Here, Smell This
I’ll never wish that I had
More of that nasal embrace
When “Wow this smells bad”
Precedes an object in my face.
I’d prefer to simply ignore it
Rather than have you deplore it.
Can I live my life in doubt
Of the horrible smell you point out?
One hundred percent of people mentioned in statistics are not numbers.
I wouldn’t put total reliance
Into statistical science.
Behind the numbers lie
People who slumber by
With out knowing where they fall
In a graph or a spread sheet.
When numbers start to sprawl,
Where do stats and people meet?
Catholic Pickup Lines
Didn’t I see you at World Youth Day?
How about you, me, and a Passion Play?
I always kiss on the lips at the sign of peace.
After shaking hands, we’re supposed to release?
I think the iris’s in your eyes,
Remind me of the little flower.
It only took me 22 tries
Before I found your holy hour.
I need a partner for my marriage prep class,
And since you distract me at mass,
We could get married and stop stalling?
Was my message on your phone your calling?
Wanna call it the March for Wife,
Start a family and be pro-life?
Should I genuflect or stand in line,
‘Cause girl, you look absolutely divine.
Do you have the gift of interpretation?
Or can I whisper sweet nothings in your ear?
Lets start a up a good conversation
Holding theology of your body near.
Was I knocked out by your beauty or slain in the spirit?
I hear you’ve got the gift of tongues, want to share?
I didn’t know my pilgrimage stopped here it’s
Great though to be stuck inside your stare.
We’ll go out after a decade or two
But lets not rush, lets pray this moment lingers.
I forgot my rosary, can I share with you?
You forgot yours? Lets use my fingers.
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Bacon
What’s better than makin’
up some more bacon,
That’s up for the takin’
When no one has stake in
The slow cookin’ bacon.
‘Cause inside the kitchen,
Those who don’t pitch in
Come in for snitchin’
And though this might be stressing
There’s no real point in guessing
The culprits aren’t confessing
Who’s stealing bacon blessing.
Lemonade
I don’t want to make some lemonade,
Or meringue pie, or anything I
Can think of to make lemons fade
From a melancholy existence,
A soury fruit-filled persistence.
So I save myself the strain
Squeezing this fruit would be moot
As I’d rather complain in vain.
Coat Rack Reactions
You are the coat rack where I hang up my reactions.
I look to you to see how I’m doing.
Did you like the whole poem, or just fractions
Of an idea I was pursuing?
Both suits and holey jeans as well,
Aligned and hung upon the torturous rack.
Reacting verse that’s taking time to spell
Out situations otherwise held back.
I leave my clothes to hang suspended
In time you’ll pick up a hat or a glove
From an outfit left out, intended
For your wear. To hate or to love.
Silence Interrupting
This Silence interrupts me when it’s most inopportune,
When a conversation lulls perhaps too soon.
When silence speaks, we listen to what it has to say
As it awkwardly fills up our own delay.
Waiting for Signs
(Luke 17:20-25)
Waiting for signs from above
You’re waiting for some dove
To land on your shoulder,
When there’s already a boulder
That’s been moved.
Grooved into history
Making the rest to be
Unsatisfactory.
Why do I look for a sign
Waiting for the obvious to be restated,
When the Son already shines
Over an undercomplicated
Heart that I close my eyes to
In hopes that I do
His will and not my own
In the things I’m shown.
“Bring on the lightning
That’s frightening demons!
Bring on the stashes of flashes
You’ve been saving up!”
“Drink My saving cup,”
He point blankly sighs.
The Kingdom’s amidst you
Yet your tongue dries
In waiting
Underrating
Something you’ve missed
In Eucharist.
I wrote the following poem the weekend before my wife and I started dating.
(Breathe)
I smile at the thought of you seeing me
praying poetry
for our relationship to be
gracefully
led by He
who created both you and me.
I pray that the Spirit’s grace
will lace your thoughts,
trace your skin,
and chill your spine
to intertwine
God alone
with your own
thought’s pace.
Walk towards Him,
and I will walk with you.
Allow His Spirit to wrap you
Clap you in His hands
He understands your need for a blanket,
Thank it,
this warm swarm
in the spirit of prayer
where He traps you, wraps you,
and slaps you
upside the head.
You’re alive.
Rise up from this dead heart of stone
you are not alone.
You’re with God.
You and He are now We,
and I see you two
singing and Dancing together
whether or not you notice me thinking
“So this is your drinking the spirit,”
How beautiful to be near it
that spirit that she sits and emits
by saying yes.
How beautiful it is to be near you.
whether or not you notice the thinking I do,
How beautiful it is to be near you.
hear you singing,
bringing His spirit into my ears
as it nears the time
when I’m
going to say yes again
when the spirit in you
will shine on the spirit in me
so that I can’t even see
anything but the spirit of He
who made both you and me.
From Baby
Don’t listen to my voice, ‘cause I can’t speak
I’m in amniotic fluid upside down.
I know that if I kick mom here, she’ll leak
I’ll wait though, till we’re driving through downtown.
BonjourPoetry 