TO ST. JAMES THE LESSER, THE APOSTLE by Joe Castorino

You were the first bishop of Jerusalem,

  And were known as James the Just,

As Jesus’ cousin and St. Jude’s brother,

  People knew that you they could trust;

Your knees thickened like a camel’s,

  From all your time kneeling in prayer,

You had a long beard and lots of hair,

  And you always treated people fair.

 

The Jewish leaders failed with St. Paul,

  So they turned their ire towards you,

Their raging revenge was out of control,

  And their delirious desire grew;

They wanted to crush the New Way,

  So they pursued you like angry apes,

Christians were sprouting up everywhere,

  Like vineyards full of plenteous grapes.

 

You bravely refused to reject the Christ,

  So they threw you from the temple’s pinnacle,

Their grotesque expressions were ghastly,

  As they chose to be stubbornly cynical;

Then they hurled jagged stones at you,

  And with a mallet broke your bones,

But you uttered prayers for your attackers,

  In between your painful groans.

TO ST. JUDE THADDEUS THE APOSTLE by Joe Castorino

You had fabulous fun playing with Jesus,

Your second cousin who knew no guile,

You loved to visit His mild mother,

Who always had the sweetest smile;

Through the patient passing of the years,

You saw the magical messiah mature,

And He chose you and your brother James,

To be apostles who strive to be pure;

In loving loyalty your mother agonized,

With Jesus’ mother at the foot of the cross,

Your father Cleophas was monstrously martyred,

And his death was a dire loss;

But you steadfastly served the Lord,

And were famous for physical healing,

You happily sought out holiness,

And spent much time prayerfully kneeling;

In a foreign land you were beaten to a pulp,

Until you were door-nail dead,

But it wasn’t satisfying enough,

So your murderers lopped off your head;

Now you wear a martyr’s golden crown,

And live in Heaven’s perennial jubilation,

Interceding for the Church Militant,

You help it become a new creation.

TO ST. JAMES THE GREATER, THE APOSTLE by Joe Castorino

You were a son of Zebedee and Salome,

  And brother of John the Apostle,

Though your fishing boat was very reliable,

  It was definitely nothing colossal;

You were a fiery fisherman from Galilee,

  And Jesus called you a son of thunder,

Perhaps your anger flared in the boat

  When your brother committed a blunder.

 

You saw Jesus rise at the Ascension,

  And it stirred in you a most pious desire,

Then within your breast burned a glorious zeal

  Which glowed like a holy fire;

But King Herod Agrippa persecuted Christians,

  And wanted them to go away,

He thought that killing a respected apostle

  Would make them cease to pray.

 

It’s very true that King Herod seemed

  Like the most vile and pernicious slug,

He was very much like his grandpa,

  Who killed the holy innocents like a thug;

His wretched grandfather was selfish,

  The very violent Herod the Great,

Who savagely slaughtered the babes of

  Bethlehem in his beastly ire and hate.

 

Being a member of Jesus’ inner circle,

  You had a target on your back,

The giant executioner grunted, as he

  Chopped off your head with a whack;

You became the first apostolic martyr,

  In the year A.D. forty-four,

But Jesus awaited you with a beaming smile,

  As you opened that Heavenly door.

TO ST. JOHN THE APOSTLE by Joe Castorino

Son of Thunder, you requested that Jesus

  Revengefully rain down ferocious flames,

You wanted to get back at those fools from

  Samaria who wouldn’t welcome Him;

But your fisherman’s soul was softened

  By the Savior, as Love taught you to love,

You were transformed by the Transfiguration,

  And you soon became the Apostle of Light.

 

During the Last Supper, you leaned on Love,

  And, alarmed, asked Him about the traitor,

Then, later, you saw the wondrous wounds

  Of Love wash away the world’s guilt;

He gave you His Most Blessed Mother,

  And you cared for her with holy compassion,

You, the Beloved Disciple, bravely and

  Courageously taught us obedience.

 

You were the miraculous martyr who

  Survived a bubbling, boiling cauldron of oil,

Then the Roman Emperor Domitian

  Egregiously exiled you to the isle of Patmos;

Hideous heresies denied Christ’s divinity,

  So you wrote a glorious gospel to refute them,

You were the mild mystic, the peaceful preacher,

  And the unforgettable Apostle of Love.

TO ST. ANDREW THE APOSTLE by Joe Castorino

Your mariner’s heart hungers to know the truth,

  And your saltwater soul is satisfied with John’s words;

But the brave Baptist has spoken of a greater one,

  And you are thinking about what he will be like;

You hope that he will be the promised messiah,

  Who will handily harpoon and sink the Romans;

And you hope he will be the holy and majestic king,

  Who will restore peace and prosperity to his people.

 

One morning the Baptist paternally points towards the

  Shore of the Jordan, at the fearless Fisher of Men;

Your eager eyes are alert as you race after Jesus,

  With sweat dripping from your shaggy beard;

As you reach him, he turns and smiles at you with warm,

  Welcoming eyes, and your heart is mystically awakened;

It feels like a beautiful balmy breeze is sweetly caressing

  The sails of your fisherman’s soul.

TO ST. PAUL by Joe Castorino

You watch with piercing pistol eyes as

  Stephen is brought before the Sanhedrin,

The leaders flog him with false witness,

  And revengefully rush at him;

They drag him outside the city,

  And lay their cloaks at your Pharisaical feet,

Then, with hellish hate, they hurl

  Spear-like stones that crush his body;

Horribly hideous thoughts float through

  The black ocean of your mind,

And you are obdurately obsessed with

  Driving Christianity into total oblivion;

You track and hunt down the Christians

  With dreadful determination,

You throw them into prison,

  Seeking to snuff out the sparks of the New Way.

 

On the dusty road to Damascus,

  You relish your recent conquest over the Christians,

You are smugly satisfied with your success

  Against those religious rebels;

But then there is a blinding flash,

  Infinitely brighter than a bolt of lightning,

Catapulted from your horse,

  You clumsily crash to the ground and collapse;

Then you unmistakably hear that familiar

  Gentle voice of Christ the Courageous,

He tenderly and mercifully asks,

  “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

Suddenly you are struck blind,

  And you are entirely enveloped in darkness,

It appears as if God has blown out the sun,

  As if it were a giant candle in the sky.

 

Pondering and perturbed, you are praying quietly,

  In a home on Straight Street,

Lost in your thoughts, you rhythmically

  Stroke your black mustache and beard;

Your heavy heart weeps in dismay,

  As your brashness has led to your bitter blindness,

Now the hero who was persecuting the rebels

  Is himself converting into a rebel;

Scattered at your feet are the shattered

  Pieces of your old way of life,

A day ago those puzzle pieces all fit together,

  Like the pillars in Solomon’s Portico;

But now a key piece of the puzzle is missing:

  The messianic centerpiece,

You repentantly fast and pray,

  As Ananias approaches with the missing piece.

 

Gazing at the Circus Maximus, you know

  That your time in this world is very short,

As you reflect back upon your life,

  You realize how much you’ve changed;

Through the limitless love of the Lord,

  You have become a very humble man,

And through the Prince of Peace,

  You are filled with the fruits of the Spirit;

After so many years, you long to

  Give the kiss of peace to the saintly Stephen,

You hunger and thirst to embrace your

  Magnificent Messiah, Jesus the Just;

The sun sets in Rome’s crimson sky,

  Surrounded by clusters of woolly clouds,

This flock of lambs is ready to follow

  The shepherd-sun down into Vatican Hill.

TO ST. PETER THE APOSTLE by Joe Castorino

Your fishing boat bobs up

   and down in uncertainty,

As you reflect upon the

   meaning of your life;

With a sterile stare you

   gaze at the wobbly waves,

While the wonderful wind of

   the Spirit is silently approaching;

A merciful Son of Man is

   standing on the sandy seashore,

He is looking for his Rock,

   to make him a fisher of men;

The breeze blows through

   your stubborn dark hair,

As the Son of Man asks if He

   can come aboard your boat.

 

As Jesus ascends, He disappears

   into nebulous misty clouds,

You feel like a floundering

   fisherman without his nets;

Without the Good Shepherd,

   your heart seems hollow,

You now appear more like

   a pebble than a rock;

But later, a deafening wind

   whirls through the room,

And fantastical flaming

   fireballs crown all present;

In divers tongues, all mystically

   praise the good God,

And you proclaim the Word

   with holy courage.

 

As you are cruelly crucified

   upside-down on Vatican Hill,

Your life is brimming with

   meaning and significance;

Your blood falls to the earth

   like a myriad of mustard seeds,

Where the Church will

   take root and grow strong;

You are the first link in

   the precious papal chain,

An unbreakable chain dripping

   with martyrs’ blood;

This chain will withstand

   the hammering of heretics,

It will be like a fruitful vine

   bringing Love to the world.

TO THE HOLY FAMILY by Joe Castorino

Good St. Joseph, you were sent

To be my wise knightly master,

So that through your assistance

I could reach Heaven faster.

Sweet and holy Queen, you are

So kindly patient and so humble,

The dark one terribly hates you,

For you make him trip and stumble.

Babe of the Incarnation, above you

Swirls the immaculate white Dove,

For now God enters His creation

To show the true depth of His Love.

THE KNIGHT by Joe Castorino

Christmas,

The night of Christ,

The breathtaking eve when the

Babe of the Incarnation

Heroically came to save us.

St. Joseph,

The Knight of Christ,

The brave, holy man that the

Babe of the Incarnation

Trusted wholeheartedly.

A FATHER'S PRAYER TO ST. JOSEPH by Joe Castorino

O St. Joseph,

The humble one,

Unite your prayers

To Our Lord Jesus

With those of

The Holy Virgin,

And implore Him

To give each of us

What you gave to

Your Holy Family:

Strength to lead,

Love to inspire,

Wisdom to guide.

Amen.

THE HOLY KNIGHT by Joe Castorino

You are the knight of the Dove,

Who on that Holy Night met Love.

The magi in their wise hands hold

Both sweet frankincense and gold,

But your strong courageous arms

Save Baby Jesus from all harms.

You are the brilliant Star of Light

In Bethlehem’s deep dark night.

Hellishly bloody Herod the Hater

Fears that he’s not the greater,

But you, oh most humble father,

With vainglory don’t even bother.

You are the knight of the Dove,

Who on that Silent Night met Love.

TO ST. JOSEPH by Joe Castorino

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.

OUR LADY OF JOY by Joe Castorino

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.

EASTER AT EMMAUS by Joe Castorino

Our heads hung low,

Saddened and perplexed

By the troubling events just

Three days prior in Jerusalem;

My companion and I were

Searching for the missing piece

Of the Messianic puzzle,

Not realizing that it was less

Than a stone’s throw away;

Then, when we turned around,

We found a man who was both

Wise and friendly, and He too

Was on the road to Emmaus;

As He spoke to us over the

Next several miles, the fire of

Heavenly hope began to rekindle

Within our souls once again,

So we invited Him to sup with us

When we arrived in Emmaus;

After the sun set over the hills,

The stars twinkled with delight as

The Son suddenly rose in our hearts,

For when He broke the bread,

He smiled His very gentle smile, 

And we felt as if we had been

Born again.

THE RESURRECTION by Joe Castorino

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 CRUCIFIXION by Joe Castorino

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.

THE AGONY OF UNREQUITED LOVE by Joe Castorino

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.

THE DARK WEB by Joe Castorino

We excitedly rocket through

cyberspace at supersonic speeds,

obsessively and compulsively

ricocheting back and forth,

from website to website,

magnetically mesmerised

by the alluring amusements of

the information superhighway;

but we are oblivious to the

hideous horrors that lurk

right underneath us as the

black spirit of Sauron stirs

in the giant spider-demons

that track our every move,

creeping and crawling

stealthily through the

slime and stench of

the dark web,

insidiously seeking

to exploit our weaknesses

and drag us deep down

into the infernal abyss.

SMART PHONES by Joe Castorino

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 DARKNESS OF DOOM by Joe Castorino

Act I

There was midnight madness

in the heart of darkness,

where lustful lovers caroused

and burned with wild passion,

and although they were

warned by pilgrims who

were on their way to Rome,

they lived the philosophy

of carpe diem:

they could always repent

tomorrow;

but early in the morning

on the very next day,

an event took place

that forever changed

the world of Pompeii:

it was August 24, 79 AD, and

proud Pompeii was bathed

in warm peaceful sunshine

when the earth began to quake

to the awakening heartbeat

that began to stir deep inside of

the voluptuous Vesuvius,

and here and there the roof tiles

of the stately city of Pompeii

undulated in a rhythmic motion,

up and down, and up and down,

before resting quietly

and slumbering again,

as Vesuvius silently and stealthily

yawned a slow stream of

thin white smoke into the

clear blue sky.

 

Act II

By the afternoon,

there was a light veil

of white smoke that now

draped Vesuvius’ verdant body,

but when she suddenly and

violently erupted in anger,

belching coal-colored smoke

from her crater’s trembling lips

and spewing it high into

the pale blue sky,

it was only a matter of seconds

before flaming black rocks,

like Mephistophelian meteorites,

revengefully rained down

from the swiftly darkening sky,

smashing the roof tiles and

crushing the marble statues

above the villas’ courtyards;

meanwhile, the stunned citizens

scrambled and stumbled around

as the vigorous heartbeat

of the vain Vesuvius

pounded powerfully,

and a cataclysmic earthquake

ripped through Pompeii:

the sleeping giant

was now fully awake;

as the terrified men and women

raised their wild eyes

to the sullen sky,

they screamed like savages

and cursed their pagan gods

for punishing them,

and they spat in the air

at their pathetic gods.

 

Act III

Several hours later,

above the hellish rubble

of this humbled city,

the black sun approached the

black horizon and ominous clouds

suffocated the helpless sky:

Pompeii wailed in pain

and writhed woefully

as the victorious Vesuvius,

bathed in the seductive

red glow of liquid lava,

relentlessly embraced the

city in her hot wrath,

and electric bolts of

volcanic lightning danced

like convulsive demons

and lit up the murky sky

as ashen rain fell feebly

to the flaming ruins below;

maimed dogs howled in horror

at the shockingly surreal and

apocalyptic spectacle,

while the lonely human survivors,

their psyches severely shattered,

huddled together for cover

under the crumbling columns

that were sinking in a sea of

charcoal-gray ashes.

 

Act IV

As the sun slowly rose

the next morning,

the new day dawned with

a deep deafening silence,

and the sickly sun shuddered

as it peered through the

broken black clouds,

lamenting the loss of the

once grand city of Pompeii;

as the scattered survivors

clutched ever so tightly to

their shredded sliver of hope,

it appeared that perhaps the

volcanic storm had finally

exhausted itself,

and the remaining citizens,

with empty expressions

on their blank faces,

slowly and weakly

began the process of

putting the splintered pieces

of their lives back together again;

but in the distance

they suddenly heard a

thunderous roar that

rapidly and frighteningly

crescendoed as it drew nearer,

sounding very much like

a stampede of the gods;

with great trepidation,

the people lifted their

bloodshot eyes and they saw a

massive wall of

whirling gray clouds --

as tall as Vesuvius herself --

rushing madly along the

surface of the ground and

coming right towards them;

it paused momentarily,

as if trying to catch its breath,

before making one last

diabolical attack upon its enemy;

then in a twinkle of time,

the voracious cloud of hot ash

charged through and hungrily devoured

the crumpled carcass

of pitiful Pompeii.

 

Act V

As Time drearily dragged the

morning into afternoon,

the poor Pompeians

were forever frozen

and cemented into history,

buried alive in a twelve-foot

blizzard of blazing ashes;

the solitary sun looked down

sadly upon the waveless

gray ocean of volcanic ash,

and Pompeii was nothing more

than a desolate wasteland --

even the powerful Vesuvius

was left seriously crippled,

with her cone blown off

by the explosiveness of her fury;

when the news of this event finally

reached the imperial city of Rome,

Pope Cletus gathered for mass

with his flock and, together,

they fervently prayed for

the souls of the victims who perished

in the very dark tragedy of

the doomed city of Pompeii.