Joe Breunig, 27 march 2015
What is it, that really stops you,
from inviting Christ into your heart?
Are you afraid of the responsibilities
or opportunities that can be imparted?
Have you taken quality time to thank God,
for the many blessings you’ve received?
How do you describe your current lifestyle-
living victoriously or partially relieved?
Where are you placing your trust each day?
Do you posses false hope in World systems,
or Hope in the principles of The Holy Word?
Where are you searching for the valuable gems
that will sustain your entire, life journey?
Are you energized with a real, Christian verve
that motivates your ongoing actions of Faith,
from knowing The Lord, Whom you daily serve?
Before it’s too late, open your heart to Him.
Take personal stock, look back and thank Him.
Open your eyes, look around and serve Him.
Look ahead via His Spirit and trust… in Him.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
Rev 3:20; Psa 95:2-3; Gal; 3:6-9; John 12:26;
Rom 1:18-20
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Satish Verma, 26 march 2015
I believe, I had not arrived
when you were arbitrating
between naked steel and the truth.
Violence were you. I was watching
the burning pyres in a row. Small hands
were collecting the ashes,
casting glances on the falcons.
Why reincarnation of the reaper again and again
arching the helpless life in terror?
Half-filled cups of tears are spilled
on the marbled smoke.
We made the truce with slaughter
in moonlight pitying the survivors in sun.
The face watching from the window disappears.
An auburn dawn wakes with swollen eyes.
I might find a lost child of the empty womb –
wandering in wilderness of three dimensional sorrow.
O mother! somewhere the roots are waiting!
Satish Verma, 25 march 2015
Today I will shed my body
and meet you halfway at watery address.
My eyes were not blinking to hold the clouds.
To live or not to live was a great pain.
Two small hands and two bubbling eyes
glued to a broken wall was my hope.
And glitter of the road,
fallen trees,
dead panther,
had sacrificed my sun.
I think I live to die daily,
and die daily to live again
over the enormous property of shame.
Melting in my own blood
I was becoming dark.
The night was dancing on my sadness.
Now it was me, shaking in remoteness
of a distant voice!
Irena, 24 march 2015
We had no need to speak
Had no need to talk
To eachother
To every other
Like children chasing kites
We think our words are dragons
that spit fire
so we keep them to ourselves,
fearing and aching
But one day,
The ache will go away
Our thoughts will become bigger than us
and we will use them as our shields
The kites will fly away
The dragons will die
Words shall remain
And we will tell them to eachother.
Satish Verma, 24 march 2015
Any need to stitch an acid,
bare designed, in endoplasm,
when moon was walking like a full-breasted bride?
The synthetic feat was neat and clinical,
yet I want to turn back and talk about
something which heals the spirit of winged sorrow.
Marrow implant blooms like pink dough.
Can you walk straight,
think clean?
Organs for sale; mannequins are real flesh, bones, heart.
Roasted incense of sick birds floats –
you become a possessed iris.
Can you do something?
My limbs are aching, terrific pain.
Want to run like a stricken buck,
go for fasting like a schizophrenic,
become a letter undelivered
and message written off!
What is the truth then?
I cannot afford to accept the defeat!
Satish Verma, 23 march 2015
Tonight I will not sleep
I will call you in my eyes.
My hands were trembling
when I opened the book.
Words you uttered long back
tumbled out ashen-faced.
I started burning inside.
Where did we take a wrong turn?
The oven had baked a burnt-out
face. They are altering genes.
Suddenly it is going to start
a riot among the gods,
a pure kill.
Frightened I move in circles around
the little black hole in the center.
Martians would throw the boys
to appease the hungry angels.
Satish Verma, 22 march 2015
Hold me tight, my friend,
I am going to sail in damnation.
Between devil and saint
I have lost my home.
A wooden ship is on fire
at the turbulent sea
and I am going to welcome you
on the starboard.
I would keep the funeral in waiting.
Flowering of the ashes has begun
in urn. Sitting in semicircle, you watch
the spilling. Bones meet mother earth.
Death creates the challenge.
Go for a tree, watch your silence,
we are going for a contradiction.
The thoughts are same, but not similar.
I am walking on sharp edges.
Salvatore Ala, 21 march 2015
Flower of kisses
Luminous arc between lovers
Flower of God
Withering when I grasp it
Flower of blood
Coagulates violence
Flower of peace
Elsewhere a weed
Flower of starlight
In clusters
Flower of time
Blossoming space
Satish Verma, 21 march 2015
A river was frozen in my chest, O god –
I choose a burning boat to reach you.
My planet has become a broken bridge.
Voiceless hymns are haunting me.
Standing in a remote village of words,
my poetry beside me.
I want to cross the thick woods.
The hairy legs of tarantula –
I am ready to meet them on my body.
A skylark ejects a lyric at my terrace,
I become a flame.
Pour honey, pour water
I will glow more. The sparks will stay hidden.
When the sky would be overcast and dark,
thousands of stars will come out.
Suddenly there will be light.
Salvatore Ala, 20 march 2015
All at once nature was old;
It touched the roots of gold--
And darkness, made of light,
Cast a shadow vast as night.
Soldiers wouldn’t fight.
Drones got lost in flight.
Artists grew so cold
Marble left them unconsoled.
All at once we saw
In each a universal flaw:
Earth was a child
Born to be reviled.
Believers couldn’t believe,
Mourners wouldn’t grieve.
Warmongers went to hell
For the sin of living well.
Politicians couldn’t lie.
Polluters wouldn’t try.
Everything went opposite
The direction of profit.
All at once the earth died;
Civilization,left untried--
And darkness, made of night,
Cast a shadow vast as light.
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