Who are we, to doubt The Word
of our God? Didn’t He measure
out the Earth’s waters, within
the palm of His hand? Didn’t
He assess the eternal vastness
of Heaven? Didn’t He calculate
the amount of dust, set aside
for Mankind? Are we stirred…
by the beauty of our planet?
Didn’t He tell us, that Heaven
is His home or that the Earth
is His footstool? Didn’t He
give us a glimpse of His realm?
Didn’t He weigh the mountains
and offset them with valleys,
hills, and ravines? Do we get
the idea, that we’re to look up?
Isa 40:12, 42:5, 66:1; Psa 19:1;
Col 1:16-17; Jer 10:12
Learn more about me and my poetry at the book section of Amazon (dot) com.
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2018, All rights reserved.
I've had some thought of writing about love in measured dozes
and how it could be applied in daily life for therapeutic poses,
where love is generated in certain amounts and directed to one
for them to use it for recovery purposes once they have begun.
It wouldn't matter at all what the ailment or condition might be
the love generated for such purposes would be used medically,
in the treatment and cure of just about any known life disease
where a patient or those suffering received right love to please.
We could debate and argue about the implications and scope
of what this would mean for one who didn't have much hope
of ever getting better or to living life without further distress
once they would come under the regimen called love's caress.
Take for example someone accustomed in life only to hate
and how love would turn things around for them to abate
those feelings toward their fellow human beings that stave
or so impede any beneficial relationship they might crave.
Even a genuine simple smile or a random act of kindness
would go a long way or could be used in such a boldness
to make an initial impression on one who was so in need
or show them that love was what they're missing indeed.
So then, a look, a wink or even a gentle loving touch
could also be employed with a positive effect as such
like the unconditional love in life of a caring mother
towards her children suffering in one way or another.
The wisdom of love applied in such ways wouldn't ever be
found to be wasted or seen to have anything unnecessary
that could do harm to anyone receiving a treatment of love
as the real source of it we know comes from heaven above.
Written early in 2018.
I forgot what BTW stands for . . .
. . . between the wines ?
Oh yeah ! . . . by the way !
Too much of yesterdays
and hangover today
Oh yes enough to **** a teenager
Once you start questioning your poetry
you'll be listening to teenagers ,
"You are not using rhyme !"
"Your muse is a dummy ."
You don't write poetry . . . your muse does
Your just the leaky pen
Or in my case the timid typist
First mistake :
Listening to other people
tell you how to write
Second mistake :
Who in the world cares if your poetry
is good or bad . . . that is not
the point anyway
You don't write to please the Queen
You write to no one out there
who might be listening
You write to the shadows
You write to the physical ghosts
that never existed
It is not your purpose to write
anything that pleases anyone else
Yes is best
Just write and write to your hearts delight
Poetry is measured by years
not by the poem . . . bye now
— The End —