I desperately grasp at your clothes while I
drown in the void, a foreboding farewell
The changing of seasons
The changing of ages
When was it again that I fell?
Down at the shoreline
Where the sea and the sky
meet, an immense divide.
Deafening self-made arguments
What day will I finally die?
I only caught glimpses of his eyes while he spoke
words, lacerating this pneuma
and stuffing superlatives in this innermost being.
the wisdom I believed I possessed tumbled like Jericho
and I could hear the audacious screams of the Israelites
like blood torrents in arteries.
it’s a shame, I thought. He had a good heart.
pomegranate pnumbras flicker like fire behind my eyelids
and it burns there, too.
can I leave?
a smooth muscle ***** pumps blood and serotonin through platelets back into arteries
and I hungrily drink this newfound oxygen.
and all around the splintered cage
I saw orange slice smiles and white yacht clouds drifting through a blue ocean.
but a quick slip up pulled me away
and the faceless effigy stood pristine with metaphorical eyes,
of which I only caught a glimpse.
Say what was that you said?
So glib, so sure, so true.
Sweet talking you.
Hey, money talks
Talk, talk, talk
He talks strategic arms
And limitations talks
He talks the talk
And walks the walk
She’ll talk strategic arms
And limitations talks
If you want to
If it pleases you
If it keeps you safe
Makes you comfortable
Well, no one quite knows what he knows
What was that you just said
Between strategic arms and limitation talks
I heard you say
“The preliminary party of your subsequent and diplomatic arrangement of the nuclear accord.”
What was that you just said”
He continued with the thread.
“the inspirational and endless table talk of the North Korean faction is out of their minds”
What was that you just said.”
Between you and me
I completely agree
As preposterous as that can be
Let’s call an ace an ace
And get out of the race
No argument from me
I completely agree.
Encouraged he continued.
“Yeah, well the weekly fourth coming and regular meeting of the extraordinary bicentennial convenes.”
You don’t say
They’ll likely have it their way.
But, I don’t quite understand.
Do you think you could elaborate on the plan?
“The unemployment rate is up and production is down, but we're about to turn everything around.”
Is that what you mean?
He continued to be explainful.
But it was so painful
That I tuned him out
Losing my cool
And began to shout.
Say what the ****
What does it all mean.
I began to scream
Nothing, nothing at all
You said it so well
That no one could tell
What more do you need
It was pretty indeed
And you said it so well.
That no one could tell.
We all want to live a happy and peaceful life but life is full of uncertainty. We always want things to happen as to how we design it but for some reason, an unexplainable force is trying to meddle causing us to sometimes detour. We all live an enigmatic life, enthralling and at times, frustrating.
Like most ordinary people, I want to be happy too but I don't take full control over it. I've once read a quote from one of the coffee shops. They posted this on the wall saying, 'We're all given a paddle to propel and steer". But, the question is for how long should I be holding that paddle for me to stay on track. I am hurting and will always be. If there's someone up there who'd be able to grant my heart's wish, please hear me. All of my wishes failed, but I ask God to grant me HAPPINESS.
To all of the people along the way who hurt me, lied to me, betrayed me and broke my heart. DON'T WORRY, I don't hate you at all. In fact, I am always thankful that we crossed paths because you helped me to become a better person.
I want to be wild, beautiful and free just like the ocean.
Can Christianity, be considered, to
be an enigmatic Faith? Doesn’t one’s
thoughts regarding obscurity, relate
directly to one’s lack of personal
understanding? How can a true view
be obtained, without studying… The
Word? Having Christ as one’s Light
of Faith, real living develops with
transparency; when His contentment
and peace resides in one’s heart, a
gentle atmosphere forms and soothes
within the soul, reaffirming Faith.
John 8:12, 12:46; Isa 42:6
Learn more about me and my poetry at: amazon (dot) com
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2018, All rights reserved.
Honesty, my friend used to say,
Needs to be pushed,
Dishonesty pushes you,
While his words were handsome,
As much as he,
I dared to reject it,
Though it was in my head already
The sink never fills,
For each rejected drop runs away
Like honesty place at bay
By people, who once were humored in life,
And you helped,
Now they are dishonest,
They are to you,
Cannines you treated, that bit
But you to them,
Are a beautiful cause to life
And a product of their art of dishonesty
A poem under the lights of betryal
Teeth Will walk,
Words Will dance.
Tongue's whip lash
Cut's into eye's state;
Why did I fall in love with you?
Our souls couldn’t unite, but still lost in you was I!
You couldn’t be chased away from my dreams,
you couldn’t be sleeping in my arms at night;
still lost in you was I.
With flowers I wooed you every second,
With leaves I chanted your name by minute,
With machines I carved your name,
With knives I killed myself every night;
With envy I even murdered your knight,
With anger I endangered all in blood,
With guns I threatened your being.
My intense enigmatic love broke into pieces by the moonlight, The spear ran through your engraved name.
Words that flowed out my mouth: Sometimes killed my real self for it.
A dandy gentleman contemplates the human condition.
He sits alone in a french coffee shop,
poetry and philisophy his primary mission.
An awkward mind and deep pocketed heart, he bites eagerly into a freshly baked maple syrup ****.
His mustache is striking, as though it has a story of its own
He wears a blue velvet coat filled with notes,
not to mention a lifes work of observations and quotes.
He checks his pocket watch from time to time
As he gathers his thoughts to write the next line.
A hint of tobacco can picked up from his vintage clothing
He's a complicated fellow, enigmatic but soothing.
His top hat well established sits on top of his head
His shoes finley polished black with stripes of red.
A long worn out coat still encapsulates his grace
He has a slight intensity reavaled in his face
For this mans work will never be done
For madness is in his nature, to him this is fun.
I thought of this person as an essentric versoin of moi in the future