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"rom" poems
quandering, pondering and whiskey has become first and only desk liquor. now digressing to the Blue Eyed beauty writ of this the final page of notebook. and now, reflecting on this early hour. an hour when the goat's head stares thru to soul with always lifeless eyes. stares thru this soul with lack of energy, with entire days' lack of consumption. and with ease this one has been long and gone in falsified attraction of angelfaced Blue Eyed matriarch; this one patriarch. thought entirely conceived. contrac- epted by reality of situation. by reality in general sense, yet words spew unfiltered with lingering hope behind slanted smile. shying stares, all the while watching from eyes' corners. voices of all but her's fall deaf; vessels otherwise mute to concerns not of the Blue Eye's. and here this one finds self lost to rom- anticized thoughts knowing they can be found sterilized via logic. contradicting always, yet no brass holding finger locked to joint. and realizations of actual place spears forehead; spears fore- brain. disrupting what is preconceived concerning entangled souls. hair falling aside temples. point of restraint, this one must end before depression catches hold; this one calling abrupt ending.
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Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
[(untitled) Blue Eyed one]
Har haal mein hum khush reh le, Gujarish hai bs mera humsafar har janam mile. Tabeez bnkar har buri nazar se mai unhe bacha lu, Apni har saans mai har janam unke sang likh du. Ye saanse agar tham bhi jayein, Aye mere sanam aap humesha mere sang rahein. Ye uljhi hui haathon ki lakeer, Aapke aane se sajti hai taqdeer. Mere rom rom bs ek hi hai naam, Aye khuda padh le mere naam se aaya paigaam. Daaman failaye fariyaad hai tujhse, Humesha jode rakhna mujhe unse. Wo mile sab kuch paa liya maine, Aur kuch na ab mujhe chahiye. Ankhiyon ko sukoon milta, Jab chehra unka dikh jaata. Is rani ki jaan tou hai wo raja, Unhi ki badault meri maang mein sindoor saja. Har koi chahta hai us aasmaan ke chaand ko, Mera chaand tou mere paas humesha ** Sajda karu mai unki is rooh ko, Suche moti se bhi saacha hai unka dil wo. Poori kayenaat samet ke meri jholi mein daal di, Is dil ki saanse tou us dil se humesha humesha ke liye judi. Wo saath hain tou mera khuda hai mere pass, Behad pyaara hai unka aur mera dil ka har ehsaas. Jab raakh ** jayegi ye kaaya meri, Mujhe har pal sukoon pahuchayegi awaaz wo teri. Saanse rahe na rahe mere saathiya, Humesha mere sang rehna mere mahiya. Jab umar ki ye naiya bhawar badal legi, Chehre ki chamak apne rang badal degi. Fir bhi aap humesha mere sang rehna, Mujhe aapse bs yahi hai kehna. Bikhre bikhre se they hum pehle, Aapke aane se is zindagi mein phul khile. Mere pass shabd hi nahi hain ki kaise us uparwale ka , Mai shukriya ada karu? Aap mile sab kuch mil gaya. Jab ye waqt khafa hone lagega mujhse, Ye duniya bhi saath chhor degi aas rhegi tujhse. Har kadam par saath rehna mere sanam, Tere siwa koi nahi hai mera humdum. Ye qismat humari bhut khel hai khelti, Dil ki dadhkane har pal aapko talaashti. Chahe kaisa bhi ** manjar, Zameenein hongi banjar. Tab bhi mere sang rehna. Bs yhi hai aapse kehna. Aapke ye ardhangini humesha hai aapke saath, Haathon mein liye hardum aapka haath. Chahe waqt badle ya taqdeer khel khele, Har pal aapki biwi milegi aapko lagaye seene se . Kuch nahi chahiye humein, Neele gagan ke neeche kahin bhi aapke sang rehle. Bs aap saath rehna, Itna hi mujhe kehna.
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Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 8:47 AM UTC
Humesha mere sang rehna bs yahi hai kehna
Har haal mein hum khush reh le, Gujarish hai bs mera humsafar har janam mile. Tabeez bnkar har buri nazar se mai unhe bacha lu, Apni har saans mai har janam unke sang likh du. Ye saanse agar tham bhi jayein, Aye mere sanam aap humesha mere sang rahein. Ye uljhi hui haathon ki lakeer, Aapke aane se sajti hai taqdeer. Mere rom rom bs ek hi hai naam, Aye khuda padh le mere naam se aaya paigaam. Daaman failaye fariyaad hai tujhse, Humesha jode rakhna mujhe unse. Wo mile sab kuch paa liya maine, Aur kuch na ab mujhe chahiye. Ankhiyon ko sukoon milta, Jab chehra unka dikh jaata. Is rani ki jaan tou hai wo raja, Unhi ki badault meri maang mein sindoor saja. Har koi chahta hai us aasmaan ke chaand ko, Mera chaand tou mere paas humesha ** Sajda karu mai unki is rooh ko, Suche moti se bhi saacha hai unka dil wo. Poori kayenaat samet ke meri jholi mein daal di, Is dil ki saanse tou us dil se humesha humesha ke liye judi. Wo saath hain tou mera khuda hai mere pass, Behad pyaara hai unka aur mera dil ka har ehsaas. Jab raakh ** jayegi ye kaaya meri, Mujhe har pal sukoon pahuchayegi awaaz wo teri. Saanse rahe na rahe mere saathiya, Humesha mere sang rehna mere mahiya. Jab umar ki ye naiya bhawar badal legi, Chehre ki chamak apne rang badal degi. Fir bhi aap humesha mere sang rehna, Mujhe aapse bs yahi hai kehna. Bikhre bikhre se they hum pehle, Aapke aane se is zindagi mein phul khile. Mere pass shabd hi nahi hain ki kaise us uparwale ka , Mai shukriya ada karu? Aap mile sab kuch mil gaya. Jab ye waqt khafa hone lagega mujhse, Ye duniya bhi saath chhor degi aas rhegi tujhse. Har kadam par saath rehna mere sanam, Tere siwa koi nahi hai mera humdum. Ye qismat humari bhut khel hai khelti, Dil ki dadhkane har pal aapko talaashti. Chahe kaisa bhi ** manjar, Zameenein hongi banjar. Tab bhi mere sang rehna. Bs yhi hai aapse kehna. Aapke ye ardhangini humesha hai aapke saath, Haathon mein liye hardum aapka haath. Chahe waqt badle ya taqdeer khel khele, Har pal aapki biwi milegi aapko lagaye seene se . Kuch nahi chahiye humein, Neele gagan ke neeche kahin bhi aapke sang rehle. Bs aap saath rehna, Itna hi mujhe kehna.
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It all started with.. "Watch your step when it comes, to finding true love.." Oh girls like me may slip and fall, If we don't dream so carefully i thought.. Well I'm a mermaid on the rocks with no feet at all.. Yet I'm running scared and I don't know, where to go.. But it's kind of exciting I love the rhythm that flows, in my writing And you've got a hold, On my rhyming, I don't wanna let this, break.. (Oops) See I love you, how your 4 lettered name rolls off my tongue too, I wanna dance to this song too, I wanna be your day break now There's a film in class which I think you'd like.. Well I'm just saying that because, It's a rom com gangsta black&white; Oh we're a silent film ourselves with lines of poetry as our speech.. And you're the heartbeat behind every piece I write and breathe So can I stay for longer?, I've been through heartbreaks before, & I've come out stronger But you're not a heartbreak, You're a Wonder.. A Scorpio Wonderland of stars.. Oh I love 'ya' And I've got secrets to whisper at midnight, I wanna see London light up only through your eyes I'll be your special friend if you think that's alright.. It all started with; A dreamer falling in and out of love.. But I'll be on the edge of the world with you if you ever wanted time to ever stop..
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 9:52 AM UTC
"A Wonderland of Stars"
Clothe yourself in the full armor of God and be able to withstand the Devil’s schemes; know that he’s only the father of lies, looking to destroy your earthly dreams. Cover yourself with Christ’s Breastplate of Righteousness and protect your torn heart; your essence has been purchased for His Kingdom, meaning that you’re meant… to be set apart. Gird your waist with the Belt of Truth and stand firm with integrity and honesty;   don’t allow your flesh’s nature to interfere with conditions that you need observe and see. Shod your feet with the Gospel’s peace; keep from searching for earthly trouble; instead congregate with the Body of Christ and focus on your faith becoming redoubled. The ongoing battle is not with flesh and blood; wield Faith’s Shield to quench life’s fiery darts. Remember that the wiles of Satan are limited! So outmaneuver him with your spiritual smarts. Put on your Helmet of Salvation, for the battles are within one’s mind. Allow the Divine knowledge of The Word to resonate with your spirit and find… yourself continually praying in the spirit and with understanding on all occasions. Be alert to His transformational messages, for upholding Godly principles and persuasions. Resist the Devil now and he will flee; endeavor to thwart the enemy’s attack; be strong in the Lord with power of His might; promises of victory have been already stacked. For we don’t wage war with human methods and plans. We use mighty weapons to knock down evil strongholds and breakdown every proud argument that keeps people from knowing God… as His Kingdom, continues to unfold. . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Eph 2:2, 6:10-20; 1 Thes 5:5-8; Joel 2:12-13; Rom 4:5; Jam 4:7; 2 Cor 10:3-5 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.amazon.com/Reaching-Towards-His-Unbounded-Glory/dp/1419650513/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie;=UTF8&qid;=1388058560&sr;=1-1&keywords;=reaching+towards+his+unbounded+glory By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
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Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
Poem: Armor of God
Clothe yourself in the full armor of God and be able to withstand the Devil’s schemes; know that he’s only the father of lies, looking to destroy your earthly dreams. Cover yourself with Christ’s Breastplate of Righteousness and protect your torn heart; your essence has been purchased for His Kingdom, meaning that you’re meant… to be set apart. Gird your waist with the Belt of Truth and stand firm with integrity and honesty;   don’t allow your flesh’s nature to interfere with conditions that you need observe and see. Shod your feet with the Gospel’s peace; keep from searching for earthly trouble; instead congregate with the Body of Christ and focus on your faith becoming redoubled. The ongoing battle is not with flesh and blood; wield Faith’s Shield to quench life’s fiery darts. Remember that the wiles of Satan are limited! So outmaneuver him with your spiritual smarts. Put on your Helmet of Salvation, for the battles are within one’s mind. Allow the Divine knowledge of The Word to resonate with your spirit and find… yourself continually praying in the spirit and with understanding on all occasions. Be alert to His transformational messages, for upholding Godly principles and persuasions. Resist the Devil now and he will flee; endeavor to thwart the enemy’s attack; be strong in the Lord with power of His might; promises of victory have been already stacked. For we don’t wage war with human methods and plans. We use mighty weapons to knock down evil strongholds and breakdown every proud argument that keeps people from knowing God… as His Kingdom, continues to unfold. . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Eph 2:2, 6:10-20; 1 Thes 5:5-8; Joel 2:12-13; Rom 4:5; Jam 4:7; 2 Cor 10:3-5 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.amazon.com/Reaching-Towards-His-Unbounded-Glory/dp/1419650513/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie;=UTF8&qid;=1388058560&sr;=1-1&keywords;=reaching+towards+his+unbounded+glory By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
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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
Hindi in Devnagri script: वो सुबह के सूर्य का प्रकाश, प्रज्वलित करता है तुम्हारी ये कांति. तुम्हें देख कर ही होती मेरी भोर है, तुमसे मिल कर मेरा रोम-रोम विभोर है. Transliterated to Latin script: Wo subah ke soorya ka prakaash, Prajwalit karta hai tumhaari ye kaanti. Tumhe dekh kar hi hoti meri bhor hai, Tumse mil kar mera rom-rom vibhor hai. Translated to English: That morning sunlight, Enlightens your radiant face. Seeing you my morning happens, Please know it that meeting you I have gotten goosebumps.
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 5:03 AM UTC
Radiance|कांति
Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary *This ilke Monk leet olde thynges pace, And heeld after the newe world the space.* Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales How out of date are simple wooden beads An upgrade is what the Rosary needs! Something to give your meditations spice Connected to your electronic device Beamed back and forth to The Cloud, you see With mega-mega gigs of memory Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary is just the thing! The Ave Maria is so out of date It’s Ave ME now, ‘cause we’re all so great! Make your prayers less about God, more about you Signal yourself through sacred Tooth of Blue A camera hidden in the crucifix Enables you to take your selfie-flicks The Pater beads count each joggery mile Or kilometres if those are your style The Ave beads are recycled with care To save the forests, the rivers, and air Designed in Germany, made in China High-definition beads; there’s nothing finer Buy the first (as advertised on tv) And we’ll send you a second all for free Remember: for weddings, funerals, and daily devotions Let RAM and ROM go through all the motions Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary – O make it sing!
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Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 7:24 AM UTC
Doctor Ponsonby's Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary
. Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Ca ndle Roman Candle Roman Candle Rom Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Roman Candle Rom an Roman Candle Roman Candle RomanCandle Roman Candle
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Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC
Happy Independence Day!
It’s true; I can never be separated, from the eternal Love of my Lord. No possible form of earthly trouble, can take away Salvation’s reward. The times of tribulations will pass, be it suffering, calamity or distress. Christ’s seed of righteousness in me, brings forth the joy of sacred rest. With my faith, I will persevere, moving through today’s affliction. Since I belong to Him, victory is… already promised, under His horizon. When the date of my final judgment comes, I will stand before Him and be embraced, with assurance, confidence and boldness, seeing myself… in the brightness of His face. . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Rom 8:35-37; 1 John 4:4, 17; Eph 1:17-20, 2:6 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
Poem: With Assurance, Confidence and Boldness
The power of contentment is a strong force, composed of the sense of inward sufficiency; for we’ve been promised the strength to succeed when we open spiritual eyes and dare to see… His divine plan of grace and abundance for us. Christ, the Alpha and Omega, beginning and end, demonstrated His Love with actions at Calvary, giving us the privilege to be called His friend. We should not be worried about personal needs, for we’ve been equipped to address all of them; study The Word, apply His principles to your life and you’ll enjoy Life, without feeling condemned. For contentment has nothing to do with your wants; it’s being satisfied on the way to where you’re going. Boldly ask God for wisdom; trust Him and His timing; continue to be blessed by the seeds you are sowing. Don’t be affected by Life-stealing, negative emotions; find your identity of being one of His girls and boys; real contentment is the underlying power to be happy- learn to lean on Biblical promises and the Lord’s joy! . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Rom 11:36; 1 Tim 6:6; Eph 3:20; Jam 4:2; Phil 4:11-13; John 3:16-17 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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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
Poem: Power of Contentment
As one chosen by God, certain attributes are demonstrated with loving regularity; despite one’s beliefs, showing kindness requires a daring of spiritual temerity. For The Lord expects His children to give Love towards people without expectations; know that being tenderhearted, helps one to naturally extend actions of compassion. Don’t think lightly, about the richness of kindness, it may one lead to repentance; its warm embrace softens the heart, while Salvation overrides Death’s life sentence. The merit of kindness can’t be overstated; being accepting, forgiving without judgment means not rigidly imposing beliefs on others. As His children, one should make investments in the individualized development of others. With the “Fruit of The Holy Spirit”, growth and maturation can be properly accelerated when applying by the principle of God’s oath to “humbly walk in Love” (as He requires). Kindness is patient, when paired with respect, justice, long-suffering and unconditional Love; the value of kindness, no one should neglect. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Eph 4:32; Gal 5:22-23; Heb 6:10; Rom 2:4; Luke 6:35; Col 3:12; Prov 3:3; Mica 6:8 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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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
Poem: The Value of Kindness
“I don't know how to take this I don't see why he moves me He's a man, he's just a man And I've had so many men before In very many ways He's just one more“ <•> ladies you know ~ I know these lyrics and the deep cut and the familiar rut, they unsecret in our inner chambers and there is no bandage to rip off, which/why the cut never heals despite your careful care to never actively seek out the irritant but it finds you in a rom-com a particular intersection a advertisement for half zip sweaters when saying no to a particular restaurant automatically and the emotional shake, not a smoothie, part horseradish sweet sad, part bitter herbs, tasteless bread, spiced with a blend of angry, self-loathing, regret, and rage that your emotions abduct your composure, and that it still happens way too often a pale of regret, that it was a lost chance, the kind that come more infrequent, and you mourn the building up inside, an intolerance for risk taking which once was your most favorite single characteristic you liked, about yourself
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Dec 21, 2024
Dec 21, 2024 at 3:07 PM UTC
Part II: Don’t know how to love him (he’s just a man)
With all of your mind, can you imagine… living a sacred and a victorious Life, whereby you become more like The Christ? With all of your heart, can you believe… that you’re covered by His righteousness and an embodiment of God’s poetic finesse? With all of your might, can you achieve… the desires that He has purposed for you? Can you envision His promises coming true when daring to imagine, believe and trust Him? Only your lack of Faith- can hold you back; pray continually to fend off ungodly attacks of evil, that originate within the darkness of this world; know that you still possess Salvation and have been… permanently blessed! . . . Author Notes Inspired by: 1 John 5:4-5; 2 Cor 5:21; Rom 3:22, 6:23, 8:31-39; Eph 2:8-10, 6:12; Isa 40:31; John 1:12; Prov 19:21 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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Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
Poem: Imagine. Believe. Achieve.
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
The other day When I said that your face reminds me of a rhinoceros I wasn't saying that you look like a bulky box Or that your skin looks grey I was really trying to say that You make me feel like there are a hundred 5 ton mammals stampeding across my heart And sometimes when I look at you I can't even breathe Because all the weight of wanting this Crushes my lungs til my chest burns like an African desert Consequently most rhinos are found in Africa And I researched all of this in the hopes that Maybe you would understand You see the thing is I am not good with emotions And I know as much about love as I know about quantum physics And I don't even know what quantum physics is about Or what it means for that matter I've been trying to read all the romance novels that I could find I've been trying to watch all the rom-coms I can torrent Hell I even watched Valentine's Day thrice But I still don't know what to do when I'm with you I am unsure and clumsy and petrified So much so that I can't even work up the courage To hold your hand I'm trying, I really am It's just so **** difficult When falling in love feels more like Jumping out of a helicopter A hundred thousand feet up Without a parachute on One day I will be able To directly say what I really mean Without metaphors involving animals That only I understand But for now let me just say Your face reminds me of a rhinoceros
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Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 7:02 AM UTC
An Adventure In Miscommunication
One time within thee grass I bent to wipe my *** And where the paper thou? For this I shall not know. I sat in much despair My muddy ***** hair Drenched in a mud of brown My whole world upside down. Across the field I call A fair maiden and where all The grass spread like ROM This maiden was my mom. Alas! I called to three A motherly lady Who gave me parchment for the **** I thank thee maiden, For not wiping is heinous.
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 3:38 AM UTC
Thou Fair Maiden be thy Mom
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
Long ago, a Savior was born and hidden within a humble birth; covered with the cloak of humanity, His presence impacted this earth. Although we remember His birthday, know that Christ is no longer a child; He stopped being an infant, who was… helpless, quiet, tender and mild. He grew in strength and wisdom; He demonstrated His holy authority; He lived as He divinely taught; He set the example, for you and me. He gave of Himself completely and paid the ultimate sacrifice. He embodied God’s covenant of love; His actions were timely and precise. After suffering the shame of crucifixion, He was briefly buried in a rock-hewn tomb; three days later, He triumphantly exited with a glorified body from Resurrection’s womb. Today He lives and sovereignly rules; so people of faith, it’s time to agree that we must continue to live Godly lives, seeing that… the manger is still empty! Author Notes: Loosely based on: Matt 1:18-2:15, 27:46-54; Acts 2:22-24; Heb 7:25; 1 John 2:1-2; Rom 8:34 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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Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 5:58 AM UTC
Poem: The Manger Is Still Empty
socks warm socks socks like winter socks that might come off in your boots when trudging through foot-deep snow but will be just right for lying atop mountains of pillows as many pillows as are in your house your house that smells like you there’s no snow now just rain and rain and rain and rain and rain but it’s cold enough outside these walls and cold enough inside our skulls to warrant hot chocolate, hats and hand-holding and cuddles until we feel ourselves bleeding enough sun from our chests, however fleeting, enough laughter from our eyes enough love from our lungs enough warmth rom our sock-clad feet enough spark from where my fingers meet your hair to forget the red skin sap and sticky spilling squeezed lashes of yesterday let’s just pretend we can forget yesterday i’d like to forget yesterday socks yes we’ll put on socks we’ll put on warm socks and switch our clothes until we can’t even pretend to know any other smell than each other and we won’t tell your mother how sad we are we won’t tell her that anything bled but my eyes and then maybe she’ll let you stay the night and you’ll stay talking about how beautiful the sunset is while i cry and watch you glow so that’s how it’ll be we’ll put on socks and put up walls of blankets and only let each other inside you’ll hold my hand i’ll stroke your hair and maybe we’ll be warm like that while the rain keeps falling outside
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Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 9:09 PM UTC
sad socks and rainy days
The flesh lusts daily against the Spirit and the Spirit wars contrary to the flesh. The opposing tenets of grace and iniquity can never with each other… completely mesh. For the redeemed sinners operate by grace, while the practitioners of unrighteousness prefer the dark, ungodly ways of wickedness and will not inherit the Kingdom’s fullness. Fleshly works are clearly evident: adultery, fornication, idolatry, sorcery, uncleanness, contentions, jealousies, ****** immorality, hatred, envy, revelries and evil-mindedness. Fruits of the sinful flesh are plain to see and spirits cringe- at their being mentioned. Can we expect others to pursue God’s holiness, when people are upset- from being questioned? For we live under God’s grace and not His Law; His righteous wrath will be eventually revealed. Acceptance of His gift of Salvation can insure… that our lives will have been redeemed and sealed! . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Gal 5:16; Rom 1:18-32, 2:1-16 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
Poem: Pursuit of Holiness
Long ago, a Savior was born and hidden within a humble birth; covered with the cloak of humanity, His presence impacted this earth. Although we remember His birthday, know that Christ is no longer a child; He stopped being an infant, who was… helpless, quiet, tender and mild. He grew in strength and wisdom; He demonstrated His holy authority; He lived as He divinely taught; He set the example, for you and me. He gave of Himself completely and paid the ultimate sacrifice. He embodied God’s covenant of love; His actions were timely and precise. After suffering the shame of crucifixion, He was briefly buried in a rock-hewn tomb; three days later, He triumphantly exited with a glorified body from Resurrection’s womb. Today He lives and sovereignly rules; so people of faith, it’s time to agree that we must continue to live Godly lives, seeing that… the manger is still empty! . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Matt 1:18-2:15, 27:46-54; Acts 2:22-24; Heb 7:25; 1 John 2:1-2; Rom 8:34 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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Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 10:13 AM UTC
Poem: The Manger Is Still Empty
“To us, white girls are exotic,” says my Arab American boyfriend. At that moment, my brain ceases to make sense of those words in that order. Exotic? White? Girl? Me? Me. He means... me. So this is what I say to my Arab American boyfriend who has more culture in his pinky than all of white America combined. From what I can tell, to be white in America is boring static, AM radio on a Sunday morning with a broken dial on a back road in the boonies. It is the culture born by everything borrowed but wrongfully claimed as its own invention. To be white, in America, tastes like cream of wheat with no hope of brown sugar. It is a tumbleweed-kind-of-rootless and just as desert dry. It is colorless, odorless, tasteless— and will choke you slowly if you don’t build up a tolerance. But if you’re lucky enough to be white in America, for about a hundred bucks and a swab of the cheek, the Internet can tell you where you came from. Even if that makes you feel cultured, tomorrow you will wake up and still be white in America. To be white in America, I thought, was as far from exotic as the self-loathing, middle aged guy behind the counter at your local DMV. But white girls, he says, are exotic. Perhaps it’s because pumpkin spice oozes from my pasty pores, or that “there ain’t no laws when you’re drinkin’ the Claws.” Maybe he couldn’t resist the fact that the Starbucks barista knows my order better than my name, or that my hair blowdries pin straight— no matter the time of year. I wonder if it’s the combo of black leggings, messy buns, and work out tanks— or the fact that I think I’m saving the whole god **** sea turtle population with my stainless steel straw. Exotic? Maybe it’s my compulsive nature to buy in bulk, to pet every dog I see, and to cry over Queer Eye episodes. It couldn’t possibly be the steady diet of rom coms, my collection of Birkenstocks, or the apple cinnamon candle burning on my windowsill that reminds me of “fall y’all,” but then again, who knows? To me, my whiteness is a privilege that will forever be misinterpreted as entitlement by every person who checks that “white” box on the form without checking themselves too. “To us, white girls are exotic,” he says. White girl is just happy he likes her in spite of it.
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Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 10:10 PM UTC
white girl exotica
“To us, white girls are exotic,” says my Arab American boyfriend. At that moment, my brain ceases to make sense of those words in that order. Exotic? White? Girl? Me? Me. He means... me. So this is what I say to my Arab American boyfriend who has more culture in his pinky than all of white America combined. From what I can tell, to be white in America is boring static, AM radio on a Sunday morning with a broken dial on a back road in the boonies. It is the culture born by everything borrowed but wrongfully claimed as its own invention. To be white, in America, tastes like cream of wheat with no hope of brown sugar. It is a tumbleweed-kind-of-rootless and just as desert dry. It is colorless, odorless, tasteless— and will choke you slowly if you don’t build up a tolerance. But if you’re lucky enough to be white in America, for about a hundred bucks and a swab of the cheek, the Internet can tell you where you came from. Even if that makes you feel cultured, tomorrow you will wake up and still be white in America. To be white in America, I thought, was as far from exotic as the self-loathing, middle aged guy behind the counter at your local DMV. But white girls, he says, are exotic. Perhaps it’s because pumpkin spice oozes from my pasty pores, or that “there ain’t no laws when you’re drinkin’ the Claws.” Maybe he couldn’t resist the fact that the Starbucks barista knows my order better than my name, or that my hair blowdries pin straight— no matter the time of year. I wonder if it’s the combo of black leggings, messy buns, and work out tanks— or the fact that I think I’m saving the whole god **** sea turtle population with my stainless steel straw. Exotic? Maybe it’s my compulsive nature to buy in bulk, to pet every dog I see, and to cry over Queer Eye episodes. It couldn’t possibly be the steady diet of rom coms, my collection of Birkenstocks, or the apple cinnamon candle burning on my windowsill that reminds me of “fall y’all,” but then again, who knows? To me, my whiteness is a privilege that will forever be misinterpreted as entitlement by every person who checks that “white” box on the form without checking themselves too. “To us, white girls are exotic,” he says. White girl is just happy he likes her in spite of it.
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80
**** you It sounds so bitter coming from a mothers mouth If I have a daughter I will only tell her sweet nothings about how wonderful she is, how beautiful she is and I will never spew the profanities that you've shouted at me because I want her confidence to be as high as the skyscrapers that just skim the clouds so she knows that nothing is the limit Darling, I will tell her, if someone thinks you're too big for them then they obviously don't have the equipment for the job anyway instead of tagging along on a shopping spree where the only thing I tell her is how that top brings out her belly rolls and how that skirt shows her love handles, I will handle her with all the love I have I will promise her that I will never say I told you so especially when her first love cheats on her and she comes to me in tears wanting nothing but a hug, I will supply the chocolates, the rom-coms and teach her that the only men you need in life are Ben & Jerry If I have a daughter, I will never compare her to her brother, I will never brag about only one of them to people I meet on the street, I will never tell her that she should be more like him because he's perfect at everything she's not without even trying...I will tell her she's good at everything I will say she's the best at having the worst coordination, like her mother, I will tell her she's the best at being who she is, I will tell her she is the best at stealing my heart away every time I look at her So thank you Mom...for teaching me what not to do, for showing me how to break down your daughters confidence, thank you for teaching me what a hypocrite is, thank you for all the 'I told you sos' and thank you...for teaching me how to be a mother
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Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
Thank You Mom
**** you It sounds so bitter coming from a mothers mouth If I have a daughter I will only tell her sweet nothings about how wonderful she is, how beautiful she is and I will never spew the profanities that you've shouted at me because I want her confidence to be as high as the skyscrapers that just skim the clouds so she knows that nothing is the limit Darling, I will tell her, if someone thinks you're too big for them then they obviously don't have the equipment for the job anyway instead of tagging along on a shopping spree where the only thing I tell her is how that top brings out her belly rolls and how that skirt shows her love handles, I will handle her with all the love I have I will promise her that I will never say I told you so especially when her first love cheats on her and she comes to me in tears wanting nothing but a hug, I will supply the chocolates, the rom-coms and teach her that the only men you need in life are Ben & Jerry If I have a daughter, I will never compare her to her brother, I will never brag about only one of them to people I meet on the street, I will never tell her that she should be more like him because he's perfect at everything she's not without even trying...I will tell her she's good at everything I will say she's the best at having the worst coordination, like her mother, I will tell her she's the best at being who she is, I will tell her she is the best at stealing my heart away every time I look at her So thank you Mom...for teaching me what not to do, for showing me how to break down your daughters confidence, thank you for teaching me what a hypocrite is, thank you for all the 'I told you sos' and thank you...for teaching me how to be a mother
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7
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.
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 6:54 AM UTC
Poem: Vastness of the Kingdom