Best Liturgy Poems

watch me!

oh, watch me dance!
  al these months I have waited
    twisting in the wind with the others
      clasping tight
        doing my work

helping to feed The One
  creating...

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They loiter
in memory's mausoleums,
old chants, 
those gilded liturgies,
ready to resurrect
and eat through the ear
with promises
under the finery 
of polished myth.

Grafted onto our very bone,
these structures scaffold history 
and who we are. 
Now, stripped of flesh,
they moan 
and rattle the dark
when given voice
by savage winds.

I have...

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Creativity opens doors to learning
to read our own, and others’, compelling literacy,
beautiful truths.

We are not an isolated supreme species creating nihilism,
self-serving ego hedonists;
or, rather, we are,
but within an open sesame systemic potential
for also becoming more grace-filled cooperative,
endo with ecto symbiotic evolutionaries

learning to read nature’s re-ligioning...

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why does universe whisper that there is no final destination?

no matter how powerful, words a real universe cannot build

a blue-green world held in tight thrall by a star and surrounding system

we are made from the materials which our environment provides

an existence spent orbiting source of...

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Hi all, I have recently completed a short and easy to use Pure Land Buddhist Liturgy and Prayer Book, based on the 48 Vows of Amitabha and Infinite Life Sutra. Here is the first verse:

O Amitabha, you hear and you see our trials and ordeals....

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The Liturgy of the Hours 
Draws mainly from the Biblical book of Psalms...

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In the liturgy of the gathering of the dead
Shadows play like phantom haunts
Shivering with broom sticks quaking
She flies enslaving the Halloween moon

Shadows play like phantom haunts
Enchanted by the sorceress' tune
She flies enslaving the Halloween moon
Possessed by her lair's bedeviled curse

Enchanted by the sorceress' tune
Shivering with...

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Some say you lose your innocence,
mine was given away in a jungle
where the ground sucked up the blood.
Making me wonder if the earth
is a vampire and not a whore.

Did I pay some forgotten debt,
have I wept for the fallen enough ?
Where were you Uncle Sam
when...

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There is so much to taste:
a religious surfeit 
gives me indigestion.

Jostled by a crowd of words 
I seek just who I am 
in relation to the Word.

Give me space, some quiet, 
room to breathe the Holy.

The Word made flesh is enough 
on which to feed...

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The divine worship of the Church
Not an event on good ideas
Nor great songs
No one makes or invents a liturgy
Mass is holy
Venerable action
Liturgy becomes exciting when we sense
Eternal God Himself is present under its precious
Often ancient prayers

YOUCAT 167...

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My wounded heart drinks deep from the rotting gut of misery,
Humanity vomits its relics onto the oozing tiles of the real.
I see kids chewing syringes like candy canes,
Their innocence smashed, face down on the concrete of progressive decay,
Strangled in the dungeons of a morality sold...

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As climate pathology peaks
toward climax conditions

LeftBrain privileged blindness
and deafness,
tastelessness
replacing savoring,

Absence of green
and sea salty blue
fragrance,
bereft of internal robust feelings
and external wellbeing touch
drop unhealthily
unwealthily away
from enabling organic integrity
to know 

Empathy is to spiritual consciousness
as sympathy mirrors neurosensory awareness

In this second becoming time,
RightBrain legitimately feeling
our life interdependent...

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They prayed a Buddhist prayer:

And may we cooperatively dwell
in Earth's great equanimity
free from attachment
and dispassionate aversion.

As regenerations continued this bodymind practice,
MotherEarth Attachment transposed
disassociated from healthy relationships
with all empowering
and enlightening creatures,
and was replaced by "greed"
and correlated "envy"

Greed rooted in fear
individual egocenters are not enough identity,
bodies carrying...

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I never learned to look at shop windows
without searching for the walking shape of your footsteps.
The umbrella abandoned beside a rusted bicycle
resembles you more than any living body.

On the wet pavements, an old woman feeds the pigeons
with the same patience you once had
for all the...

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