It's election day.
Time to change our countries ways.
Let's hope we choose well.

Part three and four

                                                         ­        III

The beauty,
It hides,
For you
In the skies.

What's real?
Is the night,
Just feel,
Don't decide.

What's natural,
It's true.
The shadow,
The moon.

Follow,
You'll find,
The desire
You hide...

One second,
One hour,
The night,
It is ours...

Two lovers, one fire

                                                         ­      IV

The morning,
Finds an open window,
The queen of lost reason,
Alone in the kingdom.

The king,
It is gone.
New conquers,
To come.

The pleasure,
With reason
Written pages,
No rhythm.

The pleasure
It ends,
Alone....
With no king...done.

This is her kingdom.
She stands on top of the world, afraid to look down.
Her crown weighs on her head.

What is the best way to rule?
Whom should she knight?
Can she save her people?

When weapons are drawn and blood is lost,
Will she be able to mend their souls?
When disease drops loved ones to the ground,
Will she be able to nurse their hearts?

Her crown is heavy,
And she is getting weaker.
Worry dwells on her shoulders,

Her mind is cluttered,
Her body is getting worn down.
She cannot sleep with the thought of the possible destruction of her land.
She cannot eat while people in her kingdom are starving.

Her gaze kept out her window.
Her mind wandered, and her body weakened.
While her spirit was living, her body was dying with only good intentions.

You sit on the holy hollow thrown in my body.
Calling for salvation, claiming camaraderie

The internal tick I tend to mend,
sits on my chest, sinks into my irises.

A sip, a snort, a huff whisper safe promises.

You are the thumb I **** singing lullabies to sleeping peace,
the knife I carry down dark streets.

You are the doctor I call when I break my arm,
the scarf I wear in winter storms.

But too,

You are the *** hole in main streets,
and a broken belt in the drivers seat,
the sour milk in my fridge when I make English tea.
You've put salt in my sugar.

You are the feet that fall asleep in a moment of danger.

You are a beautiful thought waiting to unfold on black paper.

You sit on the holy hollow thrown in my body.
Commanding toxic tensions, comforting ill redemptions.

But

The kingdom we live in is drinking resilience,
mind stepping back into its brilliance.

You still sit on the holy thrown in my body.
But I too fight for survival
and you still dable with devils.

But the battles I face are no longer hollow,
and sometimes I miss the comfort of denial.

A king without kingdom, is the one who dwells in his own world
Physically here, psychologically in another plane, he never cares about this land's cult
The only thing he cares, are his dreams and fantasies
Maybe that is why he is called a king, in its own means

A king without kingdom, can't be suppressed or oppressed
For he, doesn't have a land, that can be snatched to make him depressed
He is the true owner of his will, a hero
Who can't be made, to exist with Aryabhatta's zero

The king without kingdom, is not a gardener without flowers
He is that farmer, who always welcome the showers
The one who will join him, will also become a king
Like him, the one, A King Without Kingdom


|AB|

How can mortals completely envision heaven?
Exploring the fullness of what we’ll see,
will surely take many human lifetimes,
in order to take in… all things of eternity.

Whatever God has prepared for us -
conceived from infinite possibilities,
the sight of its beauty lies beyond our mental grasp,
whose description, exceeds one’s vocabulary.

What is the secret name reserved for me?
Can one take a swim in the glassy sea?
How large is the throne room of God?
How many angels and cherubs will we see?

Can we exist beyond the third dimension?
Will we be able fly through the universe?
How long will it take me to memorize all Scripture
and the subtle meanings… of each and every verse?

How many new colors, will we experience
that shine within Jehovah’s heavenly dome?
How much gold will stick to my feet,
from walking around my eternal, new home?

What are the capabilities of our immortal bodies?
How much knowledge, from our lives, will we retain?
What will my first feelings and thoughts be,
when standing before… the Lamb who was slain?

Great are the rewards of Kingdom living.
Among the redeemed, no one is viewed the fool;
His great family will be overcome with joy,
knowing that everyone submitted… to His Sovereign rule.



Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
1 Cor 2:9; Rom 14:17-18

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

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2011, All rights reserved.

The well I dive in is shallow and dark
And I seem to get nowhere after I embarked
So I drink the ink and fill in the blank
Pouring up from the bottom of the well
The bricks they made were corroding bells
And a tale of prejudice they always tell
Oh, how they depict the pain and gain
We get after being silently ******
And while diving in well I do then reign
Your kingdom of loathe of poem and darts
Causing chaos upon writing the lost hearts out
Corrupt the walls by eating your heart out
Drown, drown, deep down in my black romance
Of the kingdom within never laid to rest
Where I can write as I please and tell as I please
And set fire to the war you flickered in peace