patty turner, 29 june 2017
darkness,
its all i see.
my path is clouded,
its closing in.
I'm lost.
the light is gone,
the panic is setting in.
i dont know where to go.
you said it was grief,
YOU LAIR!
I'm suffering,
I'm so tried.
I'm losing my mind,
is this my fate?
to be stuck in darkness,
and never see the light again?
Satish Verma, 29 june 2017
Removing the husk
I want you to find the grain;
become yourself.
The space between thoughts
must increase.
I am trying to widen –
the scope of death. Something
was alive in shadows.
The fiction was rising.
Dust and clouds will blast
together. I want to meet
the snowcapped peaks of sadness-
which brings the human-
face of flesh eaters. No bones
were left to fight for.
Satish Verma, 28 june 2017
I intuited.
Something had crept into
my room in dark,
and slept on my bed
devastating me.
It was a moonbeam.
There was no animal on the loose.
Activism had empowered the gender base.
One long nightmare started
between innovation and miracle.
Unwritten, I was loth
to understand you.
The abstract sky was
ravishing the moon. I become
visibly upset. Ask you to shut
the door and start reading me.
I had become an epic
of water.
Satish Verma, 27 june 2017
I take you in my arms. O moon.
Crazed. You have become a muse
of a dervish. I hear the noises. Inside.
Beyond perception. I could have swapped
with you. My rage. My skin. My solitary inside.
Becoming a dagger into your heart jumping.
Never falling you said. The evergreens. I
have again failed.The crops. Standing, on the river.
Not crossing the bridge. To meet the spring.
In meadows. May be. Unsaying. Will
it help to know? The words standing behind
the lips? Will you catch the words?
Floating in air, when I am gone with
the clouds. You will keep on repeating I
was here, in your eyes, in your tears.
Moving away in opposite direction will
you look back when dawn arrives?
I will hold you and kiss on mouth.
Satish Verma, 26 june 2017
The sun beats mercilessly.
A coastline invites the violence
of the great lake.
A sinking feeling of a boat. The battle
of tides and limbs. You can see
the colors, the dragons
flying. The blasted sky
and blackened clouds. A shriek
sets the lake on fire, as the dusk sets in.
A tribal instinct to burn
the fences, set the horizons
free for a new comet, landing from
unknown space. You want to touch
the lips of a mute, blotted moon.
Fireflies start dotting the night.
You move inward; find a dark
niche to graze the wounds. The hurt
brings the words. You pick up an
axe and start chopping
the dead wood.
Satish Verma, 24 june 2017
This music was insane.
Do not pluck the wounded apples
of conjugal extraction.
The volatility was increasing.
Shades of blue were
sharpening. The intrusive moon
will decide the fate of
fossilized fracture. The death
came by the back door.
The rough edges are to
be smothered, after a back
encounter. The saint was ready.
The anxiety overwhelms. You
try to find a small window
to bring in the song bird.
Satish Verma, 23 june 2017
You could feel it.
The fear in that pristine howl
writhing in throat. Something was
wrong with the sunflowers. A genital
cutting had brought the snowdusting
on mutilated emotions.
A premonition warns. We are shining
on wrong side, under dictates of religion.
The cult will take care of mouth. You
will celebrate the breaking up of man.
The bone between the lips.
I am collecting the dirty threads of
loyalty to stitch the amnesia. They were ready to
applause the demise of moon. No more
sheen on the trees, lake and hills.
I am hauling up the skeletion of the republic.
Joe Breunig, 22 june 2017
Isn’t it time, that we stop crying,
for deliverance from circumstance’s
punishment, when we really should
be begging to be freed from our sin?
His Word teaches us that escaping
the results of ‘Sowing and Reaping’
is not feasible; our given ability
to reason, isn’t diminished when…
we have the Hope of Christ within.
Instead, we ought to be willing
to end production of needless pain
towards our God; anxiety and fears
prevents us from pushing forward in
victory, although we’re working and
striving towards… a worthwhile gain.
Author notes
Inspired by:
Heb 12:1; 1 Cor 9:24 and
We cry too often to be delivered from the
punishment, instead of the sin that lies
behind it. We are anxious to escape from
the things that cause us pain rather than
from the things that cause God pain.
-G. Campbell Morgan
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.
Joe Breunig, 22 june 2017
I’d rather live for Christ
and not burn in Hell; yet, I
won’t apologize for sharing
a Faith of… an eternal Life.
Promoting The Kingdom of God
is an interesting challenge;
His wisdom transcends that of
mortal men, while using flawed
souls like me. I have chosen
to evangelize with His sacred
tenets of Truth; I praise Him,
knowing that I serve a risen
Savior, Lord and King of Kings;
through my poetry, I will sing
of His greatness, mercy, Love
and enduring peace… He brings.
Author notes
Inspired by:
1 Cor 1:25; Psa 136:3; Rev 19:16;
Phil 4:7-9
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.
Satish Verma, 22 june 2017
After the civil war in temples
a wodden god
with broken nose, was walking
with a stick.
Half-way to home
he wanted to turn back
and meet his shadow
in the lake.
A mountain goat climbs
down the rocks to become
a martyr. Leaps into a dark
stream clinging to the veil.
A blue pine takes a bath
in the summer rain. A
midnight moon will call the spirits
to dance for gamblers.
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