The non peril writer,magnificent illustrator,
dexterous editor,all in one of the book of life,
each one, each page,each edition looks and reads
different, yet one in essence, though flavors vary.
We hear  you speak every tongue,Latin, Arabic, Hebrew
and in sonorous Sanskrit,you make us chant"Earth is one nest"
Such profuse creativity  baffles one and all, ever
is your prime possession;  manifestation as well!
The nebulous one, present in each cell,each neuron,
well,  everything ever appeared,anywhere in cosmos,
we attempt to know you in myriad means, give you names
that pleases us, we try to possess you in ways even mean.
We hallucinate our cameras of mind, captures  you right
with the eyes of science; you still prove to be like music.
In our limited resources allotted by neuron collectives,
we make you sit on the throne, of the architect of cosmos,
that evolves and emerge,and itself erases when time is ripe.
The artistic painter of emotions, that has been baffling,
the mix of color happens without any  guide book.
sans blue print of any kind or elaborate plan to execute.
You have no designated place to live, in spite of our wishes
you are omnipresent , the string, player as well as  music,
your thought work we all are, weaved in to one from
strands of of ancient  DNA things preserved,through ages!
Oh! the one that's beyond the realms of winning /losing
the subtlest of all the sublime that in every heartbeats chant,
love to be a work of art that  pleases you, in me present,
Help me from within, in my dissolution as colors,varied
be the painter too and to become that work of art pleases you.

Poetic T Mar 4

For a flower may open late
      but will always pleasure
                the right bee...

being a virgin isn't wrong, but when they find the right lady well bee and honey....

What is it that makes me bleed profusely?
I search for this plank in my eye... sawdust?
Like the grains of sand and gravel, subtly,
We then subconsciously blink to adjust,
Avoiding an unfortunate sully.

Blood had spewed everywhere as if a splash!
Blinded and beneath waves of sultriness,
Boiling and cauterizing subtle wounds,
This juxtaposition of subtle pain.

Pain has always been subtle, always has.
Like the way your glasses broke into shards.
I have always known these fragments of glass.
Never blood, sand, gravel, sawdust, a plank.
But your subtle beautiful concussion.

A sonnet of how subtle one can be as they creep around your head and your heart. Enamored by their pain, you seek to comfort them with you yourself dying in agony.
M L Soo Nov 2016

Again, they have bloomed
bringing sudden doom
the flowers began to sprout
i-t'was the black ink
which spoiled the drink
that brought the flora about
wispy and wavy
the roots grew so veiny
and pretended to be so tame
Similar to another
more sinister flower
we gave this one a new name
We called it Off-White
because it just wasn't quite
as offensive behind our eyes
and later that night
as they suffered, in fright
our neighbors began to die
What had begun
right before the sun
was the flowers took shape and form
They began to change
into an old vein
of flower we had abhorred
But it was too late
the flowers, with haste
selected their victims at last
and in the morning
right after our yawning,
we still hadn't learned from our past

With divine insight, subtle maneuvers
of Faith can guide us… on a daily basis;
God’s promises and principles keep us…
safely grounded in His spiritual oasis.

God’s challenge to us is… to trust Him;
His Son paid the heavy cost of Salvation,
whereby all of Mankind may have inclusion
as a family member… of an eternal Nation.

Author notes

Inspired by:
Psa 91; Eccl 9; Heb 11:6; John 3:16  and

Franz Kafka, frustrated with his living quarters
and day job, wrote in a letter to Felice Bauer in
1912, “Time is short, my strength is limited, the
office is a horror, the apartment is noisy, and if
a pleasant, straightforward life is not possible,
then one must try to wriggle through by subtle

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
amazon (dot) com

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

* * *

Yantary night falls
On Earth ~Soil~ Golden from slumber~
Wakes up ancient stars

* * * *

E t h e r e a l
Divine Dao May 2016

The cloud that    arises
A luminous

By You
Presence   of     Awareness



Map  to  Metatron
Map­   to      Sandalfon


Angel  of        Love

zody rose wang Apr 2016

we're sitting timidly across from each other,
the lights dimmed,
the energy lamenting.
i have nothing to say,
but i have so much love to give.
show me your velvet lust,
let me pour my silky sentiment all over you.
i'm waiting patiently,
for the appearance of total bliss,
but this attraction seems endless, baby,
like a vessel to the night sky.

Tom Fawley Apr 2016

From that quiet place,
Take time and replay to save face,
Process the dead weight,
Push through the dark age,
Until slithers of light break
Through burnt edges
Of that pictured frame

But you're awake,
The colours of the world
Start to fill in,
You were daydreaming again,
How long for now?
Let's say a minute,

We can all pretend

Divine Dao Mar 2016


When you think
About loving me
The sweetest
To burn
My inner core
Pulsating refrain


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