"unfruitful" poems
Talk incessantly.
Dwell on temporal affairs.
Ask friends for advice; ignore it.
Air out perceived problems constantly.
Respond defensively.
Never take criticism at face value.
Write off whoever won't humor you.
Accuse others of misunderstanding you.
Build your lifestyle on whims.
Presume entitlement to *** for "being nice".
Choose an inappropriate diet for your body.
Avoid personal responsibility.
Refuse to own your failures and errors.
Justify behaviors that create conflict.
Rationalize unfruitful thought and action at all cost.
Dismiss what contradicts your prejudices.
Compare yourself to Jesus.
Insist on your specialness.
Insist that others acknowledge it.
Don't communicate your expectations.
Blame others for your bad choices.
Fish for compliments.
Use sentiment to ply others.
Use sentiment to ply yourself.
Subject anyone to yourself
while the above applies to you.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
1 Be ye therefore followers of God, as dear children;
2 And walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us and hath given Himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet smelling savour.
3 But fornication and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be once named among you, as becometh saints.
4 Neither filthiness nor foolish talking nor jesting, which are not convenient, but rather giving of thanks.
5 For this ye know, that no whoremonger, nor unclean person, nor covetous man, who is an idolater, hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.
6 Let no man deceive you with vain words; for because of these things cometh the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.
7 Be not ye therefore partakers with them.
8 For ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord; walk as children of light;
9 For the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth;
10 Proving what is acceptable unto the Lord,
11 And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 10:53 AM UTC
Empowered and impaired
they conspire to impeach.
Bad Orange-man, spared
still remains out of reach.
If impeachment was due,
now it rots in the the sun.
They're attempting a coup
when no wrong has been done.
Over-ripened, it's rotting
the maggots now fly . . .
unfruitful, their plotting:
a low-hanging lie.
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 8:39 AM UTC
Make a point of being courageous and strong;
today is another day from our blessed Lord.
Stand against the evil that you witness now,
as a mature apostle with Him… in one accord.
We have nothing to fear from our detractors,
who partake of the unfruitful works of darkness.
With the indwelling of God’s Spirit, we are
protected and covered with His righteousness.
We’ve been called to expose sin in the world,
even though the wicked hope that we don’t bother;
by tackling difficult subjects of human behavior,
we choose to honor Jehovah, the Holy Father!
In Him, we move and experience His Presence;
out of our brokenness shines the Light of Christ;
we desire that everyone should not be afraid
and obtain Salvation’s gift of… everlasting Life.
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Author notes
Inspired by:
Deu 31:6; Eph 5:11; Acts 17:28
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
Its time to be left to my own devices
and rewire the circuitry.
Climb to Mt. Un-climbable,
defeat the monster at the top.
I fear only the reaper and respect his wishes
for his claws are scraping at our windows
every time we hit the pillow.
Don’t dive into shallow bodies of waters
and don’t forget to wear your sunscreen.
Bereft by my own unfruitful devices I search for solitude.
I creep through the dank recesses
of my stewing mind.
I search for meaning
to my ceaseless activities.
I grow closer to myself
and I learn to respectfully listen.
I creep, I search, I grow, I learn
and I am my own companion;
Only I will be there for the rest of my battlefield life.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
Little robin redbreast what things do you hear?
Little robin rebreast, you're so beautiful,
But little robin, have you ever felt fear?
Robin, have you ever worked your life away for something most unfruitful?
Robin, you are so great,
But have you ever felt hate?
Robin, have you felt persecution?
Been threatened excecution?
Been judged by your feathers and who you love?
Like persay, if you were smitten with a dove?
Well little robin redbreast, if you have never been beaten and killed inside for who you are,
If you have never had to hide that breast you were born with,
Then my little robin, you have never had to hide, from grace you do not dive,
From that breast you have never pulled a knife,
And you have not lived the common life.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 4:35 PM UTC
Morning peace and self-reflection
– an apathetic joy –
not caring for gain or worldly wealth,
but feeling joyful in the single moment.
This peace is new,
and welcome.
Strange that I would find this peace
apart from God (as I have known him)
and apart from religion
(the staple fare of most of my life.)
Yet, set adrift from these restraints,
I have found a simple peace and an easy joy
in finding good and kindness in all men,
in all moments,
in this time,
here.
Now.
When I feel fear and anxiety and
find myself in unfruitful rumination,
I have scrambled for the fruitless
pabulum of prayer and self-justification,
when all the while the ease of simple acceptance
and acknowledgement were waiting patiently for my use.
“That they are what they are,”
will quickly ease my heart faster now
than any heartfelt cry for peace or justice
from a god who is removed from the world, and
who seems wholly disinterested and uncaring.
© 2012 Michael Hunter
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 9:52 PM UTC
Make every word count
I waste space with every bad sentence I write
every nonsensical, unfruitful thought
I must think now that I am just
no good at introspection despite
calling myself "artist"
(a self-given title I suppose)
But, perhaps with some work I could
improve? - learn more, wonder more, conclude more
than emotional blubberment, which is of course
entirely dim and disgustingly consuming
I want to challenge it
step over it to a place where I
understand, where I hold
the spark in my hand and
marvel at its beauty and Know
how things are
Apr 17, 2012
Apr 17, 2012 at 5:04 PM UTC
Initially, it was an innocent feeling
A longing to escape treacherous lives.
In one season the seed was sown,
And in another hope was reaped.
Before long, the path to new lands was paved.
Differing thoughts bound by creed,
Met at the river of blood
Parting between Ebony and Ivory.
It was grief that sheltered them.
At home, it was prosperity that was desired.
Love was for Lady Success, yet unrequited.
But amongst the best, the love brought setbacks,
And amongst the worst, it carried envy.
Thus the path to wealth blocked with thorns and thistles.
The seeds sown among the thorns,
Are the peerless seeds.
But disillusions of wealth and pleasure choke them,
Reaping nothing but unfruitful labour.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 3:52 PM UTC
I ache for relief.
I ache for you.
I ache for so many things I'm not allowed.
I shouldn't ache for you, not any longer.
I shouldn't ache for relief, not any longer.
Yet,
The ache is still ever-present in me.
I ache for what had been between you and I.
I ache for what had been seven and a half months ago, before you, before relief became a thing of the past.
I ache for stability.
I ache for you.
Can't you feel me?!
Can you feel anything?
I'm not sure I can anymore.
All I'm left with is this aching inside my bones.
All I'm left with is this horrendous trembling in my muscles.
All I'm left with are memories of days gone by.
All I'm left with are unfruitful days without you.
Jul 16, 2010
Jul 16, 2010 at 5:58 PM UTC
Conscience tingles
Fingers wiggle
Sun shines and no one dies
Forgotten seagulls glide toward self-cancellation
Predestined adolescents forge three prong
doubts and fears
Parents watch the past bloom on their dark clouded
offspring
Girls clench their butts
Boys leave their chins untouched
Unfruitful attempts of self sprung self improvement
Read other's stories
You never will learn that lesson from within
Failure rises again
Climbing up into the brain
luring acids to melt the ambition of the
politically slain
Fingers tingle
conscience wiggles
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 1:05 PM UTC
Travels adventure time election
bring make life selection
through long silence.
Space wide invites
thought devise
lost wander
endless wonder
through cloud doubt
sterile ponder.
Mind seeds unfruitful deed
moment blinds
focus declines
turns need.
Inexorable heights
secret aligns
fine tune
claims loom
woven light transcends
might
allness float
high bares
void
Great Silence.
Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 6:43 AM UTC
On the day of worship the Temple filled.
It had been three years since the Messiah left, and nobody had forgotten.
The Priests of Tek dawned their red robes
and Father John Misty took his place at the altar, his heart heavy yet full of chagrin.
He clears his throat,
*my fellow children of yonder Year,
my sisters of Sand,
my brothers of Dust,
my lovers of Greed,
here now what I say,
for I speaketh not.*
*for now speaks The Shrike,
for now speaks The Lord of Atonement,
your God of Pain,
your mystifying Excellence of Death.*
Father Misty reached into his black robe and drew forth a small child.
What life may have been left in the infant was destroyed when Father John Misty stuck the unmoving body onto the red spike protruding from the altar, the spike entering the body through the **** and reaching an inch from the soft skull.
Father John Misty's voice took on a lower town, yet softer, not forgiving, yet all knowing.
*This child has a name.
This child is Jesus Christ.
This child will grow as if alive.*
And before the rough congregations eyes the child began to grow on the spire. The limbs first lengthened, than filled out. The child's chest expanded and the head grew bigger. Father Misty then hoisted him off of the spire, and set him, bleeding, before the congregation. The body began to shift, jerky movements before the skin appeared to bubble. A low gutteral sound began to emanate from now full grown man. He lifted his torso and head up and looked at each member of The Temple of Ten individually.
He spoke
*I am your savior,
I am unfruitful death,
I am unwarranted pain,
I am money being cheated from the desperate man,
I am the brains taken from a lobotomite,
I am the destruction of a hurricane,
I am as dead as the gasoline you **** for,
I am as dead as you are.*
*I am Jesus Christ,
this is not the first time you've seen me,
this will not be the last.
You are allowed to die now.*
And they did.
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
Some lost flower part
sparks into my vision
field today. The abrupt
edge of a prepared land
welcomes the color
and new shy stock.
Neighboring higher
life forms succumb
to delicate nibbling,
after the moon 's squinting
dance partner settles into
the vicious dust.
My long tube of
garden fluid
appears each effervescent
morning to envelope
the rooty darkness
with a fill of
such precious sipping.
In shorter daily periods
what is left dwindling
below is yanked from
an unfruitful oblivion
and added
into the content of a
pleasant April uprising.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
I stumble through briars and thorns
I cannot see clear anymore
Although I hear whispers, which might be your call
I cannot believe you would want me at all
My footsteps lessen and halt
My head does not know where to go
Although I hear sirens, which could be for me
Their search is unfruitful as it ever could be
I fall in a small trench and cave
I think I have broken my leg
Although I hear songbirds, which could mean daylight
I have no new hope as I once thought that I might
Feb 22, 2010
Feb 22, 2010 at 2:46 PM UTC
THEREFORE; Be Imitators of GOD as Dear Children.. And walk in Love, as CHRIST also has Loved Us and given Himself for us, an Offering And A Sacrifice to GOD for A Sweet Smelling Aroma... But, Fornication and All Uncleanness or Covetousness, let it not even be named among Thee, as is Fitting for Saints: Neither Filthiness, nor ***** talking, nor Coarse Jesting, which are not Fitting, but rather Giving of Thanks... For this Thou know, that no Fornicator, unclean Kind, nor Covetous Man, who is an Idolater, has any Inheritance in thy Kingdom Of Christ And GOD.. Let no One Deceive Thee with empty Words, for because of these things the Wrath Of GOD comes upon the Sons Of Disobedience. Therefore do not be Partakers with them.. For thy were once Darkness, but now You're Light In The LORD. Walk as Children Of Light.. For the Fruit of the SPIRIT is in All Goodness, Righteousness, And Truth) Finding out what is Acceptable to thy LORD. And have no Fellowship with the Unfruitful Works Of Darkness, but rather Expose them.. For it is Shameful even to Speak of those things which are done by them in Secret. But all things that are Exposed are made Manifested by the Light, for whatever makes Manifest Is Light.... Therefore He Says; Awake, thou who Sleep, Arise from the Dead, and Christ will give You Light'' See then that thou walk Circumspectly, not as fools but as Wise.. Redeeming the Time, because the Days are evil, Therefore do not be Unwise, but Understand what the Will of the LORD Is... And do not be Drunk with Wine, in which is Dissipation, but be Filled with the HOLY-SPIRIT. Speaking to One another in Psalms and Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Singing and Making Melody in Thy Heart to thou LORD.. Giving Thanks always for All things to GOD The Father In The Name Of Our Lord Jesus Christ... Submitting to One another in the Fear Of GOD. Wives, Submit to Your Own Husbands, as to the LORD.. For the Husband Is Head of the Wife, as also CHRIST Is Head Of The Church; and HE Is the Savior of The Body.. Therefore, Just as the Church Is Subject to Christ, so let the Wives be to their Own husbands in Everything... Husbands, Love thy Wives, just as Christ also Loved thy Church and gave Thyself for Her.. That He might Sanctify and Cleanse her with the Washing of Water by the Word.. That He might Present her to himself A Glorious Church, not having Spot Or Wrinkle or any Such thing, but that She should be Holy and without Blemish.... So, Husbands ought to Love their Own Wives as their Own Bodies; He who Loves his Wife Loves Himself.... For no One ever Hated his Own Flesh, but Nourished And Cherishes it, just as the LORD does the Church. For we are Members Of His Body, of his Flesh and Of His Bones.... For this Reason A Man shall Leave His Father and Mother and be Joined to his Wife, and the Two shall Become One Flesh'' This is S Great Mysteries, but I Speak Concerning Christ and the Church... Nevertheless, let each one Of Thee in Particular so Love his Own Wife as Himself, and let the Wife see that She Respects Her Husband... GOD Remain Our Strength... GOD Is Love... GOD With Us..!!! GOD Bless.... Peace And Love....!!!!
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 1:26 PM UTC
I just want to speak
speak where someone
at least a stray dog can listen
better, understand
It was so unfruitful that I kept writing
the essence of writing is suffering
suffering is like star
star is like your friend
friend who never loved you back
love is pathetic
passion is died
dead is god
god is a myth
myth is a new logic
logic is intellectuality
there is so little difference
I have to die to draw his attention
he's busy carving melons for Halloween
It is ghostly wandering
ghosts are too many
many things have to be transparent
I expected his eyes to be
never saw them
never realized he was not into them
though he owned them
Jun 2, 2012
Jun 2, 2012 at 11:16 PM UTC
I can see.
Flood of tears streaming down your delicate face.
Your rosy life replaced by a topsy turvy one faught with failure.
Filled with disappointments that have deprived you of precious sleep.
Laden with bouts of miscarriages and recurring rounds of ailments.
I can hear;
The deep groans you utter in your anguish.
The whimper you wish to suppress every time the belt of your supposed better half touches you.
The deep breaths you take before going into the doctors office,
And the bitter cry when you are tagged unfruitful by your mother in law.
Nwa nnem.
Jide Chukwu Ike.
Move away from that bottle and make your way towards His temple.
With a little belief, approach His temple.
With a little strength, kneel at His feet.
With a genuine heart, thank Him for the times of plenty.
With a sincere heart, pour out your heart in prayers.
With a determined resolve, make a vow or seed offering to Him.
Naught more I can say.
Much more He can do.
For He is Jehovah overdo.
Surprising Sarah with a child in her old age.
Granting Esther favour in the sight of her peoples overlords
Using a little boy in David to bring victory to his nation.
Just believe auntie.
All will be well uncle.
He shall fight for you and you will hold your peace.
#BASHORUN
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 3:45 AM UTC
Old knees creaking
Never really running and never giving in
And their souls are screaming
For the graves beckoning
Deep in the hearts of flowers
Where the fragrances lie dormant still
There are burning desires
Where shadows flirt
And minds still deny
A destiny unfruitful
And that is where my heart does lay
Where your feet walked upon the earth
And your smile rushed through the mirth
And that is where my heart does lay
Where your fragrance still is felt
And your lips touched mine
And no war will erase this memory
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
Dear my valentine
As my pen pours out pain
Bursting from deepest recess of my brain
My broken heart is bleeding tears
As my eyes are shedding blood
I now understand you don't love me
You really love hating me
I asked you "will you be my valentine?"
And your response made a part of crypt
Be deciphered
I now understand why you(U) and i (I)
Are not near each other in the alphabetical order
But NO N & O follow each other
Sticking with you i thought was so cool
But now i realize to you i was just a fool
You always wanted roses
I never knew you would use their thorns
To ***** my heart
To you i was not good looking
But you were good in looking how
Deep my pockets were
I was always faithful
But my efforts were unfruitful
You made me realize just how much poor
I was
A beggar of love
I dread seeing the red color
It doesn't represent lovers day
But broken hearts day
I have to put a full stop there because
The sheet is soaking red
Intensifying my dull aching
Looking forward for your
Break up message
Because once again i have
Celebrated loneliness alone
Crushed heart of
A love saturated poet
Kayvoh
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 10:22 AM UTC
Have you ever been caught up in a moment?
Where you feel like you have been caught robbing your government?
Have you ever been caught up in a moment?
Where they miss judge all your movement?
Moments where you see things you were blind to
Moments you feel the paradies is empty or deaf to the people
That moment you pray for death to come to your rescue
You ask yourself was this what I was born to go through?
moments where pains won't let your tears fall
Fears makes you find beauty indoor
Where having hope looks likes a marathon
Striving to survive on guts.
Moments seems too long
When one hearts burn
By a cry of a new born
Wondering if you still got a turn.
Moments you smile in tears
You faithlessly pray in red fears
Counting unfruitful years
Wondering if today happiness will end you well.
Moments when you feel lost in love
Caught up in the atmosphere of lust
Feel used and dumped
That awkward moment you feel you are done with the world.
If you have, then we have been in the same world
Where one speak in silence for money is the loudest voice
Where luck turns your sweat filled effort void
That awkward moment you realise that we are not equal after all.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Her music was "too aggressive" or "too loud". As soon as her pen graced the paper it was though her well of ideas ran dry. The same happened for her paintings too, an unfruitful harvest of lazily drying acrylics. She needed a new outlet.
She was going crazy in her mind, absolutely insane. Her dreams overwhelmed her nights so that she awoke and felt as though she hadn't slept. Her days seemed to zoom by as though stuck in a time vacuum turned on high. Her attitude and persona was as neutral as the light makeup that was on her face.
Her cup sputtered to the floor, spilling her tea everywhere. She cried out in aggravation. She was so done with being pushed around and ignored and shut down. She needed an outlet and she needed one now.
Post: 38 days
Her life had begun to clear a little. She found an outlet. Not your typical one either.
He was a character in himself with a whole other world in his eyes. He was different in the way he carried himself: confident but reserved. He knew who he was but still let people try to guess. Words didn't phase him one bit, except from the eloquent ones she spoke to him late at night after the rain had succumbed to their presence in the night air.
They worked. They were made for each other, even though an unexpected pairing. No one knew how or why or when but they just seemed to mesh.
They could both attest to their likenesses. As soon as her hand met his, that's when it was all over. She knew nothing else mattered any longer. She found happiness. For once in forever in her crazy and ******* up life she found happiness. She found love. She found herself.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
Glossary of generics, favourer of all merit, ****** to detach detained editorial.
Some come in softly, hard heads take big splats. Lukewarmness salts thy unfruitful earth, where newborn births are stars to their own mania's, Cranium's go connected! Stretched parsels to broken fibula's!
Moralist preachers teach to the misbehaved, can you account for the thousandth day you've encountered?
For the slaves you've made out of your own bloodline, you've lost much of your own commandments you lowly persuationer!!
Old partied savourer!!!
Dissatisfaction finalizes all authories where glory is none, cheatings no more fun? Haha for you can clap your solid hands to gentled tears, for missing years are operetic in cower and palate!!!!!
Wake yourself to thine nail, strike one time with a mallet for all reasonings gone, gone, gone . when its you that has lost,
When its thy world who hath won!!!
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
The rather reckless thought in her mind
Implanted in her by the constant chatter between us
The chatter that is all about how deep I long for her
The chatter that makes me a lover unafraid of the sacrifices I have to endure to make her a part of me
The words, the gestures and the whispers are just a hammer forged for a very purpose
The purpose of striking the intends of mine deep down into her
With the passage of time we drifted apart
Neither forced nor built upon the bitterness of our bond, but rather a natural action
We drifted so far from each other that we wake up as strangers
The influence of each other has totally been wiped
For others to take the place where she dwelled was no tedious task
She is nothing but a person of the past
Now a mysterious thought keeps my eyes wide open at dusk
The chatters of the past always have a beginning, a time of ultimate joy and an end regardless of the individual I happen to share these moments
These questions arises within me, questions that are truly unfruitful
Did she ever matter to me?
Was it her I longed or the chatter of getting to understand her better?
When we grew apart did I ever miss her?
Or was it the need for the constant chatter?
Was this an infatuation that I had or was it just her initial charm that failed to excite me as the seasons passed?
Unsettling thoughts are all I have left and questions that I fail to answer
My mind battles itself to understand whether I was the only heartless or was it her as well
In this toxic cycle of unfaithfulness and chatter only to charm the other
Was I the one in wrong all along?
Or is she no different from me in this cycle of deviousness
Mar 17, 2024
Mar 17, 2024 at 11:51 AM UTC