JIM EVER GREEN - Hello Poetry

Mar 2016

Joseph J Breunig 3rd

You were beaten and bruised,
for the sinful likes of me;
three nails pierced Your flesh,
as You were hung… at Calvary.

An unthinkable act of Love
was cruelly executed for me;
for You took the punishment,
that had been… meant for me!

With forgiveness on Your breath,
You requested a pardon for those,
who carried out judgment on You,
as a death sentence was imposed.

A spear was ****** in Your side,
as Your demise was underscored;
when it was mundanely removed,
both blood and water had poured.

[chorus]
On The Cross of Calvary,
Love was brokenhearted;
Salvation was paid in full;
Grace’s flow was started.

[bridge]
We don’t fully understand,
God’s goodness towards us;
Sin’s debt was wiped out,
by the sacrifice of Jesus.

We adore Him, since Christ
had truly loved us first;
He bore the painful brunt
of payment for Sin’s curse.
.
.
.
Author notes

Inspired by:
1 Pet 2:24; Gal 3:10-14; 1 John 4:19

Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.

#poetry #faith #of #the #christian #on #cross #breunig #calvary

Mar 2016

wordvango

Am I ?

Am i the literary element without
plot, theme, tone?
Or the protagonist killed before reaching his goal?
Am I the underlying meaning...
or but a minor theme? Narrative revolves
around me, I digress.
No Shakespearean Romeo, my character.
And, my thesis,
may have several themes-

Plots never progress beyond what
I with such scant success
imply with my heart...and it never lies.
the show,
less?

Mar 2016

Randolph Llewellyn Wilson

Night ...

The enchanting Moon over my Hill Country .. The poetic Moon over the world .. I pray the Moon you see this evening is over a peaceful , affectionate portion of our fragile Earth .. Goodnight ...

Copyright March 20 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved

I hope the tempering of relations with Cuba will allow us to hear from their poets soon . I'm sure it is brilliant prose !!!! Can't wait :) :)

Mar 2016

Sofia

insignificance

in a cathedral of my own making
i am dust basked in sun light
with hands stretched out
to love the pillars
that have held me up
when the stained glass windows
were celebrated for the
light they let in
and the most divine part of me
the cracks of my temple at
the bottom of my spine were
left to widen like horizons
begging to be spread farther
were left like myths untold
but all the stories are true
and the smallest parts of me
are not fables and myths
left to keep your imagination
alive and you afloat
the smallest parts of me
are particles that have
held me up longer
than you have
and i may be alone
just as many of us are
but who has time to
count a star
when astronomers count
galaxies on the tips of their fingers
and i am but an atom of the universe
just as we all are

#science #earth #insignificance #cosmos #astronomy #singularity

Mar 2016

Sofia

an artist's love letter

i saw you the way an artist does
brilliant and bathed in holy fire
your scars
the strokes of a brush
your anatomy every medium
your smile
a photograph in
black and white
your lips
oil on canvas
your eyes
watercolor on paper
your hair
texture and dimension
on a portrait
you and i
an unfinished graffiti
an unorthodox art form
fleeting and reflective
but a masterpiece
nonetheless

#love #art #masterpiece #painting #artist #graffiti

Mar 2016

Nico Reznick

Entropy Always Wins

Some days you surface into,
and there's no distracting yourself from
that irrefutable inevitability that
- ultimately -
entropy will win.
No quantity of
authentic artisan coffee or online memes
or juicing can
pull you out of the
black hole gravity
of that one truth.
The evidence is everywhere:
the spiteful confusion of electrical cables
your sleep-stupid fingers
fumble and fail to untangle;
the mold on the bread you
swore would keep a few more days;
the putrid, burst-open remains of
a pink armchair, left to rot in a
stranger's front garden;
the scavenging army of crows that loiters,
waiting for you to die and, in the
meantime, walks ****** little footprints
around your eyes;
the oxidation of
so many dreams.

It's inescapable.
Might as well root for the winner.
Embrace the decay.
Take photographs of
rust, smashed glass, peeling paint, dead flowers.
Learn to love faded colours and the feel
of broken things.
Catalogue your most
interesting scars and mutilations.
And, while you can,
write poetry.

#death #art #philosophy #entropy #mortality #decay #pretentious

Mar 2016

brandon nagley

Smaoinigh ar na lillies an réimse ( Consider the lillies of the field) irish tongue

Consider the lillies of the field
Mine love, they do not toil
Nor spin;

Consider God's love for
Both of us love;
Heaven we shalt get in.

Consider the lillies of the field
Mine love, they do not worry
Of the morrow;

Consider ourn blessing's mine
Love, for we art preordained,
Predestined, exladranes-
Some calleth us mad,
Crazed insane.

Consider the lillies of the field
Mine love, O' how ourn Lord
Taketh care of them all.
As he taketh care of us
Fairest Jane of them all.

©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

exladrane- a word I made up meaning ( extrasolar travelers on a path to a destination most men and women can't go)
Morrow- means tommorrow..
Lillie's of field I got from this-

Matthew chapter 6:25-34 king James bible.

25 Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?
26 Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?
27 Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?
28 And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:
29 And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
30 Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?
31 Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?
32 (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.
33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.
34 Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

This is telling gods children as Christ is one speaking...
Tells us why worry of tommorrow? Arent the lillies of the field clothed? Don't the birds have homes and nests... Arent gods creatures taken care of? So he tells us not to worry. But instead seek God's kingdom first and his righteousness and all other things will be added onto us. Though we must seek first gods kingdom. Christs father Gods kingdom....this is telling mine Jane don't worry of tommorrow or the next day. But just think about today for the morrow worries of itself.. And truth! I have problem with worrying so this message does go for me to. Lol I seem to forget alot God is in control and is in charge ...not Me. Him!!!

Toil- means overworking in short terms...

#lovers #king #soulmates #queen #hari #reyna #earl-jane-nagley #lillies-of-the-field #god-takes-careofourneeds #no-more-worrying

Mar 2016

Randolph Llewellyn Wilson

First Hint of Day ...

A smiling face in the window of wonder and sheer delight ,
Feverish accounts of the confectionary woodland and the lemon drop sunny sky ..
In wonder of every 'puffy cloud' in the morning light ,
A most curious child in awe of 'Cotton candies' devise !

Mar 2016

Nico Reznick

Winter Romance

They don't speak, all the long,
winding bus journey.  They are
strangers, with nothing in common
besides the No 50 route
and the free travel passes
afforded to them on account
of their quietly advancing years.
She sits in the seat in front of him.
Their eyes never lock.  His myopic
gaze through thick NHS lenses
rests neutral on the back of her head,
her softly blue-rinsed curls and the collar
of an eminently sensible overcoat.
They sit, both silent, as
- outside the foggy bus windows -
winter has one last chew on
time's bony old carcass.
She has a slight stoop which
she's doing her best to hide, and his
shaking hands make his liver spots blur.
They stand - the bus stopping at their
mutual destination - shuffling sideways
into the aisle, and something
unexpected
happens.
The bus jolts suddenly forwards,
then lurches to a startled halt,
and she falls backwards
into his arms
and he
catches her.
For a second,
strange gravities assume control.
There's a moment,
governed by different laws of
physics and chemistry
and half-forgotten, half-remembered biology.
She flushes, infused with something
warm and thirst-whettingly girlish, and he
surges with a newfound potency,
standing taller, the woman he's supporting
somehow lessening the burden of his age.
Her spine straightens, and
she laughs.  His face, smiling, youthens.
His hands hold her unstooped shoulders and
don't tremble.
Sun breaks through cloud outside the window.
They remember it's spring out there somewhere.

Based on an incredibly cute event I witnessed on the bus today.

#romance #old #age #humans #moments #observational #elderly #journeys #interaction #accidental

Mar 2016

nivek

a spirit made for love, and loving

The spirit would have freedom from its Earth bound flesh
but the experience of suffering is turned to profit,
when the pain is turned to art, for some,
and the thin veil is pulled slightly back, and a taste of freedom is granted,
the eternal freedom of a spirit made for love, and loving.