Catholic Poems - Poems about Catholic

Chicago Catholic Grade School Fire

Twenty-four days before Christmas in 1958 there was a huge fire
at Our Lady of the Angels, a Catholic grade school in Chicago
Eighty-seven children and three nuns died in this fire.

One of the children who passed was Mary’s little sister, Karen.
She was to be a first grader forever.
Mary was in the fourth grade at the time.

Mary

Holy Roller

There once was an old Pope from Rome
who had the Good Book a huge tome
an altar ego and mass appeal
so he made the Vatican home
2015 he addressed the environment
on climate change caused by man
and issued a Catholic Church encyclical
the first-ever since Popes began
let's trust instructing his cardinals
to avoid any more scandals
when pontificating and preaching to

K The Marks of the Roman Catholic Church

The one true Church established  by Father Christ is the Roman Catholic Church
It is the Church which our Divine Lord started when He picked the 12 Apostles
And made St. Peter as their head
We know that the Roman Catholic Church is the one true Church established by Father Christ 
Because it alone has the mark

J The Roman Catholic Church

The Roman Catholic Church is a congregation of all baptized persons
United in the same true faith
The same sacrifice
And under the Holy Father
The Pope
Father Christ founded the Roman Catholic Church to bring all men to Eternal salvation
Father Christ gave the power to teach
To sanctify
And to rule the members of His Church to the Apostles
The 1st Bishops

Catholic Mass

Never did I think 
I would ever wish 
to see another Nun

now there is you 
in costume 
I am a heretic, 
always have been

dressed like a
has been priest
both of us ready 
to get on our knees

you threaten me
with lipstick,
a seductive red
I would be dead 
by morning

just want to bury 
my teeth in your 
neck and

Lapsed Catholic

I did not ask to be baptized ~ I see no need to play by their rules

Pantokrator

Would that we listened to his mercy,
to his gentle, soft voice as he begged
to heal our wounds.

Would that we looked twice at his loving gaze,
at the selfless passion that saw
a broken truth he wished to heal.

Would that we lived as he taught us,
putting our eternal souls - our greatest treasures -
above drunken bursts of pleasure

run to fun

My daddy—he once told me
don’t ever play with nuns
they’ll hit you with their rulers
it won’t be any fun

I snuck out of that prison
and now I’m on the run

Once freed from that schoolhouse
I sunbathed in the sun
I stayed out late, I went on dates
looking out for number-one

When I think of what I went through
of all the

I Drank the Blood

I drank the blood. 
Shuffled up to the altar,
pearly white shoes scraping over
faded white tile dirtied by the footsteps 
of countless sinners.
(I knew, even then, that that same grime already claimed my soul.)
I accepted the golden chalice with shaking 
hands and brought it 
ever so gently to my lips.
It tasted like poison, but I drank

O Holy Night

Fall is breathing its dying breaths
and a chill settles deeper into the air.
The first flakes of snow have dusted the ground
leaving the world glimmering,
starlight reflecting off each crystal
and casting a beautifully eerie glow.
Nighttime silence is unbroken 
save for the sound of my surreptitious breaths,
which cloud in front of me as they’re slowly released.
I can sense

Reignite - Promethea

The slowly imploding borders of an ancient empire,
lights flickering in a vast array of circuitry,
a battered starship adrift in the inky void-

our Church.

Yet, though the titaness is harried, old, and worn down,
shrinking, ridiculed, belittled, and cursed,

She is still strong...

A network of vast potential, seemingly obsolete and crumbling,
could bloom again with the radiance
of a thousand suns.

Break

Abide in Me

In anger, I scream at the wall.
In pain, onto my pillow I fall.
I take it out on my bed,
punching, my face turns red.
I grab my razor out of despair,
"nobody will see if I make the cut there."
For a minute, the pain subsides,
I take a breath as red fills the line.
For a brief time, I finally

Life Sought in Death

How shall it be that at His death
His breath
Sings a solemn anthem on repeat
So sweet,
As if He is not met with strife
In life.
The truth lies not in nailing knife,
He knows no desperation.
His death is our salvation;
His breath so sweet in life.

Facies Dei

Most radiant host, angelic glory be
Within thy blesséd grace, Portal of Faith.
In simple form You came, yet still through thee
We see theophony, through which God saith,

¨Dear child mine, most valiant flesh now is thine.
Hereby thy peace I grant, through darkest night
With burden light and blood of freshest vine.
My veil, most pale, shines forth the brightest

A Catholic Boy

Push me in the door once more.
Scrub me for the alter.
Return me to the sacraments,
the rituals,
the wafer and wine.

Place me, dazzled
among votive candles,
that are such fat bones
for the weak flesh.

To each Holy Sister, a token,
a little lingerie kept secretly-
a sign, that love
with all its depths, frippery and frills,
will prevail.

On a Sunday,
we will lower Him,
from the

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