Short Papal Poems

Grand basilicas
built to papal false idols
of graven image -
to apostate relics from
pagan Rome and Babylon!...

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Blue
Divine 
Shine
Madonna and Child
Suffocate the Papal decreed 
Sowed the seeds 
Indoctrinated godly status
Art distorted the power courted 
For Church convention 
Hidden shackled 
Never to tackle...

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The farther I get from religion
the closer I get to God
Clouds blown free—new imagery
a seed in Heaven’s pod

The farther I get from the papal bull
the closer His voice I hear
Grace so blessed—divine GPS
directions loud and clear

(Dundale: September, 2023)...

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My brother went to limbo
Stillborn and unbaptized
Faultless but Original Sin
Status unknown
A soul in liminal space
Lost between heaven and hell 
Damnation spared 
Salvation denied 
Consigned by papal decree
Resigned to the Mercy of God 
Wrenched, a mother's heart...

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Sadly,
The truths they claimed
Would set me free
Rotted
In the souls of twisted vines
And broken branches.
Decay
Spreading from stagnant soil
Through the roots
And twisted bramble
To the towering
Papal tiara.
Thus, freedom came
And I was lost
Left alone
To seek a truth
Unknown
To them
Yet longing
to be discovered....

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let me think i
think it was
yesterday
but if 
you
are

irish well then
isn't every day
a day to keep
in mind that
the church
doesn't

want to 
remind us how
much and or how
many lives have been
spared from the bite of 
an asp but please don't ask

were there
any snakes
to be banished
at all but with slight
of hand Padraic took
a papal stand and surely

killed but
almost 
all of 
the 
wee 

people...

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dayspot caskets introduce the introductions... 

....parenthesis with nothing in between them.......
.. patterns and builders in the open fields 
destroy what little was left... 
... ..... ......
..waiting for the explanation.. 
the reason for the hesitation....
 the papal heart in the wreathed skin 

of a divine second guesser.....
skips a beat.. skips a line..
 forgets the need to forgive 
and hardens to the touch......

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Autumn leaves fall,
Like parachutes,
God's perfection,
Empty branches of yesterday,
The trees tall and vacant,
The earth carpeted ,
With the rainbow foliage,
The sun shines through,
Above the evergreens,
A blue jay can be seen,
The cardinal nearby,
Papal red in color,
Just to be there,
The cool fresh breeze,
Touches your shoulder,
A walk amongst,
God's paradise,
To return home,
Warm and safe.

Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz...

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what is it about the arts
of living, of loving
possessing
a perspective piece of perseverance
a masterpiece of perfect
imperfections

I her Rembrandt
baroque with dominance
revered to deference

sketches
upon a papal pad
indentured within
ashes bellowing
from the dead
examined
breast to head

curled in creases
crest created and waned
wanted wistful and tamed
no answers
only clouded visions
remain...

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ESPERANCE

Where there’s life there’s hope
As vital signs may be detected
And presents a chance to cope
However we may be affected

Yet can any of us really see it
Whether obscured in fantasy
Or clearly stated in Papal fiat
A different kind of hypocrisy

When good prospects emerge
And all are confirmed as real
Unspent emotions start to surge
A tidal wave that one can feel

Hope remains the final portal
For those of us who are mortal...

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thru notes of distinction
diversion dots the silent eye
distracted
in papal set
where deepness holds
her self regret

lingered, lost
within imperfect past
how can one live
how can one last

mental inequity
meanders
about the steam
of tepid tea
and thoughts of intrepidity

to live
to last
to stand alone

mirrored amid the truth
trusting
not only darkness will be called home
but more than a tunnel
will be holding on
to lasting light...

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