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"psa" poems
some people think its gross some think your being a ***** but i think it is a wonderful thing when done in the right mannor when you feel so good about yourself you want to show your body off then that is wonderful for most people i know including myself, for a while would never have dreamt of doing so so i say flaunt what your mama made! be proud and state it loud! but do not do it just to get attention from that guy you like or your girlfriend "do it because you think wow, my tummy is adorable my face looks great my pecks are on point today or even my chest look so cute" because thats what self love is and its a wonderful thing
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
A PSA To Self Confidence
Planted by the river of Living Waters, I remain rooted and grounded in Christ; He provides for my thirst, my hunger, my Salvation and my everlasting Life. With the foundation of Biblical Truth, I’m rooted and grounded in the Holy Word; the application of its principles gives my heart hope with peace that’s assured. When walking in holiness and rectitude, I stay rooted and grounded in God’s love; His Essence softly embraces me with grace, as new mercies stream… from Heaven above. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Prov 12:3; 2 Sam 22:2-3, 47; Psa 1:3; Rom 3:22; Lam 3:22-23 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 2:11 AM UTC
Poem: Rooted and Grounded
Don’t be fooled regarding one’s tongue, for it has the power of life and death. Before doubting these words of wisdom, now pay attention and catch your breath… before any more idle words touch the ground. We are accountable for everything we say; Therefore, remember to think before speaking, since our reckonings will come on Judgment Day. Consciously refrain from speaking evil curses, knowing that God’s presence surrounds each soul. Undisciplined tongues unwittingly spew their venom and cause unseen damage with poisonous control. A perverse tongue easily breaks the human spirit and keeps evil, generational curses flowing. Plentiful sins roll off the tongue in the forms of: Gossiping, Tattle-telling, Slander, Lying and Boasting. Instead, give praise concerning the good things of God; speak life into situations, since healing can be attained. the reliability of The Word can be assured, for… its promises insure that ours lives can be sustained. Author Notes: Loosely based on: Prov 18:21; 1 Cor 4:20; Deu 32:47; 2 Pet 2:3; 1 Sam 3:19; Psa 12:6 Lev 19:16; Mark 4:14; Prov 15:4, 21:23; Jam 3:1-18; 2 Cor 5:10 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
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May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 8:57 AM UTC
Poem: Power of the Tongue
O My Lord, greatly blessed are You! I’m thankful and trying to express the growing gratitude within my soul; however, mere words lack the finesse to exalt Your full grandeur… properly! You are my sun and protective shield! Let your righteousness flood my soul; unto You alone, will my spirit yield. Don’t let my ignorance and sad sighing imply a lack of personal satisfaction; I’m joyful and pleased from accepting- Your Son’s, eternal gift of Salvation! I’m humbled by Your grace and power; Your wisdom defeats the inner violence that seeks to isolate me from You; quiet my thoughts with divine silence, as I focus on our ongoing relationship. Permit The Holy Spirit to blow over me with a portion of Your sacred essence; reveal the blessings that You foresee, regarding my humbled heart and life; make me sensitive to Your touch and will; teach me to be productive with my time; allow Your purpose for me- be fulfilled. . . . Author Notes Inspired by: Phil 4:6; Psa 34, 84:10-12; 1 Thes 5:18 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
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Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
Poem: My Heartfelt Benediction
daughters need hugs Or they’ll grow up To love thugs!
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Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
PSA for all Mothers (10 W)
"When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?" - Psa 56:3-5 (ESV) #071716
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Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
In God I Trust
What are we really looking to receive? Is it: Money, Fame, Success, or Promotion? Secret lusts of the heart create problems; are we willing to risk, His Salvation? Living to get things will never satisfy; without proper priorities and pursuits, righteousness, peace and joy isn’t obtained. Knowing your identity in Him, His fruit, mercy and grace becomes obviously evident. Seeking His face will insure that His hand   remains open towards those desiring Him. However, are we doing what He had planned? Are we delighting ourselves in Him alone? Are the goals of God, something we discuss? He always should be the King of our Life and the Kingdom that is… inside each of us. . . . Author Notes Inspired by: Rom 14:17; Psa 37:4,145:16 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ    By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
Poem: The Kingdom of God
O Lord, please let Your Light shine, -in and through me- hot and brightly; my Life is Yours and I don’t mind following Your divine directives; with The Word, I hope to wick away Wisdom for a disciplined perspective. I’ve embraced the idea of transparency, where my lifestyle is straight, tapered and upright- with genuine integrity. Disperse the World’s ongoing darkness, that seeks to envelop my existence, with a vibrant flame of Your holiness. With Your assistance, I will handle any and everything that comes my way, while I’m blazing… as a human candle. . . . Author Notes Inspired by: Psa 18:28; 1 John 1:5-7; Prov 20:27 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
Poem: Human Candle
I get Grumpy. That is to say, I understand the dwarf. Not that I don't get grumpy. That is to say, Become irritable. In fact that is what we have in common, Grumpy and I. We both become irritable. Except it's not that we are grumpy, Grumpy and I. Not really. Grumpy and I are sick. But people don't realize it, Because it is not in the Sneezy kind of way. Depression makes people, And at least 1 in 7 dwarves, Become irritable. We get grumpy about ***** things, Yell at our families, Then get mad at ourselves for being grumpy. There are other symptoms too, Like being sleepy or sad. But irritability is often overlooked. What Grumpy and I really need, But we're too Bashful to say so, Is to see a Doc. Because all any of us want, Grumpy or not, Is to be Happy.
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Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 3:37 AM UTC
Depression PSA
“Here’s your morning PSA, Laced with saccharine and anaesthetic, Unfortunately the missiles are on their way, So leave the sick and try not to panic, Ignore the hysteria, and those calling your name, Avert your eyes as the world sets aflame, We apologise for keeping this from you, Secret for all of these years, But please keep in mind, though we’ll aim for your rescue, Death is the least of your fears This will be our last transition, I’m afraid the president must catch his flight, You may wait to hear from us but until then, Goodbye, goodluck and goodnight.” We were the PVC plastic barbie dolls, Waiting to be burned alive, Unlucky enough to live, We woke up to an absence of we, No Nevada left to test in, So I’m a model mannequin, Melt me down, Tick-Tick-Tick, The light was white and empty, Tick-Tick-Tick, My madness steeped in silence Tick-Tick-Tickety, Geiger is telling me to run, Tickety-Tickety-Tickety, But it’s no use now, I threw up on Monday, Tuesday, I choke back fallout, Ignore the bubbles when it hits my skin, On Wednesday, my gums blink bright red, Thursday I know I am all alone because the wind has ceased to blow, And Friday I realise I am not, They came with rubber masks, Silicone, Respirators and coils of filters, We both had big black eyes, But neither of us saw people reflected in them, I counted three, Alpha, Beta, Gamma, One smiles by exhaling clean air, Reaches out a hand across the barren wasteland, Fingers tipped with lead and tells me: “There’s a prize for the last standing.” I am not ionised, So I bruise every time they touch me, These guides through plagues of acid rain, The graveyard of monuments stripped bare by a world of rot, My hair falls out as I breathe dead air, I don’t remember what PSA stands for, I don’t remember my name, I bleed sand and the echo of a failed civilisation, But with heavy breathing and a muffled voice, Gas masks filtering what used to keep me alive, I wonder if there is anything behind those masks at all, I know there is nothing behind mine, None of us are human anymore, And we haven’t been for quite some time, Together, we watch the sky rain black ash.
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Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC
Uranium-235
“Here’s your morning PSA, Laced with saccharine and anaesthetic, Unfortunately the missiles are on their way, So leave the sick and try not to panic, Ignore the hysteria, and those calling your name, Avert your eyes as the world sets aflame, We apologise for keeping this from you, Secret for all of these years, But please keep in mind, though we’ll aim for your rescue, Death is the least of your fears This will be our last transition, I’m afraid the president must catch his flight, You may wait to hear from us but until then, Goodbye, goodluck and goodnight.” We were the PVC plastic barbie dolls, Waiting to be burned alive, Unlucky enough to live, We woke up to an absence of we, No Nevada left to test in, So I’m a model mannequin, Melt me down, Tick-Tick-Tick, The light was white and empty, Tick-Tick-Tick, My madness steeped in silence Tick-Tick-Tickety, Geiger is telling me to run, Tickety-Tickety-Tickety, But it’s no use now, I threw up on Monday, Tuesday, I choke back fallout, Ignore the bubbles when it hits my skin, On Wednesday, my gums blink bright red, Thursday I know I am all alone because the wind has ceased to blow, And Friday I realise I am not, They came with rubber masks, Silicone, Respirators and coils of filters, We both had big black eyes, But neither of us saw people reflected in them, I counted three, Alpha, Beta, Gamma, One smiles by exhaling clean air, Reaches out a hand across the barren wasteland, Fingers tipped with lead and tells me: “There’s a prize for the last standing.” I am not ionised, So I bruise every time they touch me, These guides through plagues of acid rain, The graveyard of monuments stripped bare by a world of rot, My hair falls out as I breathe dead air, I don’t remember what PSA stands for, I don’t remember my name, I bleed sand and the echo of a failed civilisation, But with heavy breathing and a muffled voice, Gas masks filtering what used to keep me alive, I wonder if there is anything behind those masks at all, I know there is nothing behind mine, None of us are human anymore, And we haven’t been for quite some time, Together, we watch the sky rain black ash.
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In these quiet spaces, I become temporarily deaf to the meaningless noises that seek to define me. In these quiet spaces, my soul is nourished; surrounded by silence, my spirit soars upward. In these quiet spaces, my focus turns inward, knowing that His Presence is co-mingled with mine. In these quiet spaces, the renewing of my mind occurs as my life, is… humbled before Him. In these quiet spaces, His divine, sacred wind envelops my frail essence with indescribable peace. In these quiet spaces, consumed by His Presence, I sense undeniable power of God’s authentic Love. . . . Author Notes Inspired by: Matt 6:1,6; Rom 12:1-2; Jam 4:8; Heb 13:15-16; Psa 46:10; Phil 4:7 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
Poem: Quiet Spaces
I know what caught your eye Curved hips, dark hair and small dainty eyes Aren't my eyes really something You've probably never seen them though Too busy looking at my chest I love the way you call me baby Sounds so sweet in your voice The same voice you use on those 20 other girls That's right I know We all do, you're not really that clever Well even if you're stupid at least you're cute That silly smile of yours And muscles for days They really make up for the absolute lack of personality But hey, at least you're a **** empty husk of a man It's so sweet you're always willing to talk Staying up late on the phone Just get's tiresome with you always asking for nudes I wish someone had taught you basic English Maybe then you'd understand the word no
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Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 4:30 PM UTC
PSA: Fuckboys
Hosanna! Hosanna! Salvation is near. Hosanna! Hosanna! Salvation is near. Lift up your voice, come lend your ears; hear the message of Love and joyfully rejoice! Hosanna! Hosanna! Save us, Dear Lord. Hosanna! Hosanna! Save us, Dear Lord. Soften our hearts, teach us Your Word; draw us closer to You; keep us, in one accord! Hosanna! Hosanna! Your mercy is here. Hosanna! Hosanna! Your mercy is here. Erase all fear; cleanse my mindset; Holy Ghost flow in me- continually this year! Author Notes: Loosely based on: Isa 62:11; Matt 21:9; Psa 118:26; Eph 1:13 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
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Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 8:00 AM UTC
Poem: Shout Hosanna!
I said no. I know I said stop. But I haven’t met a guy yet who understood that. Yes and No are not interchangeable And stop never means go. And it’s not her fault for looking like that And it’s not her fault that all he wants is some *** But he won’t stop, and his weight is crushing her He won’t stop and he’s forcing her. The feeling of a man pulling at the back of your hair isn't a great feeling ever after you've been there in her position unable to control any of it Unable to push him off or away because he’s holding your hands with a wild grip and with a force that overpowers every ounce of your strength. After that, the touch of a man will rarely make you swoon or sway. And you won’t understand the feeling of guilt that never quite goes away That feeling that you are weak and worthless because all you could do was pray and take it. Because society has taught her she did something wrong: That she asked for it that she invited it. And maybe she was asking for something, but that sure as hell wasn't it. She didn't ask to be treated like she was worthless. And PSA: no woman is.
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 8:43 PM UTC
PSA
If ya fixin' to start the party in a hurry it's ******* before alcohol! If ya fixin' to stop the party in a hurry it's ******* after alcohol!
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Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Remember, kids! [PSA]
brat i sestra brat: cao sestra: cao brat: gde je tata? sestra: u sobi. brat: sta radi? sestra: ma odkud znam, pusi. brat pravi sendvice. pet sendvica. mleko i keks. malo cipsa sa strane. brat ne zna nista. sestra zna po nesto. brat se obraca psu: pa gde si ti bio ceo dan?jeli malisanu mali, milice jedna, jel si gladan? a sta si radio? hoces napolje? jao pa vidi te sapice, smrdo jedan. ne izvodi psa. brat jede. cuti. brat ide na spavanje, vec je jako kasno. opranih zuba. sestra vec spava. brat otvara vrata sestrine sobe naglo, namerno ili mozda slucajno ali ne i prvi put. gleda u mrak i osluskuje sestrino mumlanje i cangrizanje. cuti. zatvara vrata i odlazi u svoj mrak, prekoputa. jutro je. brat: cao sestra: cao brat: gde je tata?
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
brat i sestra
Anxious flashbacks in the back of your Cadillac, with The window half down to drown out the drones of Mom’s mouth, ten years old and I’m anxious to Fill what I lack, but now I’m dying alone in The back of a stranger’s hatchback and I Wonder, will God let a ****** through The gates? Because Mom said the Chance of a *** getting into That place was as good as a Camel strolling thru the Eye of needle, or Something like That, I don’t Remember Really. I do know that Aunt Ruth said I was a needle in a stack of hay, so I can’t die this way, because God would never make a kid shine Like truth just to burn out in the soft glow of the flame against A spoon, that’s just logic. ‘Cuz God, I tried to tie a thread To my spine and swan dive into the fabric of this Earth, But all I got was a couches’ bruise, a pillow filled with The feathers of a plucked bird with its tongue-tied And words’ lynched, destined to haunt PSA’s and Statistics, now I’m itching for a way to lay Or place to sit to die with a sense of Purpose, so I stretch my arms out With my palms up like Jesus, But the Police will see the Lesions, a haunting Image of celestial Intent, But God Will only see The Marks From The Needle.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
Needle
Life’s obstacles can only delay us from achieving our God-given purpose; instead of becoming frustrated, we should look to Christ and just focus on the underlying issues in prayer. Obstacles may perfect personal traits, like having peace by waiting on Him, so that our hearts are not deflated. They kick up dust, blinding our vision whereby, we must go back to Him again; When our eyes are focused on Christ, He lights our path and lessens our pain. Instead of worrying and becoming anxious, I’ve decided to cast my burdens on Christ, knowing that He earnestly cares for us; employing His principles, no real strife can ever deter us from personal victories. We’re blessed, from persevering our trials; for these too, will eventually leave us, lasting but a short, inconvenient while. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Psa 27:1, 119:2; Isa 41:13; 1 Pet 5:7; Jam 1:12; Prov 3:5-6 and "No matter how big or small the obstacles we face in our spiritual journey, as long as we keep our eyes on the Lord, we will reach our destiny that God has prepared for us beforehand to fulfill in this life, and hence inherit a mighty reward for it in the life to come. Keep your eyes in between the start and end of your faith on Jesus because He is the one who actually starts as the author and also ends as the finisher of your faith, He is able to keep you safe from the drowning of worry and unbelief by His supernatural power to stay afloat to reach your heavenly destination!" —Abraham Israel Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC
Poem: Obstacles in Life
Life’s obstacles can only delay us from achieving our God-given purpose; instead of becoming frustrated, we should look to Christ and just focus on the underlying issues in prayer. Obstacles may perfect personal traits, like having peace by waiting on Him, so that our hearts are not deflated. They kick up dust, blinding our vision whereby, we must go back to Him again; When our eyes are focused on Christ, He lights our path and lessens our pain. Instead of worrying and becoming anxious, I’ve decided to cast my burdens on Christ, knowing that He earnestly cares for us; employing His principles, no real strife can ever deter us from personal victories. We’re blessed, from persevering our trials; for these too, will eventually leave us, lasting but a short, inconvenient while. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Psa 27:1, 119:2; Isa 41:13; 1 Pet 5:7; Jam 1:12; Prov 3:5-6 and "No matter how big or small the obstacles we face in our spiritual journey, as long as we keep our eyes on the Lord, we will reach our destiny that God has prepared for us beforehand to fulfill in this life, and hence inherit a mighty reward for it in the life to come. Keep your eyes in between the start and end of your faith on Jesus because He is the one who actually starts as the author and also ends as the finisher of your faith, He is able to keep you safe from the drowning of worry and unbelief by His supernatural power to stay afloat to reach your heavenly destination!" —Abraham Israel Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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PSA: this is not a good poem, this is an explosion. pacing internal dialogue echoing within my fatty brain, overweight from months of stagnant vegetation. one repetitive sentence feebly attempts to remove the attackers “go away go away go away go away” running linoleum floors squeaking as my slippered feet find their grip, praying that these feet don’t lead me to a kitchen full of knives, hungry to meet the stretch marks striping my newly obese thighs. i’d rather have scars than these purple proofs of my inadequacy the familiar hair-band meets my forearm for the first time in an age, my vegetated brain slowly recognises this pattern from once before and the skills from months of therapy begin to kick in breathe in breathe out falling wondering how on earth i will live for seven more weeks desperate to make my voice heard but stumbling into silence as my head slams the wall and bounces off the floor leaving me stuck in my own harrowing mind, one that is far too tired, lonely and ill to fight for much longer.
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Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
a cry for help upon deaf ears.
There’s no escape, from my pain, trouble and sorrows; yet I’m not concerned about them, for You Lord, await me in tomorrow. There’s no escape, for You my Lord, are everywhere, knowing Your omnipresent trait; with You, my life, I gladly share. There’s no escape, for You have searched the depths of my being, soul, existence and my inward, spiritual breadth. There’s no escape, for You can see me in the darkness, as though I was in sunny daylight; keep me far from evil wickedness. There’s no escape and I have no desire to flee; wherever I go, You’re there; so I could never be… an escapee. . . . Author Note Inspired by: Psa 139 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
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May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC
Poem: No Escape
Remember, you might think that everyone hates you, but that's not true. There will always be someone who needs you. (and if you don't think there is anyone, there's always me.)
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Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC
PSA: You, yes you
My older sister told me that the first rule of life is self preservation- And I am learning that. First step for me is saying thank you... To my ex who thought I was a punching bag instead of his blessing Thank you - You taught me how to strengthen my mind with these rhymes when you told me that I would never be good enough. There's more beauty in resilience than endurance cause you were losing your mind and I was running out of time. To the preacher who thought I was too tainted and missed the God in me Thank you - You taught me that your past is a lesson and the fact I survived mine is a blessing. To the one who thought that the part between my thighs wasn't a gold mine but rather a field of lilies that you thought you were worthy enough to pluck Thank you - You taught me how to heal & to be whole again- and that forgiveness is a level of deepeness that I haven't quite conquered yet. Fear should be the 8th deadliest sin because with fear you can't win and that's all us brown girls know how to do. You taught me that your actions do not make me inadequate & that I can't quit on this journey for self love because of you, now I rise above. I'm afraid that I put them under the impression that I was made to please them & that's crazy because I was under the impression that they understood me better. Well PSA.. The first thing you should know about me, is that I am not for you- A lot more will make sense after that.
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Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 12:10 AM UTC
Sunflower
Transcending the barriers of language, is a powerful word of… utmost praise; it’s a personal shout of recognition, that Jehovah most be honored this day! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Now hear the World, exclaim in unison. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! His majesty is the final conclusion, that we’ll all reach at the Bema Seat. Knees will bow and tongues will confess, that Christ is the Lamb and our Lord; under His reign and rule, all acquiesce and attest with more shouts of praise. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! By the grace of His Spirit, we cry out: Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! . . . Author Note Inspired by: Psa 146:1; Rom 1:20, 14:10-12; 2 Cor 5:10; Acts 17:29; Col 2:9 and "The one word of praise that goes beyond all language barriers to make the whole world praise God with one voice in unison is 'Hallelujah!,' may we train our soul and command it to praise the Lord often in this universal earthly language that transcends time and space to reach heaven and reverberate in heaven to bring glory, honor and praise to our God and joy towards us from Him in response." —Abraham Israel Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
Poem: Hallelujah!
O Lord, my everlasting God, Your splendor warps my thinking; this Cosmic playground of Yours, encourages me to keep expanding in my search of finding You near, in the nuances of my existence; I’m surrounded by circles of Life, which are endless in persistence and repeatedly bring me back to You. I’m dumbfounded with awed amazement, that You conceived a dynamic world of challenging, eternal excitement that constantly extols Your majesty. By countless wonders, You’ve shown, the source of Love’s creativity flows outwardly from Your Heavenly throne. . . . Author Notes Inspired by: Psa 8 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
Poem: A Taste of Psalm 8
Finding Holy Ground frequently, should be much easier these days; isn’t it wherever we happen to go, since His presence abides with us? Haven’t we accepted His higher ways? Are His precepts and promises hidden, inside the stony temple of our hearts? Do we desire to mesh our wills with His? Are we making proper, daily sacrifices of attitudes- without being torn apart? Can our speech be free of covetousness? Will we learn to be completely content, boldly knowing The Lord is our helper? Can we get over the irrational fears that may usurp His Grace and circumvent the holy plans and purpose given to us? Are we bowing daily to His authority? Can we listen to Godly conversations, without be offended by our ignorance? Wherever we go, we must realize and see that we are standing on holy ground- for the Earth still belongs to the Lord. Therefore, let’s raise clean hands overhead with genuine praise before Him, seeing… that He remains worthy of being adored! . . . Author Notes Inspired by: Heb 13:5-8; Isa 55:8-9; Psa 24 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
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Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 9:50 AM UTC
Poem: Finding Holy Ground