Satish Verma, 5 may 2015
You forgot the lines
and lineage. Getting all
or nothing, pulling away at the umbilical cord,
seeking liberty to commit a sin
or feeling liberated after committing the sin.
The tone embodies the elopement, unbound,
to invent the disorder
and divide the provocation.
Night was approaching with few stars,
flowing like the squealing of a dark saint,
blameless, under the thin breath
of the dying sun.
Into the orphanage enters the day
riding on the dust of history.
My journey begins into time
to change into another tomorrow.
Zofia Wingmaker, 4 may 2015
I should care more about the person that I wrote poetry for, and not about
Satish Verma, 4 may 2015
It should not have come early;
the death, had insulted the terrible suffering.
Shadows were lengthening.
I wanted to live
in infinite nothingness
of the wrong time.
Hope was not
a perforated dimension,
it was my religion.
When nobody was there
truth was walking with me.
A strange tragedy
was visible only to me.
The future hides in my face.
The terror is too much
with us. No frown of earth
defies the questions of past.
Satish Verma, 3 may 2015
Going back foot
he looked inside himself and felt a breeze
on empty stomach.
Mother-of-pearl,
he was a sand grain in the eye
of a storm.
He wanted to shut off all beliefs
to further the search of truth,
be happened,
and walked alone on the sand dunes
to meet the sun,
and smell the salt of tears,
aloft in sky.
In the stillness of a shadow
he forgives the past
and prepares himself
for the negation to create
a pause.
Satish Verma, 2 may 2015
I threw myself in deep slumber
pledging not to play the game
for others and exiled myself within me
after the rebellion.
A realized being, suffers
at the hand of a thorn skull,
learns to be silent, choking on words
across the pages which are blank.
Immeasurable limits of space and senses
start a hierarchy which will breed contempt.
There was a memory, a suffering of absurdism
I am still caged in.
The kingdom collapses in brilliance of sun,
the man starts another version of hate.
Acquires the blood of royal vein
and promises to become a beautiful cadaver.
Joe Breunig, 1 may 2015
It’s really shameful to acknowledge
the divisiveness of all denominations;
a continuing lack of understanding is…
diluting Love’s message of Salvation.
The ongoing promotion of religious brands
has not convinced or impressed the World;
the wholeness of God’s holy Word must be
embraced by everyone, as His boys and girls.
These current disagreements and hostilities
of religious debates waste our precious time;
clearly a lack of Christian unity of beliefs
blurs the position of Faith’s dividing line.
Silly tendencies to argue, keeps us unfocused
and separated from today’s task of evangelism;
Christ died to unite us in fellowship with Him
and not vying for the best speaker’s magnetism.
Faith’s intimacy really permits us to become one
with God in times of quiet reflection and prayer;
religious brands are simply counter-intuitive,
reducing our effective witness of Heaven’s flair.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
1 Cor 1:10; Rom 16:17
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Satish Verma, 1 may 2015
Let us take another road.
The boundary was not clear
between crime and pardon
between disease and murder.
The cleft in the ravines
had hidden the rifles and landmines
when we were busy in worshipping
the rock face with folded hands
to deliver us from fear and future.
There was no ending, no beginning
of disturbing the beehive
to drink the moon in night,
hear the blues of stars
and swim in dark light.
Where was the heaven?
Enough of nothing was not something?
The cure of curse was not in any hands,
polity of clouds was decaying very fast
they were raining fire on the grass.
Satish Verma, 30 april 2015
To delegate death,
a mirror condenses the human sorrow
with an unclouded
penury.
The suffering competes
with debt and pain,
to find the difference between
just and unjust.
Prayer was not the full answer
to cross the beyond
of starvation.
A parasitic twin always rides
on your shoulder.
That infant of sun lied on earth
in the afterwords.
I heard someone crying
between the names.
Zofia Wingmaker, 29 april 2015
I decided something happy
was all I would need
to help me ignore
your terrible deed
so I hid with some friends
and played hide and seek
and made them all promise
to never ever peek
and I ate all good foods
until I was all full
because a full stomach
always makes me feel cool
and after all that
I took a long bath
and soaked in the bubbles
while I tried not to laugh
because after my day
I'd forgotten all about
that guy that I loved
that one day walked out.
Zofia Wingmaker, 29 april 2015
I feel like i'm slipping,
i'm loosing my grip,
like i''m holding a rope,
that someone might -clip-.
I can't keep struggling,
to hold on to a dream,
and that's all this is,
and it's rushing downstream.
It doesn't matter,
how hard i try,
or even if,
you see me cry.
Because i've lost my grip,
fallen over the edge,
and for all that you know,
I'm already dead.
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