"mordecai" poems
Many have heard that “No man is an island.”
And over most circumstances, no one has control.
So I ask you… “Have you found purpose for your life?”
“With your identity, are you fulfilling your role?”
Escape the snare of delusional grandeur,
for God Almighty has an assignment for you.
Are you prepared with your life skills
and has your Kingdom mission come into view?
Previous individuals came to you (before me)
and broke the fallow ground of your heart.
Has the message of Salvation burst within you?
Are you wanting to serve, but have not started?
Has the “sown seed” inside you… been watered?
Are you on the verge of a spiritual epiphany?
Do you require wisdom, guidance or experience?
Can you determine, why you’re unable to see?
The grittiness of human interaction serves us
as “sandpaper of life”, softening one’s spirit.
We’re to learn from each other, apply God’s Word
and strive to live life… without earthly limits.
Having vested interests in others
helps us to sincerely love one another;
walking in Godly unions and relationships,
bonds us as Christian sisters and brothers.
Remember the complete story of Queen Esther,
whose success was possible by efforts of Mordecai.
Become involved in the ministry of destiny helpers…
For Christ promised to meet our needs against His Supply.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
1 Cor 3:1-10; Esther
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 10:59 AM UTC
A farmer named Mordecai Brown
Took his 3-legged dog into town
The dog could do many tricks,
Like fetching thrown sticks,
But when he tried to shake hands, he fell down.
Then the dog learned to walk on two feet
Now when both of them walk down the street
The dog dances around
All over the town
And shakes hands with who ever he meets!!
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
It’s good to be hated! But I know my name…
hate, blackened, misshapen, ugly, unnatural,
yet
how it clarifies the mind, like a cupped hand
carrying clear, cold, brook water to dry mouth,
to shock, enliven, resets resets, all your priorities
with alacrity, a word I prefer cause it is an intuitive
combo of eagerness + alarm, suddenly much of the
trivial is no longer worthy of your ‘to do’ list,
you, without thinking, DNA filter your filters,
those screens that digest, then reject & reflect
the inputs ongoings around you, and you are now
reclassified! by the hate surrounding, it declassifies
the time wastrels, reinterpreting most everything
on a bipolar scale of 1 or 10, there are no shades,
the middle ground of gray be fully eliminated,
just like those who wish to
eliminate
me.
in a palette of black or white, your
e +e,
(essence and existence) cannot be ever
a gray area, yes, of course, the sunshine
is yellow bright, and the grass is spring
flushed green, the multicolored daffodils
newly define colors varietal, and the waves
of the Sound, roll relentlessly, but hate can be
coated, camouflaged and subtle disguised, but
we know, oh how we know, and how we wanted
to ***forget, our “sins”, our original liabilities of
our multi colored skins, our religion, our race & ethnicity,***
but NOT our names!
the Rabbis tell us that God nearly did not keep
his promise to Abraham, to rescue his progeny
from slavery in Egypt but saved them only because:
‘On account of four things Israel was redeemed
from Egypt: they did not change their names, they
did not change their language, they did not speak
slander and not even one of them was found to be
promiscuous.’^
I know my name; and though you cannot distinguish
me by dress, know not my moral life, but now you
know my name,
given to me by my parents, in the language of my ancestors:
Mordecai Netanel ben (son of) Eliyahu Chaim
Per my family lore, as told to me by my parents, our
family fled from Spain because of the Inquisition (1478),
settled in a small town in Germany on the banks
of the river Lippe; and from the shtetls of Poland,
and those who survived or avoided the Holocaust
ultimately left Europe, came here, to the land of
the free, the United States of America with names,
in their language, with memories intact.
I will not flee this country,
for I know my true name,
inscribed in my pores, in my
DNA
<>
(but should I have to…there is a sanctuary.)
May 2 2024
May 2, 2024
May 2, 2024 at 9:24 PM UTC
Simplified to a piece of meat with a spine,
Labeled the byproduct of life,
My molecular structure is nothing but a virus,
So pious, others think they understand me,
When they are also mirroring this miniscule existence,
Not just a beating heart and forgetful mind,
I’ve got time to dissect you, with my own ideology,
Lacking benevolence,
Unable to see a difference between humanity and vengeance,
Bluntly put we are the manifest of an infest
Economically choking the impoverished,
Politically petrifying reality,
Socially suffocating society like an infant in her crib,
You’ve diminished the privilege of innocence,
And believe body counts bring pride,
No matter what you think is best,
You are an earthly pest,
Consuming everything,
And never leaving anything for the rest,
It’s time to take our test.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 2:11 PM UTC
If I were a writer
I’d actively seek
A mild patina
A mad mystique
I’d write about death
As something good
I’d sign my name
Edgar Allen Atwood
If I were a writer
There’d be Tom and Huck
A great big world
That didn’t give a ****
Bout the little guy
Floating down the main
And I’d call myself
Charley Dickens Twain
If I was a writer
I’d have a golden plume
I’d write about
That day of doom
I’d write about
Laughing at fear
And I’d call myself
Mordecai Shakespeare
If I was a writer
And I had a page
I’d write about
The good old days
‘Bout what I’d ‘ve done
On a day with you
And I’d sign my name
And I’d sign yours too
Aug 3, 2011
Aug 3, 2011 at 7:51 PM UTC
a glass tripod menagerie
set inconspicuously against
the room's only blue wall:
i reached out to touch
the carnival mirror in the east,
splintering its unbaked ceramic surface,
raining shards of pseudo-sunlight
across my back, in my eyes,
in my side betwixt my ribs;
(scene shift)
lying among the poppies of
my younger years, collecting their dew;
i was fed pungent sage cakes
baked by a strange man
named Mordecai, who rants about
gardening techniques, espousing
the spiritual value of tearing
the treacherous heart out while
it still beats, as he prepares
more cakes for the remaining guests;
(scene shift)
in the bleachers, watching old friends
watch a beautiful female athlete
play raquetball with my treacherous
rubber heart, silently glad
that at least she had not
eaten my oatmeal or broken
my fingers off with a car door;
the roar of the cheering crowd
made my ears ring out loud
vertigo gripping hollow chest aching
AWAKE!
bolted upright, clawing in search of the wound, gaspingfranticdiscombobulatedandsuddenly...
calm...
the memory of my eaten heart,
and the look in your eyes
when you did it.
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 7:18 PM UTC
Policies defined by the police, homosexuality, corruption by employees. Abuse of the pharmacy - Mom comes from ****** and demons of Azaz. This is the city that the dogs of Moab **** and the land; The accessories are security tools for terrorism. Homosexuality, to the doctor's particular conviction. After the outbreak of the Alhambra. The symptoms of the disease are established and paralysis begins. There are also changes in the city. Female mafia and other ****** Backup copies are protected. Such homosexuality, security device. Emergency options, algebra licenses, favorite editions, Moab city records. Local configurations to protect these devices. The dangers of homosexuality are important. Military circles won: after the wars. In the environment, cancel it. Other Country Country Country Morcha ***** and countries Country Suspicious patterns. Police, employees, prostitutes, merchants, depression, night, the devil says that wine is a city; Average gay, prostitution, prostitution and country. More security improvements. The police of this device protected the fear of homosexuality, the weakness of the faith; hospitals; The post-traumatic problems of the destruction of the devil by the Algerians. Positive changes in the cities ****** and visitors. Young mafia couple. ******* and country The police stopped to ask questions about the police. The danger of decadence, homosexuality, depends on the disease; Common drugs Post-traumatic and air-conditioned problems. Algebra, the evolution of the ********** friends and repairs; Mafia area. Country of prostitution and ****** Additional benefits for the police, homosexuality, veterans protection. Impact drugs after the alsemeera. Satanism after the event. Change of disabled and rebuilt city. Fornicadoresputo and adulterers; The police killed the police, more security. these drugs, corruption, psychology; Alzeihmer is a problem of post-traumatic Satanism. Gypsy Depression The intriguing private attraction that attracts gypsies is like two blind gypsy guards who seek the best possible entertainment in the future. The foundations of the mafia, other police and security forces. Applications, terrorism, homosexuality, faith. Hospitals after his death,
The Alhambra had withdrawn from the brothers.
Prostitution and violence have changed.
Who and the changes in the city. queen
of the Mafia, health and the land; Next device.
Police wish these catastrophic, catastrophic
protections, Homosexuality, security. ************
Emergency situations, algebra, change.
Pants and communication of municipal
books. Tips - The spaces of prostitution.
****** and Moabitas in the front coverage
For diseases and the guards of prostitutes.
So Danger the dangers of homosexuality.
they are motivated by corruption; The illness
Hospital, parasites, other directed products.
Employment Women and the gods.
of Mordecai. For the moment, we propose.
The next source. Of services, homosexuality,
Due to corruption to the harmful effects
of Come. Of the ****** of Azaz and the
demons. This is the city where Moab
is located. Love with the ground and other
policemen are lost. Improvements, security
tools for homosexuality. Of the terrorists,
a condemnation especially to the doctor.
After the beginning of the Alhambra the
relationship between the rooster ***** and
paralysis. Start With changes in the city.
Mafia female and other copy. The security zones
are protected Such A device of the security
of homosexuality. Emergency license options,
algebraic acceptance. The change that is changing
in the city - Moab. It is cut for the protection
of these devices. The dangers of homosexuality
They are important. The victories won:
after the effects Environmental drinks, revoke.
Another city of Morcha and his suspicious
Country Blood, ****** Cars, and more.
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
It's exactly one year
Since you left
This tiring cold earth
Your death
Gave birth to something deep
A wound, now a scar
I watch and feel everynight
A stubborn scar
That deepens with time
Instead of fading
Today this time
I was in a bus
Coming to your funeral
Disappointed like a dog without a bone
And an actor without a home
It's exactly 366 days since your death
Mordecai Amos Suga Masimbira
Died at nineteen before he grabbed
What he was working for
The Nobel piece prize in physics and chemistry
Even in your death
You're unconquered
And I will make you famous
Because you were denied
A long life
Which you deserved
Because to all you were perfect.
A perfect beacon of light
Through the family's dark night.
Words will never cover your void
And only when we meet again will I rejoice.
You live in my dreams
In my art
And in my heart
Which is still moaning like a dove
Solely standing on a thorny branch
Weeping sorely
With burning hope and love
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
When I Was Fourteen
I took a walk around the world
When I was fourteen.
A round-trip from the country
Of Florida to the province of
Friendship.
I broke out my camp gear on
The way to the sea of desire
And edged my way to the point
Of view.
When I was fourteen
I took gym class and failed
Showers.
The water lapped at my body,
Its steamy blows pelting my
Boyhood.
The jocks jeered at me ‘cause
I cried in shop class a lot
When I was fourteen.
The girls wore saddle shoes
With bobby sox and they
Liked me seeing as I could
Dance the jitterbug.
I loved the beat, the jiggling
Of my legs against my pants
And I learned to cope with
My feelings of trackless taunts.
I starred in a one-act play but
Forgot my lines
When I was fourteen.
I had a dream in the province
Of friendship that there was
A boy called little prince
Who nourished a rose.
Prince taught me that I would
Only see clearly with my heart
When I was fourteen.
A new boy came to school one
day and sat next to me at chorus
practice.
He gazed at me, his eyelashes
and lips detailed in copper, head
tipped back as though in trance
and pulled off his t-shirt.
I am here today because he was
There, nourishing me like prince’s
Rose, but with courage.
When I was fourteen
I met the gymnast of love, his
Daring glance, his feather touch,
Defiant, preaching counterpoint.
I tried to run away but his name
Kept Calling me back, like a
Birdsong: “Phillip,” it whispered,
“My name is Phillip.”
And I went to him, to his glance,
To his smile, to his arms, and
He sang to me, this boy named
Phillip:
“I know you, my little prince,
You are a wee patch of blue,
My Mordecai, my Bashar, my
Ivan, my Carlos, branches of
The same tree, so serious at
Fourteen.”
Soon another dream came over
Me, I dozed, drowsy and snug
In the arms of an unknown hero,
And I was wrapped in a frosted
Halo, when I was fourteen.
My halo was a gift from Phillip,
And it dripped so silently down
On the closet, on fire, holding
The me that I now behold in
The mirror.
I saw the shower and stood up
Proud, I saw the stage and
Remembered my lines, and
I was proud. I was the rose,
Nourished. And I was proud.
I danced and dreamed and was
Filled with courage, my chest
Popping with buttons, my head
Filled with melody and my
Shoes tapping in rhythm.
Today we went home to see
My mom, Phillip and I, and
She put her arms around us
And said “Welcome, boys,
I love you!”
When I was fourteen.
© Lewis Bosworth, 2014
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC
King Ahasuerus desires a mate
'One chooses Esther one thinks she's first rate.'
Later he's soppy and showers her with kisses
Then honours his promise and makes her his missis.
Haman gets an earful ; the King's in a strop.
'You're history you hear us. You're for the big chop.'
'Oi, Haman, I'll miss you
Just Like a used tissue!'
Mordecai's very cheerful
Though once he was fearful
'Oy vey, I'm relieved
The Jews are reprieved'
Jeer and boo with a passion
Nibble hamantashen
(Poppyseeds are the filler)
That's the gansa megillah
Miriam Troth 2016
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 7:06 AM UTC
how I know we will make love someday / primal2
whatever you think of overwhelming distance,
thick black lined international boundaries,
no Westerly wind, snow binding, winter blinding, can forbid
the innate desired connectivity, the eye locking messaging,
the shared shards of losses cumulative, that we alone can relieve/repair
I will travel by jetliner, car, to unpack you from snowdrifts,
write quatrains upon your eyes, elegies on your lips,
epic poems using every body space possess-able, asking for nothing
in return, for living is hard enough, no need for quid pro quo bargaining
do not ask what am I to you, resist classification, place me not,
no slot, no rowed field, under closed eyes remember, recall,
better the butter of love and loss, which I’ll take and also leave,
summer spreads and relishes kitchen canned for next year’s winter
did you know, of course not, my name is Mordecai,^ the same who,
was Vizier to Darius and Xerxes I, meaning pure myrrh and
master of languages, but this is not the time/place, my secrets two,
to give away, and yet forbear, you may ask questions that no sensible human answers**
honestly
but I have, and will do so again, against all odds, we will
compose original numbers, all prime, all natural occurring,
divisible, yes, but only by the number itself and the number 1,
1,
a number that answers:
the equation, the prime ideal,
why only 1 + 1 equals:
primal 2
~
it takes one to create two
Jan 27, 2020
Jan 27, 2020 at 9:34 PM UTC
I'd be your Margaret if you let me.
the sound of your voice has me wanting
you so much closer,
but you hold her
in a way you'd never hold me.
but I'm hoping.
sweaty hands and forced laughter
isn't exactly what I'm after,
but if you're in, I'm in.
despite my thin skin
I am willing to be open.
would you listen?
I put this dress on because I knew you'd be here,
I spent two hours in the mirror
but it takes you
less than two seconds
to look past me.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 1:24 PM UTC
What looked like a lookalike
actually looked nothing like me.
I found an English station
in a sea of wavelengths
and tuned in.
ah,
comfort is the spoken word
when
speaking of tectonic plates
saturated fats and monosodium glutamates
and beggars cannot appear to
be choosers so I settled myself down
on the wooden chair and ran through
several stations
waiting for the morning there.
I was still thinking about the lookalike
like I had nothing else to do?
and why was I with the keenest eye
almost fooled?
It's about the choices and paths that we take,
dawn
is the perfect time to make comparisons
but
not the time for regrets.
I found coffee,
it's possibly pirated
arr..
..and now I'm set for what this day brings.
Later
although not measured by a yardstick
I
picked grapes with Jose for red wine and
rosé
nothing's ever that bad except in the dark.
And later still
in town for a fiesta
oranges and octopi
drinking
concoctions made by
someone called
Mordecai as unlikely as
that sounds.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
#Mordecai (hallowed gatekeeper)
triumphs over Haman (gallowed hate-keeper)
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 5:22 PM UTC