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.
Pummeled by Parkinson’s,
he battles through the basilica,
leaning forward, heavily,
hunched over, crushed
under an invisible
wooden cross, laden
with the world’s woes;
from the ocean of onlookers,
like Veronica with her veil,
a mother mildly lifts up
her little newborn;
the Holy Father’s
old, wrinkled face
winces with pain,
like a warrior’s,
as he most tenderly
blesses the babe
with a gentle kiss;
the spectators exhale
a halo as they breathlessly
and solemnly sigh, “O!”
In a shadow of deep darkness, the Light
of the world hangs crooked on the cross,
A jagged crown of razor-thin thorns is
thrust maliciously into His throbbing head;
Bright-red blood and the fickle crowd’s
sour spittle trickle into His stinging eyes,
He licks His cracked lips, and He tastes
the bold bitter flavor of blood.
The Roman soldiers’ wild whips tore
and radically ripped Jesus’ holy flesh,
And now the sticky crusted wounds cling
to the weatherbeaten wood and ooze;
Knife-like nails puncture His hands and feet,
and make them look like cored apples,
His shoulders slump down, crushed under
the weight of every sin in human history.
The soldiers hellishly hammered the nails
into Jesus’ flesh, as if He were an animal,
Indescribable pain blasted through the
bones of His body like dynamite;
He now surrenders His body, mind, soul,
and spirit to the will of His Father,
He lovingly practices what He preached,
and He prays for His persecutors.
Jesus is high up, as if atop an isolated
island, surrounded by a sea of hate,
A cacophonous chorus of insults assails
His ears, and the smell of sin is in the air;
His mother, living in the dark night of
unknowing, silently waits and watches,
She kneels in total surrender, while a
sword of sorrow slashes her heavy heart.
In the afternoon, Golgotha is enveloped
in a mysterious murky darkness,
Then, when Jesus dies, the earth quakes
in violent anger at the murder of its Creator;
Rumbling and roaring, buildings catastrophically
crash and crumble to the ground,
The terrifying temblor forces the sanctuary’s
curtain to explosively burst apart.
That mysterious murky darkness remains
in the hearts of Jesus’ faithful followers,
Their entire worlds are seriously shaken,
and they are stunned and stupefied;
But on the third day, the nebulous fog
of uncertainty will finally dissolve,
On the third day, a heavenly ray of Light
will come, far brighter than the sun.
I love you, I love you
so very much,
more than you
can possibly imagine,
yet you carelessly
turn your back on me
and you ignore me,
living your busy life
as if I never existed;
now I kneel here
in this olive garden,
with my warm hands
clasped tightly together,
so deeply and so greatly
in love with you,
and my heart is breaking
because I want to share
my life with you,
my heart is nearly broken
because I love you,
and I painfully weep
hot tears for you,
and my sweat turns into
drops of blood --
all because of you.
It is a passiveness
That brings no peace;
It is an aggressiveness
That silently implodes;
It is blind to the kind,
It destroys all joys,
It chills; for it kills.
The captain loved the anchor
Of his elegant cruise ship,
He utterly adored that anchor,
It was solid silver and gold and
Was decorated with diamonds,
It sparkled in the moonlight,
But then a sudden storm swept
Over the sleepy sea and
So the anchor was lowered --
He clung to her metallic body,
Blinded by his foolish attachment,
Then as the anchor splashed
Into the thirsty black water,
The sharks’ blade-like teeth cut
His flesh like a million daggers,
Mangling his wretched body,
And his soul sank deep into
The bottomless abyss of
The Dark Sea of Doom.
Based on Dante’s Purgatorio
Let’s now take a tour through the Purgatorio
By going back to Dante’s Alighieri’s time,
It’s all about poetic justice over there,
So let the punishment fit the crime!
They start at the base of the mountain,
From sea level they gradually ascend,
On an island surrounded by ocean,
Their souls must gradually mend.
The arrogant carry heavy boulders,
Their proud faces hilariously frowned,
For their weight crushes their bones,
Making a mighty crackling sound.
The envious up on the next level
Are stuck in an emotional rut,
They want to pull their hair out,
For their eyelids have been sewn shut.
The wrathful are on the next level,
Blinded by angry black smoke,
They try to breathe in some oxygen,
But hate makes them gag and choke.
The slothful are sleepy-eyed sluggards,
And yawning’s what they do for fun,
But now they scramble like maniacs,
Though exhausted, they run, run, run.
Next we encounter the greedy misers,
Who lie with their faces in the dust,
As scavengers they searched for money,
Wanting wealth like the upper crust.
As we continue, we see the gluttonous,
They stretch but can’t reach the fruit,
It maddens them, making them crazy,
For their hunger indeed is acute.
Ascending higher, we reach the lustful,
Who leap high through the fiery flames,
They do it to win their freedom,
In the Purgatorial Olympic Games.
On Earth, these souls were very selfish,
And their sins, oh yes, they were many,
Sadly, they chose Justice over Mercy,
So they must pay back every last penny.
Yet they journey up towards Paradise,
Cleansed so much better than soap,
For the Purgatorio is a true blessing,
Since it’s so full of heavenly hope.
Misty grey flakes of melancholy ash
Fall in my dark, gloomy sky as I
Somberly reflect on the approach of
The dreaded and deadly pestilence;
As I examine my life, I realize that
Truly I’ve crucified the Lord of Glory
Through my solitary selfishness and
Through my treacherous tongue;
But after my discipline in the desert,
The Light of the Divine Mercy
Will shine in dazzling brilliance
And quickly warm my cold heart.
Inspired by Venerable Fulton J. Sheen
The divine
sense of humor
makes us laugh,
Without it,
life is just
lived to the half;
We are happy,
and we smile
with good cheer,
For the Lord’s
perfect love
casts out all fear.
Like an aggressive squadron of
Enemy fighter jets, a flurry of
Problems is rapidly approaching
My sector in attack formation;
In my anxiety I am tempted to take
Them on all at once, but, instead,
I veer off to the right and one breaks
Off from the pack and follows me;
I take my adversary into the Light
And he is utterly blinded by it, so
I launch the missiles of patience
And love until he is destroyed;
One by one, I do the same with
The other challenges until, finally,
The spiritual airspace is clear, then
I praise the King of the Universe.
Whispered sweetly, her “yes”
Ripples and reverberates
Through the Halls of Heaven,
And the Spirit speeds through the
Atmosphere in a powerful pulse
Of gleaming, virginal white light
Into the humble House of Gold:
And, behold, The Divine Mercy is
Incarnate.
In the old mission church,
We, faithful pilgrims, are
Packed together tightly
Much like votive candles,
Our weary wicks waiting
To be lit by Our Lady,
With the fire of the Spirit;
It wasn’t the real tilma,
Yet the good God has
No limits whatsoever, so
After mass, I approached,
Not expecting anything —
But when I touched her,
Love’s flame filled me,
And the Divine Mercy
Warmly embraced me.
The Spirit of Love
Awakens in my heart
Like peppermint fire,
Burning away impurities,
Enlightening my mind,
Sweetening my soul.
Forty years in pursuit of
Wealth and worldly respect,
Before you realized
It was all totally worthless;
But you made up for lost time
As the Wonder Counselor
Graciously removed the
Dead weight out of your life
So that you would be free,
Free to follow Him forever;
You generously gave away
Almost all you owned,
And Jesus sweetly filled you
With the fruit of the Spirit;
Like Augustine, too late
Did you know Him, but
Thanks to The Divine Mercy,
It’s never, ever too late
To finally find The Good,
To finally find The True,
To finally find The Beautiful:
God is love.
You were the genius blessed by God
Who spoke of the holy marriage of
Faith and reason, and, indeed,
What a fruitful couple they make.
You were the teacher blessed by God
Who showed that everything we do,
No matter how great or how small,
Should point us towards Heaven.
You were the diplomat blessed by God
Who brought Light to the Franciscan order,
And as the sagacious Seraphic Doctor,
You were an instrument of God’s peace.
Our fruit is very sweet,
And He is very happy,
When we remain attached
To the one true Vine.
Joy warms us with light,
Peace conquers fear,
Patience stops time,
Kindness multiplies smiles.
Generosity feeds the world,
Faithfulness makes us a Church,
Gentleness purifies the heart,
Self-control shuts out darkness.
But Love, yes Love, wondrously
Binds them all together into
Majestic harmony as our souls
Drink of the Lord’s Divine Mercy.
Humility was your middle name,
So at Tepeyac to you she came;
You really didn’t know what to say,
Your only thought was to stop and pray;
You became Our Lady’s holy slave,
Always trustworthy, and very brave;
You saw sweet roses out of season,
The Virgin gave them for a reason;
Then you brought them to the bishop’s place,
The people filled with God’s dazzling grace;
As at your tilma everyone gazed,
The most wondrous sign left all amazed.
Christmas is a time
with bright little toys,
St. Nick rewards good
little girls and boys;
A time for Scrooges
to help those in need,
Baby Jesus came,
and now we are freed;
It’s a jolly season
blessed by The Dove,
The manger is filled
with His Divine Love.
All-powerful,
Most holy,
Most high,
And supreme God,
I am so sorry for hurting you:
I impudently spat upon
Your sorrowful face,
I violently scourged
Your most blessed body,
I scornfully crowned
Your holy head with thorns,
I savagely kicked you
When you fell with the cross,
I cruelly crucified your flesh
With stinging nails;
In short, I have bitterly tortured you
With every single one
Of my sins against you.
I despise and abhor
All my many sins,
Including any in the past
That I’ve withheld from you —
Mortal sins or venial sins —
Or never confessed honestly,
Or forgot about;
And I accuse myself
Of being guilty
Of high treason
Against your Divine Majesty,
Deserving to be executed —
And exiled —
Because my sins offend you,
Lord God,
Who are all good,
Supremely good,
Totally good,
Who alone are good.
You deserve only
My heartfelt love
And blind obedience
To your holy will.
Therefore, I hereby make
This declaration and resolution:
I am absolutely and utterly determined,
Through your sweet holy graces
And your unfathomable divine mercy,
To be your humble and obedient slave,
Through Our Lady,
The Queen of All Hearts,
And to be your faithful servant
Who with promptitude runs away
From the false enticements of all sin,
And the empty allure
Of all temptation.
Instead, I completely surrender myself
Into your warm embrace,
And with a humble heart,
Bountifully overflowing
With sincere thanksgiving
For your magnificent mercy,
I receive your loving
Kiss of peace.
Amen.
Some were very surprised you were
Elected by the College of Cardinals,
Still others thought you were not
Dignified enough for the papacy,
Yet Our Heavenly Father chose you.
With your timid smile and mild speech,
Who would have ever thought that
You would have had the courage and
Strength to convene Vatican II,
Yet Jesus Christ knew you.
In your humility you were obedient,
And like the sweetest little lamb you
Trusted Our Good Shepherd
As He held you in His strong arms,
So the Holy Spirit used you.