I look at the dismay
of my so called day
When everything seems
to be falling apart
I find myself collecting the sum
of my parts
Putting myself back together again .

With a grin !

Here I am dieting again!
Is chocolate such a sin?
I graze all day on chlorophyll,
Eating salads, I feel like a dill,
How is the serenity?
It's only five-thirty,
Really having a swell time here,
What else can I eat, my dears?

je n'ai pas une femme
mais je n'ai pas une cigarette

j'ai l'histoire pour le manque extraordinaire
mais je n'ai pas une cigarette

j'ai vive sans un moment placide
sans le sang de les innocents
mais je n'ai pas une cigarette

je n'ai pas une femme
et je n'ai pas une cigarette

A double-minded person is unstable in his ways,
caught between opposing opinions of indecision;
he is easily tossed about on the oceanic swells,
forgetting that Christ provides the provision

of calming the violent seas of personal storms.
For He alone possesses the sacred, eternal wisdom
that enables us to divinely live lives of victory,
as we “stand in the gap” on behalf of His Kingdom.

We can’t expect to survive- this cold world alone;
each day we’re dependent on God’s fair supervision;
He will make sure that our boat is afloat, protecting
us from all danger, twists, incidents and collisions.

He’ll purpose to keep us covered with perfect peace;
we’ll remain in one accord with no personal rescission.
All nonsensical misery and strife will promptly cease;
He’ll keep providing us guidance, love and provision.
.
.
.
Author Notes

Inspired by:
Jam 1:6-8; Luke 12:24; Psa 84:11

This a collaboration with Pat H. (from GS Poetry).

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
    
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.

I can't sleep
What is it to sleep
When the only thing I see when I have my eyes closed
Is you
Your face
Your hair
Oh *******
I am so mad at you and yet I feel nothing
I don't know how I feel about you
About us
Is there even an us?
It was always you
Always

fortunate dreams, folded within security and affluence
a laundry pile of capital
you’ve tried and succeeded
prosperity, wealth, Constitutional rights in abundance
American dreams lay thriving, slithering between your fingers like sludge
nice sludge though
snow crystals rest upon the sludge, decorating it for the holidays

barren attempts to take hold of opportunities, you didn’t really try
efforts lay unmade, like the bed he shared with you
penniless
inferior in the corner of the kitchen
last night’s events crawling across the tile towards you
running over stains and chips, creating unshaped perfect squares
a city on fire; flames stumbling in the breezes