Out of the Depths

DE PROFUNDIS

Every Sacrament
I could...
Immersed my soul
In graces, good.

Every penance
That I uttered
In fear and trepidation
Shuddered.

Every child
I birthed in pain,
I offered Him
So souls would gain.

And now, my soul,
In night, won't cease,
For you, my prayers...
De Profundis.

Pray for Souls in Purgatory

THE
HOLY CARD

Five a.m., my coffee,
Rosary in my hands,
All upon my lap-desk,
My soul inhales, expands.

And then I spy the HOLY card,
Upon my desk it lay.
A relic, token, keepsake,
Memento for the day,

From those who’ve gone before us,
We hope decked out in grace,
And yet, so often, leave their cards,
Sometimes in strangest place.

One side…their names and dates,
The other, Christ or Saint,
Prayers to persevere for them,
Make sacrifice, don’t faint.

So when you spot such HOLY cards,
Behind it is a story,
That you’ve been chosen, asked to help,
Free souls from Purgatory!

ALL SOULS DAY

YES,
I KNOW
NOVEMBER

Yes, I know November
The tolling of the bell,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
From mountain top to dell.

The chilly, gray, damp mornings
The rusting of the leaves,
The whispers of the suf'ring souls
Like moans from one who grieves.

And in the windy noon-time
When clouds fight 'gainst sun's might,
The whispers of the suf'ring souls
Cry, "Sanctuary light!"

So 'fore the red-glassed candle,
Compelled, I go to pray,
The whispers of the suf'ring souls
Plead, "Sacrifice today!"

Now, deep, dark sanctuary
Is lit by candle, bold,
The whispers of the suf'ring souls...
"Your prayers are autumn gold!"

So like the leaves of autumn
I fall to kneeling posture,
The whispers of the suf'ring soulsBeg,
"Say a Pater Noster!"

The flicker in the red glass
Burns hotter, now, with Creed.
Oh, yes, I know November!
The month of Hope...souls freed!

On Pilgrimage to STARKENBURG

THEY

LOCKED

US

OUT

BUT

STILL

WE

SHOUT

VIVA!

Viva!
Viva Cristo Rey!
Viva!
Just shouted yesterday.

Viva!
So hated down in Hell.
Viva!
Was shouted by Miguel

Viva!
Viva Cristo Rey!
Viva!
Just shouted yesterday.

Viva!
All Catholic boys should know.
Viva!
This word from Padre Pro.

Viva!
Viva Cristo Rey!
Viva!
Just shouted yesterday.

Viva!
His arms outstretched, they shot.
Viva!
To stop the Catholic plot.

Viva!
Viva Cristo Rey!
Viva!
Just shouted yesterday.

Viva!
The body dropped and died.
Viva!
His blood then multiplied.

Viva!
Viva Cristo Rey!
Viva!
Just shouted yesterday.

Viva!
His blood runs through our veins.
Viva!
His holy hemorrhage reigns

Viva!
For Viva Cristo Rey!
Viva!
Forever and today.

VIVA!!

(Pilgrims came from Colorado, Minnesota, Illinois, Indianna, Missouri, Kansas, Wisconsin, Tennessee & Kentucky)

OCTOBER

GOOD NIGHT
OCTOBER

The month of October
Pajamas orange-red
The month the year yawns
And gets ready for bed.

ABORTION

No, THIS is it!!

Fee Fi Fo Fum

I smell the blood

Of the unborn one

Fum Fo Fi Fee

Salt and sliced

At the abortuary.

Octoberfest

MAN'S BEST FRIEND

A man's best friend,
If you please,
Is not a dog
But cheddar cheese.

A cheese whose taste
Runs sharp or mellow,
Why, cheese with beer
Can help a fellow!

And make him look,
Like a handsome hunk,
When he passes some
To a girl that's drunk

In the local pub,
If truth be told,
When the girls get silly
Then cheese is gold.

Where drafts of beer
Make you look better
As she gulps them down
With a side of cheddar!

The Shroud

PIERRE’S POCKETS

The beginning of Wisdom
Is Fear of the Lord,
So Wisdom with age?
I’ve seen no accord.

So you’ve lived many decades
Seen the world more than twice.
But what have you learned?
That sinners are nice?

That sinners eat
And sinners drink
And sinners read
And sinners think!

And sinners have
Sincere desires
Like remodeling rooms
With art that inspires

And compels one to lift
His goblet of wine
To toast all we want
And make want what is mine!

So all in modern
Society
Shall acknowledge their versions
Of propriety.

And when you die,
They’ll bring goblets, blessed lockets…
But they’ll realize too late…
Pierre’s shroud has no pockets!