Satish Verma, 17 july 2015
Whole world hides
in your liquid eyes,
I need to return to my consciousness,
to change my verse.
The dry air has wiped out the beautiful words
sitting on the edge, of a meaning
I write a new song.
Discovering your forgotten self,
was a pain,
I always avoided.
Years touched me softly,
on the temples in vain.
Dumb I was with grief, threading a pile of memories,
to know my other self.
Somewhere a god smiles on me.
God of my mud & water,
wide open like a father,
who never died.
The moon slaughters my clouds.
I was always angry,
with my odd appearance.
Joe Breunig, 16 july 2015
Within the genuine lens of Christianity,
is an opportunity to understand suffering;
for it’s from our pain, that we can mature.
With a humbled attitude, we’re uncovering
the need for a relationship with Christ.
Under His leadership, we’ll overcome all
that the enemy employs in a vain attempt
to kill us before Judgment’s roll call.
Within the evangelical lens of Christianity,
we teach the principles of responsibility,
while fulfilling Jehovah’s Great Commission
by the mantle of spiritual accountability.
We can still impact and change this World,
as we move forward under the banner of Christ.
Do you recall, His ultimate victory was won?
Who else has provided access to Eternal Life?
Within the military lens of Christianity,
we battle against the current frontier of sin;
speaking The Word over circumstance with praise,
we triumph over the noise of the World’s din.
Yet, the spiritual conflict belongs to Him,
as we “stand in the gap” with ongoing prayers;
therefore, we’ll remain steadfast and firm,
with the covering of Christ’s righteous flair.
Within the affectionate lens of Christianity,
we still remain loyal as our brother’s keeper;
Love requires tangible action towards others,
until our soul is stalked by the “Grim Reaper”.
Christ demonstrated the ultimate sacrifice,
by bridging the chasm between us and the Godhead;
allow His tenderness and fondness unite us, as…
He binds us with the Love of His scarlet thread.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
2 Cor 1:3-4; 1 Pet 4:1,5:8-10; Phil 1:29;
Eccl 12:13-14; Matt 28:16-20; 1 John 2:24-25;
Eph 6:12
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Satish Verma, 15 july 2015
This night of the long vigil
has betrayed my soul.
Columns of smoke arise
from the landscape of shrines.
There is no need now,
to sing the praise of oblique wars.
Truth has made
a big dent in my heart.
The tears of the bronze statue won’t stop,
they are mixed with blood.
Its pain for pain hurts the flesh.
Orphaned kids move in a circle,
their parched lips in silent prayer.
Remains of bread crumbs strewn on road.
The stench rises from the trash.
A face swims,
of our demolished culture.
Even the vultures are gone.
The dead and living start talking.
Tainted blood flows in dead veins.
Featureless & white.
Gary Revel, 13 july 2015
I took the amtrak to that town one day
Didn't know what for it was on the way
To the place I knew I would soon get to
A place I would find if only I knew
But knowing's not easy when your not yourself
Maybe your the saint or Pope or an elf
It really won't matter later tonight
When they find my body in the train's light
They'll think that I jumped or maybe got killed
The coffin was fine somebody got billed
I had no ID no one knew my name
Just another John Doe no one to blame
How many have gone just to find themselves
In one of the morgue's cold cadaver's shelves
With no one to care except God above
No one to send flowers or even their love
In spite of it all I got off the train
In that little town didn't know it's name
I found myself in the yard of a church
Shade trees of willow maybe oak or birch
All I can say about it now for sure
I found a love that was so sweet and pure
I knelt down on my knees began to pray
God gave me new life as I died that day
Gary Revel
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-day-i-died-2/
Gert Strydom, 13 july 2015
As a Christian I have got a problem
with the omnipotent Lord God being blasphemed
or with His name being used in vain
and with the same occurring with the name of the savior
our Lord Jesus Christ
on television, in the movies and in the daily talk
of some Christians, of people
from every nation, language and every creed
so as if God does not exist
or as if God has become our own playmate
as if His great and holy name means nothing.
I have not heard a person say:
“in Satan’s name”
nor “thank Metatron it’s Friday”
nor “for Buddha’s sake,”
nor “with Allah,”
or “thank the Kabala”
or “Krishna knows,”
or “oh my Jane
or “byAmaterasu”
or “in Shiva’s, in Vishnu’s, or in Devi’s name”
or “under Muhammad”
or “may Maitreya damn him”
or “may Tao forbid it”\
or “Mahatma knows”
or “the Dalai Lama bless his soul”
or “by the help of the ancestors”
yet the great name of the creator God
does ring out continually in the mouths of men.
[Note: With great thanks to Janneman Enslin for the idea for this poem.]
Satish Verma, 13 july 2015
I will cross the twilight zone
to meet you in zero space
negating the fear.
The mauled city
strikes the dumb sky
in unilateral war.
Coming from a bleeding torso
a scream agitates the dolls
playing with pebbles.
Flaming death will not leave footprints
Violence was not coming to stop.
It had many faces.
The very existence had no meaning.
Darkness, was coming down the hills.
Can you bring some flowers?
Sun was nowhere in sight?
Satish Verma, 12 july 2015
Where death
and exotica meet,
life stands naked
in midst of our sacred hymns,
Shadow fighting is not actuality.
An essay on truth fades.
Someday I will pull down the curtain.
At the end of the road, death waits,
apologizing for coming unannounced.
A white cloud drifts in our arms.
The deep sorrow walks with us
and the empty home,
now belongs to moonlight.
In nothingness our achievement claims.
A handful of victories,
tossing here and there.
The empty words transport
the dark lies.
The truth lies bleeding,
and we flee,
from our predictions.
John, 11 july 2015
I wish i had a spacial someone to lay with not on no freaky fantasy but a calm cool ecstasy without the sexy you see just want to hold her in my arm just like how the ocean is wrapped around a dolphin in the open sea she wraps one of her arm around me and the other one holds the back of my neck lol even tho I want to hold you I love it when a female can match and as she lays her ear on my chest listening to the smooth tempo of my heartbeat and as it slowly puts you to sleep and as your body's warmth put my eyes to ezz I hope she is dreaming of me cause I am dreaming of you
John, 11 july 2015
Maybe that’s why turtles come to shore to see me perform I complement my words not my human form It shocks me when females tell me I’m the type of guy their looking for I was raised with independence Chastised through the fire of forgiveness Then baptized by the devil’s fallen minion that rose up and became one of God’s Lethal weapons Now I write, again and again Becoming more intertwined with my rhymes When I write I am a living prodigy only the worthy can sit eye to eye with me I feel more powerful then the Greek gods in thee odyssey The more I write it’s like the pen I use helps me manifest my words theologically As I fill up my space on this page I’m a different man when I write with the pen Like drama is no threat to me We no longer see eye to eye It’s no longer kin to me I can’t speak for everybody but that’s just me
John, 11 july 2015
I TOOK OFF MY VEST NOW LOOK AT MY CHEST IF SHE WAS USING REAL BULLETS I WOULD HAVE BEEN PUT TO REST WIT 22 HOLE IN MY CHEST I WANT A OPEN CASKET I WANT YOU TO SEE HOW MANY TIMES SHE DONE BLASTED BUT SHE PUT THE GUN IN MY HAND LIKE IM THE ONE TO BLAME LIKE I SET MY OWN HEART TO REVIVE ALL THIS PAIN BUT SCENE THE GUN IS I MY HAND IM THE ONE TO BLAME.
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