OUR LADY OF DIVINE MERCY

Trembling, I hid in your mantle, protected

  From the dark night of unknowing;

You guided me up the steep, perilous path,

  Towards the sparkling, starry heavens.

The demonic winds gusted, and with

  Frightful ferocity thunder shook the air;

Serpentine lightning darted in the sky, and

  Lava streams slithered down the slopes.

But then the Sun of God dazzlingly dawned,

  And He put an end to the dark night;

Beams of bright light, both red and white,

  Streamed soothingly into my soul.

Atop the summit, you took my hand,

  And together we flew into the Light;

We laughed like merry little children,

  Soaking in the sunshine of pure Mercy.

TRAVELING AT THE SPEED OF COURTSHIP

In centuries past, courtships took more time,

Holding hands was special and a little kiss sublime,

The merging of two hearts: as one they would rhyme.

ButNowIt’sHookUpsWithStrangersAndLotsOfAbuse,

APrettierGirlWalksByAndThenIt’sTimeToVamoose,

It’sMeaninglessSexSexSexTillThey’reDeadInANooseAnd

INFERNO ISLAND

A Sequel to “The Lady of Stellamare” 

Overture

“This is the prophecy of

  The island of spice:

Beware of the wicked wench

  Who seeks to entice.”

Act I

(The scene opens on Inferno Island. Malvanero has arrived a day after Paolesco, and has just awakened from an exhaustive sleep. He is alone, chiding himself.)

Idiot!

I waited too long;

I simply waited too long!

I should’ve followed

my passions

when they were hot,

acting more quickly,

and more boldly.

I should’ve followed

my first raw instinct.

I’ll have revenge

on Paolesco,

I’ll have revenge

on Florian,

I’ll have revenge

on the whole pack of them!

This stinking, wretched isle

must be Inferno Island,

though it’s far from being

the supposed paradise

that I heard it was.

The terrain is dark and desolate,

twisted and torn,

savagely split apart unlike

any island I’ve ever seen,

with a forlorn fog

encircling this murdered mountain

like a shattered halo.

I remember seeing this island

from Mai Tornar,

with the cratered eye of

its volcano glowing red,

and a ring of fire

marking the perimeter

of the island.

But how bizarre

this isle really is --

to be quite honest,

this peculiar place

would make

most people shudder

with fear.

Black as night,

the raging storm

still swirls above me

but is strangely mute,

with no thunder at all.

The volcano now appears dead

and the beach surrounding

the isle shows no signs

at all of fire, and is as silent

and lifeless as the grave.

The lightning is constant

with its pale, deathly light,

creating an eerie atmosphere

in this land of darkness.

If I didn’t believe in

such rubbish,

I would say this island

almost looked haunted.

Act II

After Paolesco escaped with the Lady,

  The Dark One’s anger began to flare,

The pretty island’s face painfully writhed,

  As it exhaled a sickly stench into the air;

The false paradise powerfully quaked and its

  malevolent skin became heavily scarred,

It transformed into a dark, wicked wasteland,

  Whose grisly visage was blackly charred.

Then, Malvanero groggily awoke

  On its cadaverous black-sand beach,

Dagger-like lightning bolts lit his path,

  And shelter he was hoping to reach;   

The vomited lava flow had hardened,

  But it was still warm under his feet,

He was all alone in this ghastly place,

  So his heart was drumming a beat.

In the gloom, he saw the mouth of a cave

  And it was bursting with fiery light,

Standing in the midst of murky black mud,

  He began to hear shrieks of utter delight;

He silently and stealthily peeked inside,

  Not very sure of what he would see,

Dozens and dozens of merry maidens

  Danced convulsively with reckless glee.

Looking inside, there was an immense cavern,

  With flames seductively bright,

Lava cascaded smoothly down the walls,

  Like a bubbling curtain of red light;

Spear-like stalactites of ice jutted out,

  In the colors of a dazzling rainbow,

And everything which Malvanero observed

 Was bathed in the most enchanting glow.

The large chamber had a circular base,

  And the lava flowed into a moat,

Transporting passengers back and forth

  Was a grand and luxurious boat;

This moat ringed around a huge tropical forest,

  Its trees loaded with the juiciest fruit,

And the song of the siren-like girls

  Sweetened the sensual strings of a lute.

Malvanero breathed in the scent of spices

  And was captivated by its lovely perfume,

But then he noticed a flaming black altar

  Was located in the dead center of the room;

Dozens of magic maidens erotically danced,

  Filled with electric ecstasy around the altar,

They spasmodically writhed in wild delight

  Until their girlish strength began to falter.

There was not a single man to be seen,

  It was a world of the most beautiful girls,

Their colorful dresses were short and tight,

  And they all had long hair and curls;

Suddenly, one of the maidens leaped up --

  She was playful and seemed ready for fun,

Nerina screamed with joy, “Look up, girls!

  That handsome man must be The One!”

Act III  

(Thaliela, the Queen of the Dark Fairies, is alone in a her throne room, a private subterranean chamber on Inferno Island, and she is standing in front of her throne. Speaking to her master, The Dark One, she tries to convince him that all will still be well.)

O Dark One!

So far your plan

has worked

like a charm,

and your control of

the Sea of Shadows

has brought us

our victim,

Malvanero --

so far

he has suspected

nothing.

When he appeared

at the mouth of

the cavern,

Nerina caught sight of him

with her alert eyes

and drew our attention

towards him.

The music ceased,

and I invited him

to descend the steps,

down, down, down,

until he reached the

cavern floor.

I crossed the lava moat

with the royal barge,

accompanied by Nerina

and a few other maidens.

He bowed his head

and introduced himself,

and, as the queen, I regally

and elegantly did the same.

He was taken aback

by my stunning beauty

and my enticing charm.

There is no question

that I am the

most radiant and the

most voluptuous

among us,

and Malvanero could not

keep his eyes off of me.

So I opportunely

took one of his

arms and

wrapped it,

snugly and

sensually,

around my slender

and shapely waist.

But I did so

in such a way that

my warm, perfumed

hair was brushing against his

flushed cheek.

Then I surprised him --

so insidious that I am --

and suddenly I held him

tight in my invincible arms and

kissed him,

long and hard,

with my spiced lips,

and we clung together,

with his heart pounding violently

with the strongest palpitations

against my curvaceous and

seductive body.

I captivated him

with my goddess-like eyes --

my green eye gazed intently

into his defenseless

brown eyes,

while I began to

subtly and stealthily

secrete red lava into my

bewitching black eye.

Ever so slowly,

and ever so gradually,

the hot red lava

hypnotically oozed and

blended together and

my left eye became a

magnetic, mesmerizing

tornado of swiftly swirling

black and red.

Malvanero appeared

quite smitten,

but after the incident

involving Paolesco,

I was not going to

leave anything to

chance this time.

So with full

flirtatious force,

I playfully and

smilingly led him

across the moat

and through the fateful forest

of tropical fruit trees,

slowly sauntering towards the

black altar of pleasure.

In the meantime,

the other magic maidens

giggled and whispered

among each other,

with great anticipation.

Then the two of us

sat down under the trees,

while the rest of the

magic maidens watched

me spin a tangled web

for my victim.

They observed from a

safe enough distance

in order to give us

sufficient privacy --

to avoid interference

of any kind --

so through the bushes

and around trees

they all sat there,

dumbfounded,

at my ability to

coquettishly tease Malvanero

and lasciviously lure him

into the jaws of my trap.

His heart,

like a budding flower

in winter,

opened too soon,

too rashly --

as is Malvanero’s nature --

and the frost of

foul play

began to freeze

his sense of reason.

He squinted his eyes,

scrunched his mouth

into a wry smile,

and said,

“I intercepted a

letter from

a man I despise,

and in it he spoke

of this island

as if he were a

stupid, superstitious fool --

one who is spooked

and afraid of

his own shadow.”

I winced,

for I knew he referred to Paolesco,

but immediately

I regained my composure

before he could notice

anything at all --

he was busy looking

around and marveling

at his tantalizing surroundings.

Then I saw

my chance and

wasted no time

in strategically

making my move.

I quickly replied,

“As you can clearly see,

Inferno Island is a

paradise of pleasures,

so just relax

and let go --

the only thing

that matters here is

to feel!”

Malvanero smiled

a very broad smile,

and, as he chuckled,

his glance danced

back and forth,

from my swirling eye

to my stationary one.

On the soft grass,

I slowly reclined into

an arousing supine position

and smiled back at him.

I looked intently

into his eyes again

and the swirling eye

spun around even faster

with excitement.

Then I asked him,

“Would you like

some fruit?”

All of the other

magic maidens

held their breath and

awaited his response.

His face fell,

as if he had suddenly

pricked himself with

a sharp blade --

he was overcome by

a profound fear —

a fear which he tried to hide —

and he stumbled

terribly over his

words as he

tried to come up with

an excuse.

But with an alluring,

irresistible voice

I persisted

and asked him,

“Surely you’re not afraid --

are you, Malvanero?

“Why, my love,

it’s impossible

that a handsome, brave,

and passionate man

like you

would be afraid

of anything!”

With that,

my wanton body

slithered stealthily over

that of his own,

and then he found his face

immersed in the

serpentine ringlets

of my clustered curls

and the wild, wicked whirl

of my cascading dark hair.

My perfumed breath

was indescribably delicious,

and his self-control

was noticeably weakening --

he appeared emotionally chained

by the poison pride that

strongly surged within him.

I looked at the

multicolored fruit

in the tree above us,

then I stood up and

chose one that dangled,

as if hanging by a noose,

over his head.

The one that I picked was

of a bright, fiery red,

very round, and

very, very ripe.

I placed it into his hands,

its sticky juice bleeding

in profusion over

his quivering fingers.

Again, there was a hush

among the maidens,

and the whole island

seemed to be still.

Breathing faster,

he looked at the fruit

in his hands --

I suspect that Paolesco

must have said something

about the danger of

the fruit on this island,

because he turned very pale.

He was frozen

with uncertainty

for a moment,

but he was no match

for me.                                            

I persuasively urged him,

“Here… take this, Malvanero...

taste and enjoy

its remarkable flavor,

for you must be hungry.”

Then I drew near

to his left ear and

whispered,

even more softly,

“This luscious fruit

will help you relax,

and it will make our

time together

even more memorable.”

Suddenly,

he made his

decision.

He bit into the fruit,

with reckless abandon,

and I could see that

its fragrant flesh was

strikingly flavorful.

Then he bit into it

again,

and again,

and yet again,

as if eating it faster

might somehow

protect him.

He was giddy with delight

and soon said that it felt as if

his body had been placed in a

warm pool of melting sugar,

and he said he was experiencing

very intense pleasure. 

I stood up and then

pulled him to his feet,

but he appeared

just a bit dizzy --

then, as I looked into his eyes,

I could see the potion

already taking effect:

his left eye was beginning

to swirl black and red,

and his right eye was

turning sea green.

The maidens watched with a

feeling of euphoria,

because they knew now

what was coming.

I led him towards

the flaming black altar

and said,

“My dear Malvanero,

now all your dreams

will come true --

let us go together

into the fires of pleasure

on the black altar,

and there we will both

experience pleasures

more intense than

you could ever have believed

in your wildest imagination!”

He stepped up onto

the black altar of pleasure

and then reclined on it --

as the flashing flames

surrounded his body

and enveloped it,

he was overcome by

an ecstasy that completely

overwhelmed him.

Act IV

As he rested on the dark black altar,

  Malvanero’s body tingled with restless delight,

Here on the flaming altar of pleasure,

  His ecstasy peaked at an all-time height;

But this dream darkened into a nightmare

  That for him meant certain doom,

It started with the war drums’ thunder --

  Boom baba-boom baba-boom!

The altar flames flared exceedingly high,

  Pulsating to the pounding drumbeat,

Pain exploded through poor Malvanero

  With each and every heartbeat;

His bones were blasted by ongoing bursts

  Of scorching, unquenchable fire,

There was no question at all in his mind

  That his situation was really quite dire.

He screamed and wailed in utter agony,

  Writhing horribly on the altar of black,

The magic maidens happily looked on,

  Assembling quickly into a large pack;

They screeched with fiendish laughter,

  As if he were an insect in a trap,

Queen Thaliela had been totally victorious,

  And so, they all loudly started to clap.

He tried to escape with all his might,

  But he was locked inside of the flames,

He was imprisoned on the black altar,

  Yet for the maidens it was fun and games;

But then something very peculiar occurred,

  And his stomach felt strangely sour,

Malvanero vomited black-and-red blood,

  And this lasted for almost an hour.

For minute after minute he suffered,

  Painfully squirming all around,

Then he collapsed from sheer exhaustion,

  Without making a single sound;

The cavern was filled with a vile stench,

  And a foul grey fog filled the air,

Malvanero was nearing his inevitable death,

  But the magic maidens didn’t care.

Surrounding the burning black altar,

  There was a ring of fiery spears,

Thaliela grimly grabbed the closest one,

  And then trebled were all his fears;

With her wild left eye spinning madly,

  She raised the spear over her head,

Swinging it down, she skewered his skull,

  And Malvanero would soon be dead.

The spear pierced through both of his ears,

  And flaring fire flashed from each eye,

Blood then gushed out of both of his ears,

  and they all knew he was going to die;

Malvanero uttered a terrifying scream

  As he blurted out his bloody breath;

So the maidens moved him under a guillotine

And this would be the last stroke of Death.

But this special guillotine was like no other,

For it wasn’t meant to lop off a head;

Instead it would cleave from head to foot,

So Malvanero filled with horror and dread;

As the rope flew up, the blade sped down,

Slicing his skull and body in right in half;

Then, Thaliela saw a wavelike flood of blood,

And exhaled a malicious, discordant laugh.

Act V

(A booming bass voice so shook the cave that even the magic maidens were suddenly terrified. The Dark One’s voice was unmistakable.)

I spit at thee,

Malvanero,

for you are an ignorant fool —

you have paid for your stupidity,

since you are an unworthy citizen

from the land of the hated one --

I spit at your king!

But, Thaliela,

now you too will be punished

as Malvnero was,

on the black altar of pleasure,

for your failure in capturing Paolesco,

for your failure in capturing the candle,

for your failure in capturing the scroll —

you miserable wretch,

I am irked to no end that you

allowed him to escape,

so now you too will experience

a nightmarish death.

Nerina, you will now

take over as queen

of the magic maidens —

but, beware! —

for if you should fail me,

you too will taste bloody death!

Fear me, for I will overwhelm you;

Fear me, for I will terrorize you;

Fear me, for I will conquer you,

Fear me, for I hate you,

I Fear!

I Hate!

Epilogue

“If you fail to learn self-control,

Then it will be too late,

You will die a slave of Fear,

And also Eternal Hate.”

THE KISS IN THE DARK NIGHT

As I awaken in the

Dark Night,

The swirling, twirling

Tempest of menacing fear

Violently threatens to

Throttle me.

But brimming with

The Messiah’s magnificent mercy,

Our Lady appears and

Gazes at me with a

Sweet, serene smile

And sparkling aquamarine eyes;

Then, with her soft, rosy lips,

She wonderfully warms my cheek

With a pure, gentle, loving

Kiss.

Suddenly the surging

Tornado of terror

Silently ceases as

The Spirit

Blows in the breeze

And soars through

My soul.

OUR LADY OF THE ROSARY

When I squeezed the rosary with my

  Tense fingers, my soul was bone dry;

I prayed too fast, as if trying to speed

  Through Death Valley at high noon.

I pitched my prayers with fear, and they

  Wildly eluded the spiritual strike zone;

It was as though they were frantically

  Fired from a rickety machine gun.

Then you taught me how to pray, Madonnina,

  More slowly, and more meaningfully;

I peacefully sprinkled the rosary throughout

  The morning, watering my soul’s garden.

I threw sizzling strikes with love, which you

  Crisply caught and brought to Jesus;

As God’s holy warrior, Padre Pio spoke the

  Truth: “Lord, give me my weapon.”

OXYGEN

Prayer is the

spiritual oxygen of the

soul;

without it,

the soul is insidiously

strangled by

pernicious possessions and

oh, so sadly, it

suffocates.

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.