Bob Gotti, 20 february 2014
Calm and slow with God I am sure, through this trial I will endure,
As God is with me in this trial, He shall strengthen me, no denial,
Through hardship, whatever I face, God will supply ample Grace,
Grace that’s unlimited friend, all from my God, beginning to end.
Indeed, God’s Grace will abound, this while I face another round,
Another round while in this race, comforted by unyielding Grace,
God’s Grace provided from above, as He leads me, in His Love,
Through yet another trying day, providing comfort along the way.
With His Spirit He keeps me calm, knowing that I am in His Palm,
In God’s grip and there to stay, He helps me through day to day;
God helps me through every turn, as His Spirit helps me to learn,
To lean upon The Lord through all, that’s in any trial, big or small.
Through God’s Grace I find peace, when my trial does not cease,
When my trials are wearisome, the Peace of God’s sure to come,
Always calming to my weary soul, knowing that God is in control,
In every trial or circumstance, God’s Grace comes not by chance.
God’s Grace comes just in time, never by chance but His design,
Dispensed, right from His Throne, as The Lord cares for His own;
His Loving Grace I first received, the moment in Christ, I believed,
His presence shall leave me never, as God’s Love abides forever.
(Copyright ©05/2011 Bob Gotti)
Bob Gotti, 20 february 2014
Small minds truly think alike, while, we have the mind of Christ,
For Christ has a Glorified mind, one which is of an eternal kind,
So all believers think far above, small minds, which I speak of,
Those believing there’s no God, and limited to this earthly sod.
We’re seated in heavenly realms; small minds, this overwhelms,
Seated in Heaven with Jesus Christ, Who’s given us eternal life,
A thought that is much too tall, for their thinking, which is small,
Small enough to dismiss Truth, that from God has all the proof.
All the proof man could need, to believe, but they will not heed,
Since they dismiss The Creator, they have no need for a Savior,
But, in due time they’ll find, they were mislead, by a small mind,
By the thinking much too small, to accept God, Who is over all.
We may be shallow in their eyes, however, in Christ we are wise,
With the mind of Christ our Savior, as we embraced our Creator,
The One Who created all we see, The Lord God over all Eternity,
Christ is Lord, over all, my friend, as all shall see come the end.
But the small minds can change, in the Power of Christ’s Name,
When they see they were blind, they too can have Christ’s mind,
By repenting to turn to God’s Son, the very Creator of everyone,
When God’s Truth they believe, the mind of Christ they’ll receive.
(Copyright ©05/2011 Bob Gotti)
Bob Gotti, 20 february 2014
Be still to watch the Hand of the Lord, as our ways are not ignored,
By Jesus Christ, throned high above, any trial, which you speak of;
There is purpose in our trials friend, as many will see come the end,
When in Christ you take your stand, as He guides us with His Hand.
God’s Hand held up high, shall guide, all those who in Christ abide,
As Believers wait upon The Lord, His Grace, down on us is poured,
Filling us with peace, from up above, as God guides is in His Love,
With His Purpose above our ways, as Christ guides us all our days.
God has His Uplifted Hand, raised to guide us in ways He planned,
Planned before we were on earth, even well before our natural birth,
Friend, even when we lived in sin, well before, any thoughts of Him,
God’s Plan led us to Jesus Christ, to receive from Him Eternal Life.
God’s Hand indeed guides all of us, all who belong to Christ Jesus,
He Who redeemed us from the fall, daily guides and protects us all,
God guides us on a path of Grace, as we learn to seek Gods Face,
For God’s Will shall surely be done, as we’re led by Christ, His Son.
By His Hand, He will take us home, where we’ll gather at His Throne,
High above all the earthly clouds, gathered round Heavenly Crowds,
As we join God’s Heavenly Throng, we shall join in praise and song,
To our Lord God through eternity, for all He’s done, for you and me.
(Copyright ©05/2011 Bob Gotti)
Greg, 19 february 2014
So the tables turn round and round
And a rhyme scheme begins to emerge
From the pits of desolate chaotic fear
Rampaging against
Against
Against….
…against…against
(Drifting to a hollow whisper)
The technology takes over
And implodes my attempt at making something sobering
To drag you down into the shit and the mud
That I revel in
I say that its my pain
But the game is all in my head
Swirling rushes of winds and hairy things
Running like the apostles against the horsemen
Of four opposing winds
Left dormant on the train tracks
To touch the little child
And never look back
Sneak attack
The ego that resides
In the meadows of poetized
Living, breathing butterflies
That have beauty so true
And appreciation so contrived
That I could find it dope sick
In the back alleys of a whore house in Japan
In the meddling pussies of the young girls
Who give their life into the hands
Of Western glory businessman
Who are rapists, but innocent all the same
I am condemning for the sake of easing
Some of my inner pain
Rush rush rush down the alley way street
To hear the beats
Of feet that tell stories
And the children come together
Holding hands in cold hands
The band erupts softly
To heed quiet the land
The sand that seeps softly
Between our tangled feet
Aghast at the shoreline
The whispering foresight
The languishing preparation
Of sad gypsy songs
Hear the cries to fall hollow
Bring light from beneath ground teeth
Sink the pail
Own the reliable serpent
To come up your leg into the sacred lick
Command Command Command
I am Afraid!!!
Relinquish the background hologram
And touch the penguin’s feet
Alone in the night
Speaking of fright
Lunging at light
To feel incomplete
Jack off the shadows that swallow your head
Rail the gears and break…
The rhymes are descending back into hell
Into chaos
And the meter breaks
CRACK
I want to write more
But I want to feel satisfied
And if I keep writing we will walk on forever
Like Da Vinci who could never smile inside
But to notice the gruesome frown that ripped at his soul
And in maniacle terror
And inward asceticism
Chased down the rabbit hole
To find nothing and no one
The sunstricken grief
Of a life incomplete
Satish Verma, 19 february 2014
When we slept through our
naked loops, there was a silent call.
Moon was out walking on the street
peeping through the glass window,
the crossed legs.
Trees were meshed up in dark. Do you
know the impropriety of leaves, climbing
on each other? Dogs inbreeding? Incestuous in camera.
The elixir of life. Recycled urine. We
were not crying. It was the urgency
to die to challenge the infinity.
We get paralysed. Our legs will not
move on fallen skulls. Blood was everywhere.
The terrorists on terrace, negotiating for a massive
ransom. This interwar was wholesome. The
hysterical confusion breaks us apart
and morgue was full of kissing gods.
Satish Verma
Greg, 18 february 2014
The pace erupts to leave stagnant
The grayness that permeates
Turning shinning, soulful blackness
To bleak unfeeling
The shame that arises from unintended numbness
Like being raped into submission
By the suffocation howls
Of the lonely night
Grasping at the reach
The linked up end of the fence
To travel a road
That leads
Nowhere
Who can understand?
That a triviality blooms in the wake
Of a shadow half-elated
To try to remake
Itself into a soft melody
So self-aware it never feels
More than what it knows of
Half-convinced that it isn’t real
To deal
Shatter the image looking glass
So soft
In the laughter of yesterday’s joy
Together
Rip the arms from the fetus grasp
Holding to its mother tight
Masturbating
At the love that’s lost
The beaten trek that leads to the light
Untouched candle
Brimming with loathsome suffering
To touch softly
The relentless gaze of a holy shadow
A light that knows no love
A bond that creates a chain
To give away
All of his lonely pain
Into the falsified name
That leads astray
From the essence of him-self
Len Gesinski, 18 february 2014
(an eventual)Crashing
Just how many times
can you keep tempting fate?
that number, it’s your number
that which
comes around
eventually
then..only then
when
there is finally
no
turning back…no do overs…
at that point
at any point
if life is
in review
just before
decisions..deciding..decided?
to
step through
the gray
to the
inevitable
darkness
what is…were?
your greatest
regrets
pains
angsts
secrets..hidden
that
still haunt…pain
you
or have you
already
heard..felt..sensed
some inevitable calling?
deathwish
just what makes you tick?
can you see?
can you hear?...
can you feel?
anybody?
somebody?
something?
anything?
is there really
still…
no other way?
there is still time
a chance
your chance
want?
change of path
direction
choice…yours
(an eventual)Crashing©Leonard.C. Gesinski All Rights Reserved(02/18/2014)
http://leng64.wordpress.com/2014/02/18/an-eventualcrashing/
Satish Verma, 18 february 2014
Washed by tears, the flame kindled again.
Crimson magma was quick to engulf
the drops on forehead. Fired from close range
the bullets opened the bloodgates in quick succession.
It should not have happened!
Therefore the journey resumes outside the good
or the evil. The rdx bombs are found at
your doorsteps and you watch helplessly the
murder on dining table.
Are you safe in linens of truth? The lip
gloss of diplomacy will work? The sea
was turbulent and a hijacked trawler was left
on waves with the shot body of captain.
Your hands are trembling on the knobs without
doors. Through the death I perceive a
child crying in the arms of a sobbing galaxy.
There were needles on the road and our
soles were bleeding.
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 17 february 2014
A toxic tongue laps the ocean
and fish goes to sleep at bottom.
I do not know from where to start.
A distraught candle flickers.
The blast victim was pregnant and
the foetal head got severed off in womb.
There were big holes in intelligence.
Raw fledgling. The evil existed
in every room. I was not able
to open a single door.
Because they were blind,
taking roots in soil of ancestral graves
on the name of god,
throwing blue stars
in the eyes of believers.
Satish Verma
Kemms, 16 february 2014
Work a bit longer
Don't go home yet
There's nobody there
Nobody's waiting for you
We already have a lot
We even want more
So work a bit longer
For our economy
We'll pay you
Your hard work
Not nearly equal
To your effort
But work a bit longer
Nobody's waiting for you
As abundance's waiting for us
Only that matters
You have two jobs
And third and fourth sometimes
Not much free time
Not much money
It makes us happy
Loaded with plenty
You will always work
And never be happy
So work a bit longer
Marry the routine
Of endless torture
We'll pay you
With grey skin
Broken mind
Lonely nights
Only us matters ...
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