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poetry

Bob Gotti, 18 october 2013

Judgment Day

Judgment Day will soon be here, what do Christians have to fear?
Nothing, for they know The Truth, we shall not see God’s Reproof,
The judgment that shall be poured, down on the earth by The Lord,
Christians are upon another path, and will not see the Lord’s Wrath.

Believers, will be judged in His Love, at Christ’s Bema Seat above,
We too will be judged, for our works, which will have eternal perks,
For all the things done for our Lord, we may receive eternal reward,
But, for all done by selfish desire, those works, will be burnt in fire,

If we do above face any trouble, it shall be hay, wood and stubble,
As all our works, Christ shall define, through the Fire of His design,
All that makes it through the fire, were our works of His pure desire,
As on earth we served Jesus Christ, during our temporal earthly life.

After this, a Supper with The Lamb, up above with The Great “I AM.”
Dining with Jesus Christ, our Lord, Who, down here, we’ve adored,
During that time upon the earth, now in Heaven, through New Birth,
For at the time that we believed, Eternal Life from Him we received.

Through Wrath we need not to cope, as His Judgment is our Hope,
For we’ll be taken from this earth, up into Heaven, in our New Birth,
Now perfect, with Christ for all time, all through God’s pure design,
To return to former ways, never, but, to reign with The Lord forever.

(Copyright ©09/2012 Bob Gotti)

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Anthony DiMichele, 17 october 2013

in my sleep

I can't pay you back or in the fast forward
of my future's present
I can't find the present
because it is living in a fictional future
bearing my name
away
as I disappear into my work
for nothing besides the making
filling a spot on a floor for a bed
working toward revolution
in my sleep
the lies go on and on and on
I have no credibility with myself
without you involved
and you have none when you are
I want to give it all back
to you
it has always been yours
I always said never
there is always a lot of dead time
for speculation
and I find it intriguing
thank you thank you from the bottom
there is finally no where left to go
for any reason
without means
and I have mellowed into a neutral smile
a line seperating nothing
inserting its self like a scar
that stitches the tear in the face
into lips
*

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Joe Breunig, 17 october 2013

Poem: The God Habit

Praising the Lord, on each and every Sabbath,
is a small piece of practicing “the God Habit”.

For one of the best ways for healthy livin’,
is using the brain, that you’ve been given.

Know that thoughts always precede your actions;
idle words leak power and create distractions.

Where the mind goes, the Man always follows;
is it better to walk in the Light or in shadows?

Commune with the Spirit to avoid fleshly lusts;
demonstrate that in Him, you really do trust.

Real success and fellowship is possible in life,
when you are in a sacred relationship with Christ.

Prevent the daily repetition of earthly mistakes;
Don’t be attached to this world - pull up your stakes.

To overcome evil with good choices and decisions,
you must lift up your spiritual eyes and envision…

how you are loved, with regards to His crucifixion!
Embrace this Truth and His supernatural convictions.

With our blessed Lord, one must spend quality time,
to insure the eternal hope of… walking the Godly line.

Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Rom 8:5, 12:21; Gal 5:16; Col 3:1-2; 2 Cor 10:4-5;
Prov 18:20-21; 2 Tim 2:16

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.

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Gert Strydom, 17 october 2013

White-sight

Your words do tear me to pieces
and I wonder how such things come from your mouth?
I have disguised my bitter pain from you
and too many times I had to swallow away my own humanity.
Everything that I can I have pressed into our love
and at times my own will have been almost mute,
while I hoped for love to flower again
but by force you have twisted my life around
and now I know that nothing can melt the ice in your glacier-heart
not even my blood, the sun or whatever my love does
and it’s as if you are a part of an ice-age
but maybe you are tuned to your own ways and things,
do prefer this cold season above spring and summer
and at times six months of darkness.

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Gert Strydom, 17 october 2013

White-sight

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Gert Strydom, 17 october 2013

When life keeps folding in on you

When life keeps folding in on you
and half scared off you look at the whole world
where without understanding it’s hostile against you
and like a hungry fox you do keep at a distance
with a kind of unrest burning in you
as if every hand and tooth
wants to devour you
while you leave bloody tracks in the sand
and you do hear your own small cries
when you become unemployed
just before your days of old age
and aliens gather like vultures around you
and against this kind of madness
you are totally mute.

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Satish Verma, 17 october 2013

INTROSPECTIVE

the pulsating ache of flogging
after internal cave-in, a goldfish gets smeared
with sperm, unclosing, opening a slaughtered canal
for the drooping roses under the black wings

of shame when in our translucency we were
generously distributing arms to legless boys
for transporting the name across the aisle of memories,
the history repeats again in agony

of centuries. The salt inside a name wakes up
a darkness hauled up from eyes of faithfulls
between the sentences and nude angels, a stroke
will empty the womb of earth;

i do not want to know, what will happen to shaking
robots of mercy-homes, drilling the holes in
walls of love? Will the rain come again of red
drizzle on the mountains, the drought had already sucked up

Satish Verma

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Anthony DiMichele, 16 october 2013

ignorance

scientists who deny the utter destructiveness
of their methods and outcomes
the actual historical results of their work
their compliance with and submission to corporations
that control research with unsustainable aims
these scientists who cannot account for our origins
or consciousness
are also those who claim life is inherently meaningless
and that life began out of nothingness
rather than simply admitting their ignorance
*

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Anthony DiMichele, 16 october 2013

dreams

my dreams scare me
I am an absence in them
a feeling hard to shake off
after waking up
*

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Gert Strydom, 16 october 2013

On the tips of my fingers

You are well-known to the tips of my fingers
and in the evenings when I lie right against you,
when the moon whispers secret things to the night
the being together becomes a great adventure
and then I am shaking.

When blood rushes through my veins,
your heart beat out love codes against my hand
then I notice the small things of you,
when your are at home in my arms
and against me all night long.

With the softness of your supple back,
the inter-twisting of leg over leg
we do lie together as one
and I feel the hot air

when your breath comes against my cheek,
when you are embracing me right through the night
and against me your skin is hot and soft
but somewhere at a time
we turn away from each other.

When words become bloodless
we do not even have to talk
when it’s raining outside in the dark street
as love has got its own meanings
and its own way of saying things

but when I do wake up
you are right against me
when it’s as if the whole day is only waiting
for the last magic of the night
and you smell like a spring garden full of new flowers

before the night disintegrates before the bright sun.

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Latest items:

poetry

Judgment Day

in my sleep

Poem: The God Habit

White-sight

White-sight

When life keeps folding in on you

INTROSPECTIVE

ignorance

dreams

On the tips of my fingers

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