JUBILEE 2000: BEFORE MASS

As I serenely sit in front of St. Peter’s

  Basilica, I soak in the beauty of the piazza,

I look about my peaceful surroundings,

  Drinking in the delicious glory of God;

Clusters of clouds casually waft by, so low

  That they almost brush the top of the dome,

They pass by like eager pilgrims, Eucharistic

  White against the bright blue sky.

Fresh flowers flow down on the white steps in front

  Of the altar, like a colorful cascading waterfall,

I inhale the perfume of their sweet scent,

  And I breathe in the Lord’s love;

The elegant church bells powerfully and

  Rhythmically ring out God’s grandeur,

While the balmy breeze swirls around me

  And compassionately caresses me.

JUBILEE 2000: ST. PETER'S BASILICA

Reflecting on God’s grandeur, I marvel

  At the beauty that surrounds me,

The statue of the Pietà vibrantly reflects

  The sweet sublimity of God’s mercy;

The nave floats in the swirling, variegated,

  Multi-colored waves of a marble ocean,

And massive pillars of magnificent marble

  Stand at attention like the Swiss Guards.

As the doors silently open, the Holy Father’s

  Vehicle slowly rolls down the aisle,

And in rushes a breeze of heavenly hope

  That placidly fills the sails of our souls;

I stand on my chair and see the saint whose

  Faith defeated the dreary dark night,

As he kisses a babe, love ripples through

  The crowd and rhymes in our hearts.

TO ST. JOSEPH

Your thick, wavy brown hair happily

  Blows in the breeze of God’s will;

Your warm brown eyes twinkle with

  Contentment, crinkling as you smile.

You protect the holy Babe from Herod’s

  Hellish hands, which are dripping with blood;

In obedience, you help the Holy Family

  Evade him and elusively escape to Egypt.

As a worker, you handle the wood of

  God’s creation with gentle strength;

With industrious ingenuity, you use

  God’s good gifts to serve others.

You shatter lustful temptation with your

  Carpenter’s mallet of holy purity;

Then, as God’s valiant soldier, you slay

  Selfishness with the sword of surrender.

In your loving example, you show little Jesus

  how to be a good son to His mother;

With your humble heart, you teach Love

  How to love, and the angels are amazed.

TO ST. MARTHA

You were a wonderful woman of hospitality,

  Anticipating all the guests’ needs,

While your sister sat near the Master,

  As the people He spiritually feeds;

But your mind was whirling with worry,

  Shackled by a million trifling things,

Meanwhile, the Word spoke of true freedom

  That lifted people’s souls with wings;

That day you learned an important lesson:

  First things always come first,

If we drink of the Lord’s living water,

  Then for the world we will never thirst.

THE DAY TRADER

Ignoramus Maximus is his name,

And playing the stock market is his game;

With a dark ghoulish smile and fiendish eye,

Greed burns inside him and will never die;

He listens to the experts on TV,

Many are blind guides who can’t even see;

As the stock market climbs to all new highs,

He trades hundreds of stocks of every size;

Thinking of nothing but buying and selling,

His addictive life is very telling;

To the god of riches does he succumb,

So that his sick brain becomes very numb;

But seeing his statement, he starts to choke,

He finally learns he’s totally broke.

WINE-BAR WARRIORETTES

These women are ready for

war in the new age of

Endarkenment.

Like crafty cunning soldiers,

they’ve strategically

painted on their camouflage,

makeup that will make up

for their physical flaws,

allowing them to be invisible --

an ingenious cloaking device

to hide from their enemies.

They arm themselves with

poison gas, perfume packed with

pleasing and alluring aphrodisiacs

to force the enemy to surrender.

They proudly don their battle gear,

skimpy skin-tight tops and

magnetic miniskirts

that hypnotically mesmerize

the hapless men,

holding captive their

helpless eyes.

The opposite of love is

not hate but

use.

THE BEAUTY

Bruttina’s looks were very appealing,

But that’s not the way that she was feeling;

So into a mohawk she cut her hair,

Like a hard-boiled egg, it was very bare;

Then she slopped mascara on her eyes,

Until they looked like little black french fries;

She injected her lips to make them thick,

Then caked on some radical red lipstick;

I so wish she didn’t care about fashion,

And would show herself sincere compassion.

LANCELOT LOVERBOY

Lancelot Loverboy was his true name,

Pornography was his heart-thumping game;

Peeking at pics of sexy Doll Tearsheet,

His big burning eyes turned red as a beet;

But the more he looked at girls who were hot,

The more his eyes swelled, and larger they got;

And like Pinocchio’s long wooden nose,

Each one of his eyeballs just grows and grows;

Lancelot’s lewd obsession never stopped,

Then like a balloon each eye loudly popped;

He listened to Emotion’s lustful lies,

So that’s why Loverboy finally dies.

SMART PHONES

These little electronic

beasts

have insatiable

app-etites.

Like possessive pets,

they feast on my

attention --

they demand that I

stroke them and pet them,

constantly,

more and more and more,

until I’m dazed and confused and

technologically schmoozed.

And then,

when I least expect it,

their sleek semiconductors

swallow my sleepy

soul.

THE CHEMISTRY OF REVOLUTIONS

A Circular Poem with No Beginning and No End 

                    revolution?

it all starts when the

emotional electrons of

selfishness and fear

crash and collide,

thereby causing a chain reaction

that sparks the pulsating protons

and irascible ions of

savage seething anger and of

horribly hellish hate,

and this in turn ignites the

molecules of misery that

electrically explode into

woeful wailing wars and

dreadful devastating death;

but the question is this:

will there ever be

an end to

THE RESURRECTION

I turn around and before me you stand,

  one whose robe is dazzlingly white,

As you speak my name and say “Mary,”

  you forever shatter my deep dark night;

With great love, you bestow your peace upon me,

  through your wonderfully warm brown eyes,

Your merciful smile cheers my heart,

  so that my soul can most sweetly arise;

In the joyful breeze of the Holy Spirit,

  your flowing hair very gently swirls,

In my heart I totally surrender to you,

  and for you this is a treasure of pearls.

THE ROSARY: SPIRALING IN LOVE

 A Circular Poem with No Beginning and No End

             He leads me

back to you once more,

and I am awed by your

breathtaking beauty,

for you are full of gladness

and wondrous gracefulness,

with the truth shining forth

from your humble heart,

you are filled to the brim with

the sweet wine of wisdom,

your fruit is bountifully blessed,

feeding a famished world;

you tenderly take my hand

and lead me towards the Light,

for you are the morning star

that generously gave birth to the Light,

the smiling sun warms me

with radiant rays of love,

and then

THE LITTERBUG

Stupidus Idiotus is his name,

Or call him Litterbug -- it’s just the same;

He wipes the mess off his ketchup-stained shirt,

And drops his wrapper right into the dirt;

A stroll to the trash can is just too far,

So he tosses the bottle from his car;

But here is a fact pondered by the wise,

That Litterbug wears a sneaky disguise;

In truth, he’s very hard for us to see,

He actually looks just like you and me.

A NEW CREATION

When I wave the white flag

in the serene surrender of prayer,

I allow the water of my soul

to be poured freely into

His chalice of gold;

there I am baptized by Love

and born again,

transformed by the Transfigured,

changed forever by the sweet

new wine of the Spirit.

TO ST. PADRE PIO

 When we, your stubborn spiritual children,

Don’t listen to you in holy confession,

You slap the Spirit into our sleepy souls,

As you make prayerful intercession.

When we plan to drop the blitzkrieg bombs

Of mortal sin into our desperate heart,

You bilocate and bravely speak the truth,

And the holy fear of God to us impart.

When the evil one stealthily attacks us,

Aggressively seeking victims to devour,

As a warrior, you heroically hunt him down,

And lasso the beast with Rosary power.

OUR LADY OF JOY

As she serenely stepped out of the upper

  room, she rejoiced in a fresh new day,

She looked about her peaceful surroundings,

  drinking in the delicious goodness of God;

Clusters of clouds casually wafted by, so low

  that they brushed the pinnacle of the temple,    

They passed by like eager pilgrims, Eucharistic

  white against the bright blue morning sky;

Later that morning, she and the Apostles were

  deeply immersed in prayer when, suddenly,

She inhaled the sweet scent of God’s presence,

  and joyfully breathed in the Lord’s love;

The balmy breeze of grace swirled around her

  and compassionately caressed her,

She reflected on God’s glorious grandeur,

  and His magnificence soaked into her soul;

Then, the Word rushed through them all,

  as the Holy Spirit swiftly swooped down,

The bold beautiful breeze of heavenly hope

  placidly filled the sails of their souls;

The Paraclete, like a powerful, whirling wind,

  spectacularly sparked the wicks of their

Souls, and ignited the fire of love, which

  rippled through and rhymed in their hearts;

Then, Our Lady’s heart was passionately,

  preciously pierced by the sweet sword

Of the Spirit; her soul, suddenly

  brimming with God’s majestic mercy,

Soared in a spiraling celestial

  crescendo of God’s love for her;

With peaceful confidence, her heart,

  like a fiery supernova, exploded with

Feelings of love, joy, and peace,

  of patience, kindness, and generosity;

Her smiling eyes then beheld the

  flaming fire of Love resting on all, and as                                                           

She serenely surrendered all to the Spirit,

  like a giddy geyser she gushed

Torrents of light-hearted laughter

  and happy, heavenly tears; this golden

Cascade of pure love poured over

  her soul like a warm, wonderful

Waterfall of holy honey; deep down

  inside, the Spirit was strumming on

The harmonic harp of her heart, and

  she was deliciously, delightfully deluged

By this overwhelming ocean of her

  Jesus’ magnificent mercy and love;

The Light of the World had scattered

  and defeated the dreary dark night.

THE LIMOUSINE

As she opens the door of the

luxurious limousine,

with quivering, slender,

inexperienced fingers,

she ever so briefly

hesitates.

But before logic can stop her,

she rashly swings open the door of

emotion, and dives in before

reason can stop her.

The car abruptly speeds off,

and her body falls backwards

onto the long bench seat

which is as bouncy as a mattress;

she looks down and is disturbed

to see that her new white dress is

soiled by oily french fries

that are sprawled everywhere;

alarmed, she jerks her body

spasmodically

and knocks over an unseen

plastic cola cup,

and its black liquid --

its pop and fizz long gone --

splashes onto her lily flesh.

The depraved driver leers at her

while whispering lewd words that

slither like a serpent

out of his mouth,

creeping and seeping into

her virgin ears,

maliciously coiling around her

brain, before steadily injecting

their poisonous venom

into her mind.

Depressed and disappointed,

she slowly, sluggishly

exits the vehicle,

feeling used,

like a throwaway,

like the limo’s black exhaust.

TRAVELING AT THE SPEED OF STUDENTS

In years past, students could focus more on learning,

Reading was something for which they were yearning,

Page after glorious page of the classics they were turning.

ButNowIt’sGradesGradesGradesNothingButGrades,

WithMoreHomeworkMoreTermPapersAndNoParades,

There’sMoreFrustrationMoreFearAndTheirEnergyFadesAnd

TRAVELING AT THE SPEED OF PROGRESS

Before modern technology, time moved very slow,

Life was about life, not just earning some dough,

It was nice to stop and feel the whispering wind blow.

ButNowProgressPushesAndPushesToDizzyingHeights,

AndIt’sNothingButFastFoodAndThenWorkingLateNights,

GluttonousTechnologyEatsFatherTimeWithMegaBitesAnd

MIRROR OF JUSTICE

Heavenly Queen, just as God’s flaming

  Fire blazed in the bush on Mt. Horeb;

So the Spirit gloriously glows like a candle

  Inside you as baby Jesus is conceived.

His Divine Majesty fills you bountifully

  With the finest of all fruits;

More valuable than millions of mountains

  Of glistening gold nuggets.

As the beautiful Babe is born, the Light

  Of the world shines forth in a remarkable way;

In heavenly humility, the sweet Savior

  Shines as the miraculous Morningstar.

Modest, mild Mother of God, you are

  A precious, priceless pearl of purity;

Pray that, like you, I may find rest on

  The ineffable, indelible isle of innocence.