6.19.2014

The power of women

There were 11 people – ten men and one woman – 
hanging onto a rope that came down from a helicopter.

They all decided that one person should get off, 
because if they didn’t, the rope would break and everyone would die.

No one could decide who should go, 
so finally, the woman gave a really touching speech saying how she would give up her life 
to save the others, 
because women were used to giving up things for their husbands and children, 
giving in to men, 
and not receiving anything in return.

When she finished speaking, all the men started clapping.



6.13.2014

Little Flower

It seems to me that if a little flower could speak, 
it would tell simply all what God has done for it 
without trying to hide its blessings. 

It would not say, 
under the pretext of a false humility, 
it is not beautiful or without perfume, 
that the sun has taken away its splendor 
and the storm has broken its stem 
when it know that all this is untrue. 

The flower about to tell her story
rejoices at having to publish 
the totally gratuitous gifts of Jesus. 

She knows that nothing in herself 
was capable of attracting the divine glances, 
and His mercy alone brought about 
everything that is good in her.

Thérèse de Lisieux

5.18.2014

Six words

It is said that the shortest story ever told was 
written by the then young Ernest Hemingway, 
who said he could write a complete story in 
only six words!

His colleagues disagreed, 
and each bet $10 against the claim.

Hemingway wrote down the words on a napkin
and passed it around.

Everyone agreed that he won the bet.

Here is the shortest story ever told:

For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.

5.11.2014

I believe…


Lord,
I will never know or understand
You or Your ways.

Your birth or death
Heaven or Grace
Miracles or exclusive love of all
And especially - Resurrection.

Instead I believe. 
As carefully as the cupbearer
That serves Your blood 
At the Sabbath sacred meal.

let it go

let it go - the
smashed word broken
open vow or
the oath cracked length
wise - let it go it
was sworn to
go

let them go - the
truthful liars and
the false fair friends
and the boths and
neithers - you must let them go they
were born
to go

let all go - the
big small middling
tall bigger really
the biggest and all
things - let all go
dear

so comes love

e.e. cummings

5.04.2014

Everything is Different Now


Peter was hurt
because of the Boss’s repeated questions.

Who could blame him?
We want to be forgiven
As quick as possible.

And Peter in a passive-aggressive manner states:
“You know what the answer is,
But I will say it again and again until You stop:
I love You.”

Then, like that day in Caesarea Philippi
The Master after hearing the answer
He was searching for
Told Peter of the path ahead.

Again with murder
and glorification.

But unlike the first time,
With his outburst and the Master’s rebuke,
Peter humbly obeys the command:
Follow Me.

Yes, Peter was born again ,
But he wasn’t born again yesterday.

Best in City

Now my ice cream truck is painted like a cheerful Panzer tank,
with a freezer full of ices and a fylfot on the flank.
And the music box is set up --hey, it's not against the law!--
to play 'Deutschland Uber Alles' after 'Turkey in the Straw'.
And although I scorn the Untermensch, the deviant, the Jew:
I tell them so politely, and I serve them ice cream too.

But so narrow-minded are they (so unethical as well!)
that they seldom come to sample the fine ice cream that I sell!
Nor even will they enter into rational debates
scheduled daily in my ice cream truck with all my skinhead mates.
So you see, it's a rankest prejudice -- as blatant as it's shitty --
that my fine all-natural ice cream has not yet won "Best In City".


FROM A COMMENT SECTION - COMMENTER LIGHTHILL

4.27.2014

Seek Your Servant


O Lord, 
Omniscient One.


You who knows what
the internet can't record.


The actions,
            victories,
                       and defeats
of the eternal war
between the spirit and the bone. 


O One,
who does not forget
His own,
I humbly repeat
your cross-mate's request
"Remember me."

Lenten Thoughts Of A High Anglican

Isn't she lovely, "the Mistress"?
With her wide-apart grey-green eyes,
The droop of her lips and, when she smiles,
Her glance of amused surprise?

How nonchalantly she wears her clothes,
How expensive they are as well!
And the sound of her voice is as soft and deep
As the Christ Church tenor bell.

But why do I call her "the Mistress"
Who know not her way of life?
Because she has more of a cared-for air
Than many a legal wife.

How elegantly she swings along
In the vapoury incense veil;
The angel choir must pause in song
When she kneels at the altar rail.

The parson said that we shouldn't stare
Around when we come to church,
Or the Unknown God we are seeking
May forever elude our search.

But I hope that the preacher will not think
It unorthodox and odd
If I add that I glimpse in "the Mistress"
A hint of the Unknown God. 

John Betjeman

Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth

Everyone wants to understand painting. 

Why don’t they try to 
understand the song of the birds? 

Why do they love a night, a flower, 
everything which surrounds man, 
without attempting to understand them? 

Whereas where painting is concerned, 
they want to understand. 

Let them understand above all 
that the artist works from necessity; 
that he, too, 
is a minute element of the world 
to whom one should ascribe no more importance 
than so many things in nature 
which charm us but which we do not explain to ourselves. 

Those who attempt to explain a picture are on the wrong track 
most of the time.

 Pablo Picasso
Boisgeloup, winter 1934

4.22.2014

Easter Day

THE silver trumpets rang across the Dome:  
  The people knelt upon the ground with awe:  
  And borne upon the necks of men I saw,  
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.  
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,         
  And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,  
  Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:  
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.  

My heart stole back across wide wastes of years  
  To One who wandered by a lonely sea,  
  And sought in vain for any place of rest:  
“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,  
  I, only I, must wander wearily,  
  And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.”

Oscar Wilde 

The Gift

(Easter meditation)

I

What are you doing with 
this resurrection life you have been given?

What are you doing now that
sin is dead?

What are you doing now that
death is not the victor?

What are you doing with 
this resurrection life you have been given?

II
What are you doing with 
this resurrection life you have been given?

What are you doing now that
Love has replaced the Law?

What are you doing now that
the last will be first?

What are you doing with 
this resurrection life you have been given?

III
What are you doing with 
this resurrection life you have been given?

What are you doing now that
you are a new creation?

What are you doing now that
you do not regard anyone with a worldly view?

What are you doing with 
this resurrection life you have been given?

4.15.2014

Passion Play

(Good Friday Meditation)

“Surely it is not I, Surely it is not I”
“I have written what I have written.”
“I do not know, I do not know, I do not know him!”
“Crucify, crucify, crucify, crucify him.”

The Director halts this repetitive babble,
with his signature line:
“It is finished.”

The curtain rips and falls,
and the cast and crew
wonder if this is
the final act
of their careers. 

All the Kingdoms of the World

(Second temptation of Christ)

‘So here’s the deal and this is what you get:

The penthouse suite with world-commanding views,


The banker’s bonus and the private jet


Control and ownership of all the news


An ‘in’ to that exclusive one percent,


Who know the score, who really run the show


With interest on every penny lent 


And sweeteners for cronies in the know.


A straight arrangement between me and you


No hell below or heaven high above


You just admit it, and give me my due


And wake up from this foolish dream of love…’


But Jesus laughed, ‘You are not what you seem.


Love is the waking life, you are the dream.’


Malcolm Guite


3.30.2014

Release

At this particular place, what you’re seeing, essentially, is the process that had widened that valley over the last [glacial period]. … What you’re seeing is a landscape still recovering from glaciations. It’s a 15,000-year hangover." 
***Geologist on the Washington mudslides

O Mother Earth,

you still remember 
how the ice cut you

 and never forgot
the rape of your trees

while ignoring
 the houses of the
recent arrivals.

Did you feel the
small tremor 
 from 
the False Pass fault
coming through 
your saturated limbs
that
triggered you to
abandon your
show of strength 
and 
caused you to be
 fully separated 
from your weaknesses.



The First Night


         The worst thing about death must be
          the first night.
--Juan Ramón Jiménez

Before I opened you, Jiménez,
it never occurred to me that day and night
would continue to circle each other in the ring of death,

but now you have me wondering
if there will also be a sun and a moon
and will the dead gather to watch them rise and set

then repair, each soul alone,
to some ghastly equivalent of a bed.
Or will the first night be the only night,

a darkness for which we have no other name?
How feeble our vocabulary in the face of death,
How impossible to write it down.

This is where language will stop,
the horse we have ridden all our lives
rearing up at the edge of a dizzying cliff.

The word that was in the beginning
and the word that was made flesh—
those and all the other words will cease.

Even now, reading you on this trellised porch,
how can I describe a sun that will shine after death?
But it is enough to frighten me

into paying more attention to the world’s day-moon,
to sunlight bright on water
or fragmented in a grove of trees,

and to look more closely here at these small leaves,
these sentinel thorns,
whose employment it is to guard the rose.
  
 Billy Collins

3.23.2014

Awake O Sleeper



I don't know
why I am trying
to answer her
rhetorical question
as I cringe from the sight
of the string
of bloody floss.

The bright lights.
The rubber fingers. 
The salty blood.

Maybe it's 
one of the few
times in life when 
one is fully exposed
by their negligence.

And at the end,
I pause at the front desk
to schedule
my next confessional.

The Definition of Sin

Sin is an offense against 
reason, 
truth, 
and right conscience.

It is a failure 
in genuine love for 
God and neighbor 
caused by a 
perverse attachment to certain goods. 

It wounds the nature of man 
and injures human solidarity. 
It has been defined as
an utterance, a deed, or a desire contrary to the eternal law.

Sin is an offense against God:
 "Against you, you alone, 
have I sinned, and done 
that which is evil in your sight." 

Sin sets itself 
against God's love for us 
and turns our hearts away from it. 

Like the first sin, 
it is disobedience, 
a revolt against God 
through the will to become "like gods,"  

Sin is thus 
"love of oneself even to contempt of God."

In this proud self-exaltation, 
sin is diametrically opposed 
to the obedience of Jesus, 
which achieves our salvation.

Catechism of the Catholic Church


3.16.2014

A Pile of Dry Shit

Matthew 5:8 ; Matthew 5:43-44

One day a famous government officer met a highly respected elderly master. 
Being conceited, he wanted to prove that he was the superior person.

As their conversation drew on, he asked the master, 
"Old monk, do you know what I think of you and the things you said?"

The master replied, "I don't care what you think of me. 
You are entitled to have your own opinion."

The officer snorted, "Well, I will tell you what I think anyway. 
In my eyes, you are just like a pile of dry shit!"

The master simply smiled and stayed quiet.

Seeing that his insult had fallen into deaf ears, he asked curiously, "And what do you think of me?"

The master said, "In my eyes, you are just like the Buddha."

Hearing this remark, the officer left happily and bragged to his wife about the incident.

His wife said to him, 
"You conceited fool! 
When a person has a heart 
like a pile of dry shit, 
he sees everyone in that light. 

The elderly master has a heart 
like that of the Buddha, 
and that is why in his eyes, 
everyone, including you, is like the Buddha!"

Countdowns

I

Twelve tribes of Israel
Eleven curtains for the tabernacle
Ten commandments given to the freed slaves
Nine months to take David's ill-advised census
Eight day old boys circumcised
Seven years Jacob worked to marry Rachel
Six days of labor before a day of rest
Five smooth stones for a slingshot
Four corners of cloaks have tassles
Three sacred festivals
Two women and a baby come before a king
And one God
who created it all from an empty void.

II

Twelve disciples of the New Israel
Eleven of them after the cross
Ten coins reunited with their owner
Nine cured lepers not turning back
Eight unmentioned people who also passed the robbed one
Seven loaves to be blessed
Six stone containers to be filled
Five virgins were foolish/Five were wise
Four days Lazarus was in the tomb
Three gathered in His name
Two pieces of wood
And one empty tomb
which opened the gates of the Kingdom.

SUNNYSIDE OF THE STREET

The Pogues    (Music)

Seen the carnival at Rome 
Had the women I had the booze 
All I can remember now 
Is little kids without no shoes 
So I saw that train 
And I got on it 
With a heartful of hate 
And a lust for vomit 
Now I'm walking on the sunny side of the street

Stepped over bodies in Bombay 
Tried to make it to the U.S.A. 
Ended up in Nepal 
Up on the roof with nothing at all 
And I knew that day 
I was going to stay 
Right where I am, on the sunny side of the street

Been in a palace, been in a jail 
I just don't want to be reborn a snail 
Just want to spend eternity 
Right where I am, on the sunny side of the street

As my mother wept it was then I swore 
To take my life as I would a whore 
I know I'm better than before 
I will not be reconstructed 
Just wanna stay right here 
On the sunny side of the street

3.09.2014

Meditation on Mary McCleary's Prodigal Son




A fact of life is
that ranchers 
are land rich and cash poor.

So when the 
baby boy asked
for his inheritance,
the Father had
to place a parcel 
of the homestead
on the market
to make it happen.

And after the sale,
the Law abiding brother
dutifully pulled 
the fence and barb wire
from the old property line
and started to place the new 
boundaries of the estate.

And with each post 
he pounded into place,
he imagined his 
departed brother
nailing someone 
in a distant land. 

Angry Young Man

Luke 15:29:  But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends.'


poor child
of the Law!

There is no 
decree,
ordinance,
mandate
or rule
in your 
Book of Law
on how to
throw a party!

And  after
seeing how 
Grace celebrates,
you stormed up 
to your room
and started
to write
the absolute manifesto
on how to have fun.

GRACE

The grace of God means something like: 
Here is your life.  

You might never have been, 
but you are because the party
wouldn’t have been complete without you.  

Here is the world.  
Beautiful and terrible things will happen.  

Don’t be afraid.  
I am with you.  
Nothing can ever separate us.  

It’s for you I created the universe.  
I love you.  

There’s only one catch.  

Like any other gift, 
the gift of grace can be yours 
only if you reach out and take it.  

Maybe being able to reach and take it is a gift too. 

Frederick Buechner

3.02.2014

Ash Wednesday (2014)


Sinners 
approach the altar
to accept the dirt cross
and hear the words
said to the first couple.

After this holy event,
we leave the temple
with Cain's mark of 
protection.

But unlike Adam's progeny,
who wandered
east of Eden,
we place our trust
in the One
who tells us
He knows
the way
home.

Messiah

A young fugitive who comes to a town where the people are willing to take him in and hide him. When soldiers arrive in search of the fugitive, the townspeople protest that they know nothing. Suspecting their lie, the soldiers warn that, unless the fugitive is turned over by morning, the entire town will be destroyed.

In deep fear the people rush to their pastor for counsel. The priest, greatly troubled, starts searching scripture for an answer. All night he reads and finds nothing. Then, just before dawn, his eyes fall on a passage, 'It is better that one man should die for the people than the whole people be lost.'

He is sure that's the answer, and goes to the people with the news. The soldiers are informed that the fugitive is indeed hidden among them, and the young man is taken away. They throw a big party in the town, lasting far into the night, and celebrate their deliverance by the grace of God.

But the pastor returns to his study, still troubled. An angel appears to him and asks what's the problem. 'I still don't feel right about turning over the fugitive,' the pastor says. The angel replies, 'Did you know that he was the Messiah?'

The pastor is incredulous. 'How was I to know?' he asks. 'If, instead of reading your Bible,' the angel replies, 'you had taken time to visit the young man and looking into his eyes, you would have known he was the Messiah.'

Silent God

This is my prayer—
That, though I may not see,
I be aware
Of the Silent God
Who stands by me.
That, though I may not feel,
I be aware
Of the Mighty Love
Which doggedly follows me.
That, though I may not respond,
I be aware
That God—my Silent, Mighty God,
Waits each day.
Quietly, hopefully, persistently.
Waits each day and through each night
For me.
For me—alone.

Edwina Gateley

2.23.2014

Falling off the Charts


From 
age one to 
middle age 44,
homicide is among
the top five ways 
to die
in America.

Then after the mature age of 45,
killing is not even in the 
top 10.

I wonder -
did we learn to love
our neighbor
or
did we crush
all our enemies?

Number One with a Bullet


Accidents do happen.
Leading cause of death 
from ages one
to forty-four.

Then from forty-five
to sixty-four 
cancer leads the way.
Or as the researchers call it
Malignant Neoplasms. 

And then for the remaining years,
poor maintenance
and regrets
causes the heart to break.  

The Archangel Gabriel

Leo Tolstoy

Once upon a time, the archangel Gabriel heard the voice of God speaking from Paradise, blessing someone.
Gabriel said, "Surely this is some important servant of my Lord, God the Father. He must be a great saint, a hermit or wise man." 

The archangel went down to earth looking for the man, but he could not find him, neither on earth nor in heaven. Then he addressed God and said, "Oh Lord, my God, please show me how to find the object of your love."

God answered him, "Go this village. And there, in a little temple, you will see a fire."

The angel went down to the temple, and he found a man praying before an idol. Then Gabriel went back to God and said, "Lord, how can you look with love upon this idol worshipper?"


God said, "It is true that he does not understand me properly. Not one man living is capable of understanding me as I am. The wisest of the whole human race are just as far from really understanding me as this man is. I look not at his mind, but at his heart. The heart of this man searches for me, and therefore he is close to me.

2.16.2014

Someone Got Told


I wonder if 
after the mother's retort
to Jesus,
the teenaged Mark said
 the Aramaic equivalent of:
“Oh snap, Jesus!”
before witnessing
a God who could 
change His mind.

"Unsuffer Me"

Unlock my love
And set me free
Come fill me up
With ecstasy

Surround my heartbeat
With your fingertips
Unbound my feet
Untie my wrists

Come in to my world
Of loneliness
And wickedness
And bitterness
Unlock my love

Unsuffer me
Take away the pain
Unbruise, unbloody
Wash away the stain
Anoint my head
With your sweet kiss
My joy is dead
I long for bliss

I long for knowledge
Whisper in my ear
Undo my logic, undo my fear
Unsuffer me

Lucinda Williams


The Greatest Goal Ever -6/22/86

Maradona has the ball, 
two mark him, 
he touches the ball. 

The genius of world football 
dashes to the right 
and leaves the third 
and is going to pass to Burruchaga. 
It’s still Maradona! 

Genius! Genius! Genius! 
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta. 
Gooooooooooal! Gooooooooooal! 

I want to cry! Dear God! 
Long live football! 
Gooooooooooal! Diegoal! Maradona! 

It’s enough to make you cry, 
forgive me. 
Maradona, in an unforgettable run, 
in the play of all time. 

Cosmic kite! What planet are you from? 
Leaving in your wake so many Englishmen, 
so that the whole country is a clenched fist 
shouting for Argentina? 

Argentina 2, England 0. 
Diegoal, Diegoal, Diego Armando Maradona. 

Thank you, God, 
for football, 
for Maradona, 
for these tears, 
for this, 
Argentina 2, England 0.

VICTOR HUGO MORALES’S RADIO ARGENTINA COMMENTARY

Video:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RiYYSradplU

2.09.2014

City of Blinding Lights


The town on the hill
was blessed with a 
great light.

The poor
the lame
the weak
from the 
surrounding villages
saw the light
but could not go up
the hill
to experience the light.

They shouted up to
the town
to bring the light 
down the hill 
and to their villages.

But the town said, 
"No. There are too many technical issues.

Will the darkness swallow up the light?

Will we lose some (or all!) of the light
if we give it away?

What can you give us in
exchange for the light?

We will have to examine this
in much further detail
before we do anything."

The Accused

Just as he locked the door, as he pocketed the key,
as he glanced over his shoulder, they arrested him.
They tortured him until they tired of it.
‘Look,’ they said,
‘the key is your key, the house is your house,
we accept that now; but why did you put the key
in your pocket as if to hide it from us?’

They let him go, but his name is still on a list.

Yannis Ritsos
translated from the Greek by David Harsent

Thanks, Mr. Sun

I’m thankful the sun starts slow
and glides in a graceful burning
arc across the firmament. I don’t
think I could handle life if ole’ Sol
was a herky-jerky-shakey-jake.
Mr. Sun stays in his own lane,
daily commuting with polite constancy,
never nervous about missing
something like a primo parking spot.
For a fireball it seems to have it all
together, unshyly shining golden on
this blue-born world’s flappable.

John Blase

2.02.2014

Aftermath

I think the Rapture is bunk.
But
 imagine an aftermath
of:

Insurance companies getting religion
and declaring the Rapture
an Act of God
as they stiff their policy-holders.

Consider a sight of
 several hundred million children 
gone off to the Kingdom.

Elementary school teachers 
 to teach the ones 
that were left behind.

The one per-centers
texting: WTF
Where did the help go?

The pastor who
didn't get caught up in the clouds
wondering if
 he would have a flock to tend?

Bullies will miss their patsies.
Patrons will remember their bartenders.
High school kids will revere the cheerleader.
And gossips will ask, 
"Why her? /Why him?"

And all the while,
me and you 
will go through
the departed's
fridges and garages
prepping ourselves for
the Final Days.

The Seven Deadly Sins

Forget about the other six, says Pride.
They're only using you.
Admittedly, Lust is a looker,
but you can do better.

And why do they keep bringing us
to this cheesy dive?
The food's so bad that even Gluttony
can't finish his meal.

Notice how Avarice
keeps refilling his glass
whenever he thinks we're not looking,
while Envy eyes your plate.

Hell, we're not even done, and Anger
is already arguing about the bill.
I'm the only one who
ever leaves a decent tip.

Let them all go, the losers!
It's a relief to see Sloth's
fat ass go out the door.
But stick around. I have a story

that not everyone appreciates
about the special satisfaction
of staying on board as the last
grubby lifeboat pushes away.

Dana Gioia

Gifts

The Prodigal Son
All callow thoughtlessness
Outshone his brother

Unfair or unwise
To favor the miscreant
Yet it's instinctive

We value others
For the love that we give them
Not the love returned


Martin Locock 

1.26.2014

Small deaths

Jesus suffered the small deaths of life.

Losses of Joseph and John.

Rejected in His hometown.

Being misunderstood
by His followers and the crowds.

Grieving over Lazarus.

Angered by the condition
of His Father’s house.  

Denied by Peter.

Betrayed by Judas.

The bullshit trial.

Which lead to His Big Death

That blessed us 
(as we suffer 
our own small deaths)
never to experience
the curse of a
Big Death.

The Day After Sinatra Married Mia Farrow

So the coffee would stay hot all morning 
Edna, the large-boned Dutch waitress, 
her face and throat flushed from the heat 
would first fill my thermos with boiling water 
in the Circle Diner on Kutztown Road, 
this July morning steamy and loud 
with a highway crew at the counter, 
two grizzled mailmen in the side booth 
and us from the nearby construction site, 
a job I loved for its noise and fresh air, 
screwing big lag bolts into the sills 
of Caloric Stove's new factory warehouse, 
the whirr of the countersink drilling the wood, 
clean white hemlock or spruce

and when one of the mailmen heads for the door 
Edna calls out to him "Hey Jack 
how you think Frank's feeling this morning?" 
Smoke from the grill and the cook's cigar 
clouding the wide glass window: 
Frank, 20 years her senior, 
stepping from Sam Giancana's limo 
or else whispering One For My Baby 
into the spotlight: his death 
in his voice with its flawless control, 
his slanted fedora and raincoat, 
his glittering life we could only imagine

though most of us are laughing by now 
wolfing our hot cakes and eggs 
when the old man yells back, "Tired as hell!" 
pulling his hat down low at the door, 
happy enough to be going to work 
on a Friday under the dawnwashed sky 
of Johnson's Great Society, 
with the Lehigh Valley opening its thighs 
and the weekend gorged with promise.

Joseph Millar