Best Venial Poems
Lithesome steps lead me to an ancient
temple
Perched across a bay, weeds and
hyacinths curl between my feet,
Where mist refills bowl of cotton clouds
As rustling breeze ascends on skyline's ladder.
In stillness, I lounge on the pew to whisper unsaid psalmic devotions
for a world which aches for calmer
retreat--
That I reach a peak where the mind
becomes absent--
Then I hear them , a medley of peals
Lifting me higher in regulated tempo from gong
rhythms,
A music swelling in warm temperance Until warm kiln of light and radiant
fireflies stir my kundalini.
On this treasured moment, a sentient
energy
Cleanses my beingness from past sins -- mortal and venial-
That I listen to the clang of my inner child's soft echoes entering my veins:
Somewhere in blank spaces, bells swing of
innocent laughter...a treble,
a clap
bringing me to the kindness of youth,
And my body stays quiet, welcoming this rite of
passage on days when the spirit calls for an
interlude's break...a meditative
connection with
the self--
without the need to speak.
Categories:
venial, silence,
Form:
Imagism
Just twenty days. The mystical
Libra will turn rosette boughs into
fading auburn… nights combing
the breeze colder and quite somber ,
as if women on bare hilltops await
the arrival of men in some far oceans
when bleached summer gives way
to icicles of endurance so patient
and wives, lovers tremble in this anticipation
swaying
back and forth, balancing the cold
clutches of afternoon’s light and
destitute clouds wearing mufflers
for near or far elegies of snow.
It is grippingly delicate: I mean, watching
the changing hint of a breeze growing
paler.
Yet wiser is October rising to chip the
glow of studded stars, bit by bit, dying
in the gray of grayest sleet to bear
the tunes of venial woes. Yet, it is the cycle
when courage bides its time for amiable joy.
It is the cycle when her adolescent stage
transforms ladies into maids-in-waiting...
how much longer must the women endure
to find an armada of loved ones back home?
And the weight of contentment drips, drips
in a season fulfilling its own quest.
There are
no answers; only reflective surrender.
Contest: Waiting
Sponsor: james rogers
9/10/2015
Categories:
venial, introspection, october, endurance,
Form:
Free verse
Her being hangs on two faces of her mind,
one overlooking the essentials and joy of life
as those half-blind eyes reflect what she sees…
is it that Shadow of obsession or power’s lure
where temptation brews her world,
reeling loosely into a charcoaled hole
and onward through the never of her mind?
The other face clutches moths’ kisses
sweet its glow among dawn’s baby roses
as her heart finds kindness in giving
that flavors the potion of her sunlit dance
and onward through the never of her mind.
In agonizing braille of the dark, she crawls
regaining awareness to mold one face,
proud the shadowed one charged with venial sins…
till Michael’s Light tramples a serpent’s pounce
while baby roses lead the way,
a most graceful of all choices in her world.
and onward through the always of her mind.
..................
Anthony Slausen's Gods and Devils Contest
1/18/2015
Categories:
venial, dark, light,
Form:
Free verse
Blues in the Night.
A malignant moon
shines his metallic claws -
combs my hair and brushes me forward.
I am alone in the shadowy crooks
of a poisoned metropolis.
A clandestine garbage chute -
where waifs and strays burn
within the fetid bowels
of a cavernous concrete underbelly.
The orphanage awaits my arrival,
as muted outcries are crushed
beneath my footsteps.
A parentless prison
teeters atop Utopia's dreaded brim;
the hamlet where Orwell slew Hilton.
St. Peter has been released
and no longer tends the kitchen.
Agony and angel wings reneged
a redundant brotherhood of sorts.
His recipe for remorse shall be missed.
Blues in the Night.
In the distance,
feigned epileptic outbursts
placates a patron's fears.
Caffeine injections
stimulates another's venial sins
as it magnifies their cardinal options.
An insomnious woman converses
with a napkin holder. The surface
is dull and unreflective, like she.
Banter never-to-be heard
by her never-to-be gentleman caller.
I am home –
amongst the dead I adore.
A haggard waitress serves me a menu.
A laminated journal stained
with melancholy and mustard.
Desolation and demi-tasse
are tonight’s midnight special.
Ten cents additional, if you order deluxe.
Blues in the Night.
I twiddle my thumbs
for I have no other’s to borrow.
I catch my rugged reflection
in the asylum’s window.
I espy my counterpart again
in a twisted spoon -
realizing I’m three utensils short
from a grievous quartet salted
with Mack Sennett misfits.
A collection of dishes clatter
above the sanatorium’s jukebox.
I place my spoon on the counter
and pick up a lifeless knife.
I envy its potential and possibilities
as Woody Herman croons
in the background.
Categories:
venial, angst, introspection, on writing
Form:
Free verse
Love Has No Reply
Love has no reply it just waits-
love has no reply - it just prays-
Love understands- as it hopes
that rage will be quelled-
That the core of your heart will
be overwhelmed-
and overruled-Disenchantments
of the venial mind-are allowable
If you never intend to exhale-
then inhalation is inevitable.
Demons seek company -
Presenting illusions to keep misery
side tracked' in sorrowful elegies
The cardinal mentation-
will automatically
tick, when your tocking and;
Tock when you are ticking.
You came here with no instructions--
Love requires no action
Does not have to reply
No matter the jargon
the meaning of "no “is the same.
Whether you wax or wane,
with wagers parlayed
invest in the" WAIT" like the yellow light
"Spread your bet-green light- keep moving
Not always smart- to bet on a sure thing.
Red light stop wait -think about
what you're thinking of doing-
win, win situation.
Prior truth is not necessary for
what is "yet to be believed"
Permanent solutions
should never be applied to a
temporary condition.
The efficaciousness of the syringe as a method in seeking answers to concepts is horribly ineffective.
Love has no reply--- No outside stimuli -
No do's or don'ts ... from the I ...
Strictly and inside Job.
Categories:
venial, absence, analogy, hope, metaphor,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Two kinds of sin are Original
Actual
Original sin is from our first parent disobedience
Actual sin has two types Mortal sin
Venial, daily or 7 Capital/Deadly Sins
Chief Sources of Actual Sin
Pride, Covetousness, lust, anger
Gluttony, Envy and Sloth or Laziness
Vices are Humility, Liberty, Chastity
Meekness, Temperance and Brotherly love
4302014
Categories:
venial, black african american, christian,
Form:
List
This empty space waits, along a dim marsh
where paramour hides from tints of red dew,
and crackling boughs grip like a whiplash
on venial sins of passion, long the slew.
Her pace quickens to reach Eden's boulder
weighing low, chained by raked emotion
knowing not why ecstacy grips a dare;
as ravens swoop in twilight procession.
The illlicit hours reel a tempting game
venial sins genuflect without relief,
that holy stars warp in foiled cellophane
while gangrene clouds dodge like a hidden thief.
Her secret man appears, bearing moon’s core
to flame clandestine hours into moans' thrill
there, shadows quench for more of rain's downpour
as pleasure and pain mix a tyrst, fulfilled.
Gothic or Romantic Old/ New, Giorgio V.'s Contest
* Gothic Romanticism
by nette onclaud
Categories:
venial, mystery,
Form:
Quatrain
F ailing to do this is simply detrimental to one’s own health.
O ften it’s done as a very last resort before madness sets in.
R eality dictates that vengeance is venial and vindictive.
G oing forward on an ethical and moral journey towards a more sublime goal
I nvolves practice in this humble virtue as well as others.
V erily it is the key to releasing one’s self from a prison of one’s own making.
E ventually, I’m told, practice of the virtue with prayer makes for a happy life.
Categories:
venial, forgiveness, health, prayer,
Form:
Acrostic
Three lying deacons
swim in a handbag -
and a lone, celibate pastor
paces longingly bemused.
Michael, the Arc Angel,
poses silently,
in dusty Gabbana drag,
cursing the lipstick-painted laymen
writhing in rancid attar -
naked
and intentionally
unused.
Four wide-eyed boys
dance on a daydream –
kissing ripped posters
of a white collared rapist.
Saint Peter understands
the jovial jokesters -
the foolishness
when blackened specks darken the void;
the flurried flutter of his eyelids
casts a tainted shadow
upon a fractured sexual ballet.
They continue to kiss
below the waist.
Three lying deacons
and a pacing pastor resides –
five lip-smacking nurses
massaging your head.
Four wide-eyed boys
caress your knuckles
as the well-trimmed priest
pronounces
a poorly
scented infant:
"anally dead."
Seven cardinal sins
slip and divide
into 3 venial ratios.
"Hi, Sonny"...
Greed, lust and vanity
are mortal crimes;
Father Fragrantly Fresh...
quietly proclaims:
"snuggle a bit closer and
sniff a hint of Genesis."
Say I’m to blame
and cause-count the afflictions –
smaller undetected lumps
hump the jaded addictions
brain dead and haughty –
the zombies
circle and laugh!
I wasn't born in a dark discarded
Parisian tunnel but -
can you Roman Polanski me,
please?
Kill the poet...
and make him pay -
below the waist.
Crushed words embody
a forgotten loner’s
epitaph!
(force him to stutter stupidly)
and within a last breath -
and within a last breath -
and within a last breath -
GOD...
"the string-strangled
puppet
conventionally chokes -
and quietly succumbs
(to a textured landscape)
of a youthful
silenced dying...
...swaddled
and swallowed
in a heavenly -
haloed chosen
death..."
Categories:
venial, introspection
Form:
Free verse
I survived scarred but
unscathed growing up Irish
catholic.
Mind numbing Masses sung in
Latin
Ostentatious Corpus Christy
processions through local
streets
Ornately dressed priests
Eyes to the skies, garbage
underfoot
Fair game for taunting
classmates armed with cutting
quips
abstinence during Lent
weekly confession that
required creative thinking to
minimize mortal sins
further ingenuity required to
pass off venial sins
to fill the quota on weeks when
you were good,
But it was the redemption
through suffering
or straight to hell in a hand
basket that crippled.
The collateral damage of
inherited weaknesses?
An act of contrition, three Hail
Mary's and an Our Father
To survive
"I have had to deny knowledge
in order to leave room for
faith."
Fascinating for it's simplicity
and heavy dose of reality.
It helped with my struggle to
understand
what others appear to see so
clearly.
And yet despite this cross
connection the majority of my
actions
are calibrated against my
religious upbringing.
A voice, my own, my mother's,
echoes from statues, holy wells
and saints
that continue to haunt my past
and dissect my actions
I am a reluctant Catholic.
It is part of my DNA.
Early on I found out how hard
it was not to conform
when I began to swim against
the tide.
Lifelines were few
while responses took the form
of it is just a phase,
Have him have a chat with the
priest.
The alienation was akin to Irish
tee totalers
welcome, yet removed from
the nexus of Irish society, the
pub
Categories:
venial, religion
Form:
Blank verse
Must have the Sacrament of Holy Eucharist
Attend Sunday mass
A person may not receive communion
Until absolved from Mortal or Venial sin
04052014
Categories:
venial, black african american, character,
Form:
Quatrain
Incense clings in the air
great clouds
stealing into dark corners
of stained wood and cold marble floors.
I watch the casket roll by
and memories take me.
Unwilling.
Here I knelt on red velvet cushions and confessed my darkest sins.
Mortal an venial.
Hats, white gloves strewn on benches -- hard as the dogma they taught.
My summer uniform
a red bow tie, seersucker pants, white bucks.
Why was Christ always in agony?
After we begged him for love, back at the apartment above Auburndale Plumbing Supply, a stream of aunts would come, hover around the stove, basting the roast, mashing potatoes.
They sang Irish ballads and "The Lion Sleeps Tonight."
The talk was of Jack and Jackie, American saints.
A Catholic in the White House ... finally.
My uncles downed red and white colored cans of Rheingold ...
talked of fishing trips,
concrete and drywall,
the ******* down South.
"Jesus. They're making trouble."
Uncle Dennis clipped open his silver lighter and lit a Lucky Strike.
We hushed when he spoke of the Battle of the Bulge ... Cuba ... Russia.
I fought off his embrace ... the smell of smoke and whiskey.
On the living room wall, the Sacred Heart dripped blood ... and made me wonder.
All these years in heaven, and Jesus was still looked sad.
Categories:
venial, christian, religion, remember,
Form:
Free verse
A less serious matter
Does not observe moral law
Disobeys the moral law in a grave matter
Without full knowledge
Without complete consent
While he is in the flesh
Man cannot help
Have at least light sins
But do not despise these sins
Which is called “light”
When you take them for light
Weigh them
Tremble when you count them
What then is our hope?
Above all
Reconciliation
Penance
Confession
(CCC 1863)
Categories:
venial, devotion, faith, religion, light,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Think of it this way
All illnesses make our body sick
Some can kill you others just make you just miserable for a while
All need healing
The same can be a state of sins
Some sins can cause us to lose our eternal lives
Others just delay our entry to Heaven
The makes a distinction between mortal and venial sins
The same can be a state of sins
Some sins can cause us to lose our eternal lives
Others just delay our entry to Heaven
The makes a distinction between mortal and venial sins
Mortal sin is a deliberate
Intentional
Or on purpose turning away from God
His laws
Mortal sin is to must be a grave
Or serious choice against God
Sinner must be aware of how bad it is but choose to do it anyway
On the other hand
venial sin is falling short of our obligations to God
Others without completely turning from God
It is like loitering
wait
Or hang about the road to heaven versus taking one that leads away from it
The good news is that no matter how lost we get
God will always take us back through the Sacrament of Reconciliation orunderstanding (Confession).
Categories:
venial, blessing, christian, devotion, faith,
Form:
Light Verse
Punish me not for the sins of my youth,
I stand here today before you to confess the truth,
of the venial indiscretions of my youth.
A lost soul of this planet I once was,
A troublemaker who never knew no bounds,
I broke the commandments in many-a-rounds,
Of drunkenness, carelessly living in sin,
Ignorant and selfish, I cheated to win.
I spent most days in the dark corners of the street,
Getting into trouble, I was indiscreet.
With the Devil on my side, I drove with pride,
Taking all I could, it was a pleasant ride.
Setting fire on objects with a single spark,
Deeper and deeper, I fell in the dark.
The light tried to reach me but I was too afraid,
My eyes so sensitive, blind I stayed.
You tried to reach for me Lord but I hid away,
Many-a-nights I stayed up and cried the night away.
Because what I used to think gave me joy,
Was actually out to have me destroyed.
Now that I’ve grown Lord and I fear your wrath,
Please shine your light lord and show me the path,
To righteousness, and I will follow it now,
Until I reach your destination, to this I vow.
But it’s so hard and I’ve struggled much,
to try and break free from the Devil’s clutch,
Please Lord, free me from his horrible touch.
To show I am worthy, I accept this test,
Of trial and tribulation, I will not rest.
Give me strength Lord, please take my hand,
And guide me safely from this unholy land.
Punish me not for the sins of my youth,
As I stand here before you to confess the truth,
Of the venial indiscretions of my youth.
My heart is heavy coz I’m burdened with sin,
But with you by my side Lord I’m sure to win.
As long as I remember you and never forget,
That you love me infinite, I’ll never regret,
Having opened my eyes and embracing the light,
Standing up to the Devil, I’m ready to fight.
Categories:
venial, faith, hope, religion, upliftingme,
Form:
Rhyme