Joe Breunig, 30 january 2016
Does anyone need slurs,
from slandering neighbors?
Should it bother anyone,
that people seek after God?
Would it be better, to have
vile people influencing those,
with whom you have interaction
on a regular or daily basis?
What benefit can there be,
when individuals choose to
callously break their oaths?
Are they friend-worthy?
Ideas of no absolute truth
are destructive forces, meant
to ruin our relationship
with the one, true God.
Can anyone really be
hurt by unyielding Truth,
when it uncovers the lies
that people are living?
Author notes
Inspired by:
Psa 15
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
Joe Breunig, 30 january 2016
Lord, You’ve lovingly taught me
to call unto You, having promised
to reveal great, wondrous secrets.
Hidden within Thy Word are mysteries
that have yet to be fully revealed;
as I seek, don’t let me misinterpret
the Biblical Truths You’ve presented.
What principles of Yours must I employ,
for finding these unsearchable things?
How do I know my underlying motivations
will be in alignment with Your Word,
if I’m unaware of what they may bring?
This appears to require greater levels
of Faith, without viable explanations.
Therefore, I’m compelled to trust more
and be pushed out of my comfort zone;
can I find unsearchable things, O Lord,
by using Faith to knock on Heaven’s door?
Author Notes
Inspired by:
Jer 33:3
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
Satish Verma, 30 january 2016
Unmasked inside,
we play the games of a torch
the living legend,
great beauty of dirty thoughts.
A twin drama unfolds.
the icon burns and a wealth
of praise drowns the priest.
Now death dance begins.
Neither immersion nor
the float ends the relationship.
The hunger leaps
to death from top floor.
Life is ripped apart.
The swarm of vultures descends,
mating of news begins.
The anodyne is spread on the wounds.
Room to room,
the liquidation begins; of faces, of spots.
A cruel joke is repeated
every day relentlessly,
I wait for the transformation of beginning,
of the ending.
The light to fade and
god to taste like a hot bun.
The dangling doors must close,
for a while to motivate the dreams.
Satish Verma, 29 january 2016
This was an obscene observation,
seeing through one’s mind
a terrible happening.
The naked truth was always dangerous.
I close the eyes of a beloved day.
The first lover hovers over
the trees like an invisible ghost.
By transforming the obsession
into the wholeness of a metaphor,
don’t you externalize the center,
of a theme? Integrity was
never your forte.
The light within was fading,
sheer escape.
I believe in a spring faithful to sun,
where the searching ends.
The body melts into melodies,
and the shooting star of midnight,
leaves a trail of fire.
It opens the sky,
the blade, the freckles.
Satish Verma, 28 january 2016
Non-thinking was a tremendous effort,
I scratched the years one by one.
Between you and me was a river,
it has gone now.
Are you beyond the imagination?
My eyelids bleed,
and there is a painful punctuation.
Give me fireflies,
it is too dark here.
The future tense,
is not relevant now.
Present is very tense.
Books fail to open the lyrics.
I am lonely in the prints.
Life makes a big leap
for the sake of splash.
I place the candles in the wind,
away from the home,
which never was.
Going where the memories,
had seedless interior.
Emptiness sings for space
refuses to be filled in.
Satish Verma, 27 january 2016
Pathways have no boundaries,
thinker was without a thought.
Hostile mind refuses to believe
truth was missing from life.
From depth to depth measurement had failed.
God does not know his creation now.
Foolish flesh now burns in thudding bangs
of dry butter. I want you to touch the
opaque eyes of eternity. In captivity of
sighs and groans. You ought to understand
who was original. There had been free
invitation to become unfaithful.
There were masks, gene shifts and longevity.
This evening a drama will be enacted in sky
by unburnt bras and a black hole. There will
be thrill. It was easy to bury the skulls among
floating names. The wreath will be placed
on the transitional edge of sweetness.
Which never was.
Satish Verma, 26 january 2016
Do not talk of unhealing wounds,
talk of the weapons.
Talk of the hands which used the arms
and talk of the brain which pressed the trigger.
Violence was primitive
but the cruel eyes had a new glint,
At night they ransacked, stamped and burned
the relics.
Is it the retrovirus of a new menace
dreaming the feast of thousands of corpses
choking the drains?
Why are we heading for the slaughter
of earth, pure vengeance
to turn the sun gloomy and black?
This time the river will turn aside and not meet
the ocean.
It will spread out in the parched land of thirst
and die for a cause.
Girija KSK, 25 january 2016
Pain is like a vulture,
which preys on you
with its claws dug deep,
and beaks delve sharp!
************
Like enraged sea,
It sweeps forward,
engulfing you
with no hope of rescue!
***********
Pinned in pain,
You are always alone…..
No arm can caress,
No words bring solace,
No kisses felt!
***********
Pain is the only reality,
When it corrodes,
Snarls and spreads waves of tremor
all through your Self!
**********
Girija KSK, 25 january 2016
She craves to ask,
though untimely and totally irrelevant;
a question –
which only he can answer!
After all these years,
can he identify the name of passion,
which overpowered him,
When he intervened her lonely dreams
and reigned them for a while?
Thinking back, the word love is just misleading,
Though he was an exponent of love then
Love, he proclaimed, was the thirst of the soul
and the hunger of the heart!
Without which he would perish forever!
She was swept in the tide,
Only to see his love winging away
into the safe orbit of his family
and to the seclusion of conventions.
If without a word of adieu,
he could leave her desolate and aghast
in the midway;
why did he attempt to fish her mind
and dropped it in hot sand,
nonchalant whether it plunged to death or life? - See more at:
Girija KSK, 25 january 2016
The secret of love is love itself…….
as it exudes a fragrance,
however hidden it may be……..!
It gives out as a flicker of light behind the eyes;
a smile suppressed behind the lips;
a caress on your throbbing wound;
a caring word, soothing your woes,
a loving grasp of your finger tight…….
And you cannot miss it, if it is there!
I have a strange encounter with love;
its memory still mesmerizes me,
though long years have passed……
After a critical operation
and five days in ventilator,
the moment when my husband recognized me
with swollen eyes, bandaged head
and unsteady words….
I then knew what love is…….
It’s a spring in the heart,
which sometimes wells up in the eyes….
and a feeling beyond words………….!
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