Verma
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