Satish Verma, 8 december 2012
When life falls apart
you do not pick up the shadow.
It is the shadow, which
gathers you in arms.
Little things make a difference
a diety comes at your door.
And a gift lies broken
a little bread was black.
Satish Verma
Djamesrushlow, 7 december 2012
In this palace of printed pages
I catch trains and paint vivid rains
I get lost in paper-thin caves
and soar with papercranes
I flow through wisdoms veins
peering through the minds eye
I flip and pause and flip again
I love This Paper Place
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Gert Strydom, 7 december 2012
Perfect love is such a strange kind of thing
in a way a kind of sublime paradigm
where we are searching something unending
that still stays even through the end of time,
as if it is eternally living.
Gert Strydom, 7 december 2012
Your cries have got pleasure, not pain
that rips right through the sheer silence
in a joyful experience
and to me our passion is plain
something that no words can explain.
Gert Strydom, 7 december 2012
I think about your bright face
as if you are right here with me
but far too quickly the image wants to disappear
as if there is nothing left
and my attention stray to outside, to the street.
Ailill, 7 december 2012
Problema
A priceless pearl, she was daddy’s girl,
until she was lured away from home
by the temptations of the world.
Her dad, a retired policeman, was loyal
to the law, and dutiful to his girl
up to that fateful, stormy night
when he caught her in his sight,
forcing him to make a choice, choosing
between love and his ideals of right;
trading love for the law and its duties.
She had hidden her habit for a while
behind white lies and an innocent smile,
but ruled by the dictates of desire
an endless, unquenchable fire,
each day, its flames growing higher,
she couldn’t keep herself from her games,
and in life everything has it’s price,
to pay the tag for her using ways
she would have to make a sacrifice,
betraying her dad for the pusher man.
She had planned on the sly with cash stashed
but with the loss of each nickel and dime
she ran herself further into a jamb,
until her bank account was bone dry,
savings drained away by king cocaine.
Costs mounting, she didn’t know what to do
except to break into her father’s safe
and make off with his cache of jewels,
one at a time, sure he wouldn’t miss them!
Excusing herself into his bedroom
when he was napping or in the basement,
fooling around with his machines and tools.
She had gotten by, but with the tick of time
nothing can hide, it all comes to light.
Maybe it was the storm brewing that night,
but dad, he forgot something upstairs
and that’s when he found her standing there,
his clown’s hand caught by the cookie jar,
breaking her dad’s heart, lives torn apart.
He called down to the station, turned her in.
Cuffing her, they hauled her off to the pen.
Shame doubled by another tragedy,
in jail, she learned dad had lost his sanity.
The absurdity made him lose faith in life.
For love, he committed suicide,
breaking in pain, his life lived in vain,
for upholding the rules of it’s games.
Daddy is now out of the picture,
but not his girl, held in jail,
her life hell, she is left to suffer.
She sits in torment over her sin,
betrayal of herself as daddy’s girl.
For her, will healing ever begin?
Or will she burn slow in the heat of her woes?
Reflection
While reading Kierkegard’s ‘Fear and Trembling’
and writing my memoirs, I fell to reflecting,
mind meandering into a rambling
incoherent state, I became stuck between
law, faith, life and all that it dictates.
Life is like trying to snare a fox,
full of absurdity and paradox.
Since the opening of Pandora’s box,
only hope leads us on, but the law
sees our flaws, and life is a poem,
with no easy solutions. We come and go
like the rain’s ceaseless cycle,
and the catch is loving these passing shapes,
while realizing they are but charades.
This life that we all participate in
has held us imprisoned since
our beginning, through our suffering
we hope to gain a piece of heaven,
paying lip service to codes, regulations,
maintaining the illusion of control,
afraid to break the mold, secrets untold.
But is the law our salvation?
Maybe dying before death is the key,
but how, when it’s this life tempting me?
Upon living, reflection
is easier than participation.
I for one, feel unworthy
of the task as it is given.
Now that I have spoken,
old crow laughs at the joke.
Satish Verma, 7 december 2012
Keep the paper blank,
do not write anything new.
Words were abducted earlier also
Let the truth speak from the folds
of dying clocks.
Fauns were searching the human
abodes for fake currency of truth. There
was no method in their method. Do you
find a pride in their attacks? A strange
militia had joined hands with sleep mafia.
My soul colours the half-black berries.
The sum will not eat them.
Father was beaten in war of tricks
I still follow the laws of kindness
in filling the extended empty cups.
Satish Verma
Joe Breunig, 6 december 2012
Sufficient for the day is the Lord’s grace,
although the day has troubles of its own;
remain standing on the foundation of faith,
for the secret… is going before God’s throne.
Daily measures of mercies and love are available,
since Christ our advocate is making intercessions
that lift us up – for when we eventually fall down,
as the result of our sinful transgressions.
Sufficient for the day is the Lord’s joy,
although the day has troubles of its own;
God’s love for us has been made evident,
seeing the Son’s Salvation has been made known.
With a new day, stillness may certainly come;
unite your voice with eternity’s songs.
Become comfortable now for giving God praise,
in preparation of joining the heavenly throng.
Sufficient for the day is the Lord’s strength,
although the day has troubles of its own;
so lift us up after we fall again, as we realize…
that Your grace and peace has been already sown.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Matt 6:34
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
Joe Breunig, 6 december 2012
The morally deficient have no clue,
not finding God within their heart;
are they absorbed by corruption
and unwillingly from sin to depart?
Our Lord gazes down upon Mankind,
seeing the vileness of human deeds.
Do these workers of iniquity know anything
about meeting any of humanity’s needs?
So many souls are wickedly consumed,
analogous to the devouring of bread.
How unfortunate and Godless they were,
being overwhelmed by fears and dread.
Therefore, don’t repeat the mistake
of never calling upon the eternal Lord;
for His presence is among the righteous
and those remaining with Him in one accord.
Salvation is available to everyone.
Learn to draw strength from the Lord’s power,
which is forever revealed in His Holy Word.
He can also be your refuge and strong tower.
Become a permanent inhabitant of Zion,
covered under the Kingdom’s protection.
Be filled with love, joy and gladness,
as children shining… with His reflection.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Psalm 14; 2 Sam 22:3; Prov 14:26, 18:10, 61:3
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
Joe Breunig, 6 december 2012
Become a spiritual light upon a hill, with faith
that does not flicker or become extinguished.
Let your life shine, thereby allowing the God-colors
within your life to draw others to Christ.
There is no hiding from Jehovah; why even try?
The Lord is not a man, that He should lie!
Learn to naturally avoid all forms of evil
and shun potential occurrences of spiritual upheaval.
Light always pierces and scatters the darkness.
Light some candles; cursing the shadows
accomplishes nothing meaningful or useful.
Cast off any works or semblances of darkness.
There is no hiding from Jehovah; why even try?
The Lord is not a man, that He should lie!
For His holy wisdom provides solutions with clarity;
embrace Him and His principles and finally see…
Darkness is more than obscurity; it shows lack;
it demonstrates the absence of Truth and Light.
Hidden things will ultimately be revealed,
before our righteous Lord and His Kingdom.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Luke 8:17; Matt 5:14-16; Rom 13:11-12; Job 12:22, 34:22
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
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