Whoever says he is in the light,
Yet hates his brother or sister,
Is still in the darkness --
But beware of The Twilight,
Neither fully in the light,
Nor fully in the darkness,
The Land of the Lukewarm,
Like the Laodiceans of old,
Who are neither hot nor cold,
Who will be spit out like
Salt that has lost its flavor,
Like vines that have no fruit,
They will be thrown out
And they will wither,
Ever so slowly wither,
Into the black earth.
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
under the victorious Vesuvius,
who was bathed in the seductive
red glow of liquid lava;
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 under 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.
Was he actually
humble?
Or did his pride
puff
like swollen eyelids and make him
stumble?
Was he possibly
kind?
Or did silent envy
creep
like a serpent into his
mind?
Did he patiently
wait?
Or did his simmering anger
boil
as he smelled that costly nard with
hate?
Did he have
zeal?
Or was his faith
sluggish
like at his last supper
meal?
Did he perchance
share?
Or did his fingers
clutch
the silver coins to keep in his
lair?
Did his temperance avoid every
snag?
Or was he a glutton who
gobbled
all the leftover loaves from the
bag?
Did he have self-
control?
Or did he pant and burn for
power
since killing the Romans was his
goal?
Did he ultimately
repent?
Or did his faithless soul
fall
through the noose like
cement?
I like to chew bubblegum,
I chew it until my lips are numb;
Even though it makes me cough,
It gives me a chance to show off;
I chew with a great deal of vigor,
To blow my bubbles even bigger;
My jaw churns like a runaway train,
As if I were absolutely going insane;
Then I blow a bubble ever so big,
Almost as big as the face of a pig;
Then it explodes all over my face,
And, humiliated, I am in utter disgrace;
Why do I always have to be the best?
And be such a stupid arrogant pest?
I try way too hard to seem so cool,
But I’m really, honestly, just a big fool.
Lecherous Loverboy is his true name,
Pornography is his heart-thumping game;
Peeking at pics of sexy Doll Tearsheet,
He meanly treats her like a hunk of white meat;
The more he looks at his sensual pets,
The more his eyes swell, and larger they gets;
Like the wooden nose of Pinocchio,
Each one of his eyeballs just grow and grow;
Loverboy’s lewd obsession never stops,
Then like a balloon each eye loudly pops;
He listens to Emotion’s lustful lies,
So that’s why Loverboy suddenly dies.
When a student doesn’t
answer him right,
He growls real loud
as if ready to bite;
His anger explodes
and his mustache curls,
And, glaring, his cold eyes
look like black pearls;
He treats his students
like runaway slaves,
Then they all get F’s --
except for his faves;
Why doesn’t he show
heartfelt compassion?
It must be intellectually
out of fashion.
As I gently finger the beads of the rosary,
I touch your warm soft hands,
I gaze into your merciful, majestic eyes,
And I contemplate your loveliness;
Together our precious prayers mingle,
And rise up like sweet incense,
Its scent perfumes the halls of Heaven,
And delights the Lord of Light.
St. Joseph the Silent Knight,
Holy man of common sense,
You preached the gospel,
Though often without words,
If you had the knowledge,
You answered your neighbor,
If not, then through divine wisdom
You put your hand over your mouth;
Teach me how to hold my tongue,
To follow the Spirit’s lead,
Instead of getting in trouble
By rashly running ahead of Him;
It’s pleasant to converse,
But it’s far better to be prudent.
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 the Holy Family:
Strength to lead,
Love to inspire,
Wisdom to guide.
Amen.
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.
You protected the Babe of Light,
In Bethlehem’s most Holy Night.
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 knight of the Dove,
And on that Holy Night met Love.
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 protected the Babe of Light,
In Bethlehem’s most Holy Night.
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 the tune of “Silent Worship” by George Frideric Handel
O behold Our Lady,
Who hears the church bells ringing,
Silent, she waits and listens,
Then, hears the angels singing;
And, lo, behold Our Lady,
So beautiful and fair,
Smiling in the Sonshine,
With a glory of golden hair.
She cuddled with Baby Jesus,
In a stable in Bethlehem,
The light from the little Savior
Shone brightly like a gem.
Surely you love Our Lady,
Who joins the angels singing,
Deep in His heart of mercy,
Her prayers with ours are mingling;
And, lo, behold Our Lady,
So beautiful and fair,
Smiling in the Sonshine,
God’s love is in the air.
Inspired by St. Francis de Sales
O Lord, I recognize
my unworthiness,
and I humbly ask pardon
for my sins.
Amen.
She is the Star of Bethlehem.
The compassionate Lady of Love,
The powerful Virgin of Victory,
The sweet Mother of the Messiah,
Silent and holy, calm and bright,
Her dazzling beauty shines
In the dark night of unknowing,
And she points the way for the
Wise men and wise women
Of this world who wish to know
The Babe of Divine Mercy.
Whispered sweetly,
Santa Maria’s “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.
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.
Inspired by Paolo Veronese’s masterpiece
Our Lord looks at Mary
With sweetness and gentleness,
And she looks back at him,
Incredulous, that He could
Forgive and pardon
Her many many grave sins;
She gazes into the eyes of Love,
Her heart pierced by the lance of
Sincere heartfelt contrition, and
As He breaks the chains of her sin,
She experiences the Good,
She experiences the True,
She experiences the Beautiful —
And, lo, she is a new creation!
O Mystical Rose,
Be with me; stay with me;
Let every beat of my heart tonight
Be an act of love for you!
O Jesus, The Divine Mercy,
Be with me; stay with me;
Let every beat of my heart tonight
Be an act of love for you!
Amen.
O Lord of Love,
Through your holy grace,
I have wholehearted contrition,
And am free from all affection for sin,
And so, with a sincere heart,
I offer you this Our Father
and also this Hail Mary,
For the Holy Father’s intentions…
And along with these prayers,
Please accept my recent confession,
And this morning’s indulgenced work,
And reception of Holy Communion.
In short, I humbly request that
Through the sweet hands of
Our Lady of Love,
You accept the little gift of
Today’s indulgence,
Offered for the benefit of _____,
Or for whomever the merciful
Mystical Rose most wishes,
In accordance with your holy will.
Amen.