Mary Catherine Morra: Poems

Jul 2016 · 816

Mary Catherine Morra Jul 2016

We met on a breezy August evening
I knew then my life would not be the same.
Her greeting was subtle, a mere gentle touch,
I feared she was lethal; I suspected her name.

Dangerous Companion,
Where did you come from?
Dangerous Companion,
Why are you here?
Dangerous Companion,
I will attack you!
I will defeat you!
I will destroy you!
But… I am afraid

“I know who you are!” I shouted with fear
“Get out of my life!” I pleaded (I begged)
“I’m not leaving yet- there’s much to be done.
You must walk with me now.” she softly said.

“I will die if you linger!” I screamed in her face
“You’ve been dying forever, entombed in your fears.”
“My surgeon will **** you and cast you away!”
“She won’t **** my mission- now mop up those tears!”

Dangerous Companion,
Where did you come from?
Dangerous Companion,
Why are you here?
Dangerous Companion,
I will attack you!
I will defeat you!
I will destroy you!
Still… I am afraid

Our journey together began with our parting
By scalpel and stitches, and surgical tape.
She then went her own way, and I to recovery
The severance complete- my new future to make.

Knives and injections have sent her afar
Yet her spirit lives in me and toughens my will
To shatter illusions and live without fear
Even should she come back to walk with me still.

Dangerous Companion
It hasn’t been easy.
Dangerous Companion,
The pain is so deep.
Dangerous Companion,
I’m oddly grateful,
You took what was dear to me
Yet uncovered the depth of me.

I’m destined to live!

I wrote this poem in 2002, a few months after having completed chemo for breast cancer. Honestly, I felt as if the poem was being written through me rather than by me. Please copy and share with anyone you feel might be comforted by this.

#fear #cancer #journey

Jun 2016 · 591

I Set it Down

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

I Set it Down

I set it down
just a minute ago…
that Grudge I’ve been holding
Now, where did it go?

It’s not in my baggage
of Past Hurt and Pain.
nor is it in Pride.
Is it hiding In Sane?

Without it I just won’t
know what to do
on that some-day day
When I bump into you.

I might have to accept
that this is the end
of the heart-to-heart combat
of used-to-be friends.

Sometimes we nurture our grudges as if they are our children. We name them and hold them dear to us. But what might might happen if we forget where we last saw them ?

#poem #friendship #forgiveness #gridges

Jun 2016 · 576

Elohim!

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

Elohim!

Elohim!
(I)

trusted friend… betrays
healing hands… pierced
holy teacher… silenced
and nailed to a cross
“Jesus of Nazareth
King of the Jews”
*
my son
died today

Elohim!
(II)

Heed my voice crying in the wilderness!
Do not abandon me in my anguish
But attend, and weep with me now!
for blood rage would not be subdued!
“His blood be on us!” they cried”
“And on our children!” they shouted

Shine your light of mercy on my soul!
I stumble through the bleak wasteland of grief,
blinded by infinite darkness!
for blood rage would not be subdued!
“His blood be on us!” they cried”
“And on our children!” they shouted

The righteous cry but does the Lord hear?
I call unto you as my son did cry
“Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?”
for blood rage would not be subdued!
“His blood be on us!” they cried”
“And on our children!” they shouted

Elohim!
(III)

Silently
He watches the sleeping woman,
in the unquiet repose known only to a grieving mother
she moans, “blood rage…powerless.. my son”
“Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani!”
Tears well in his eyes
As his heart is once again pierced

Gently
his hand brushes her forehead
the touch causing her to stir slightly
and cast it away as though a fleck of dust
dare intrude on her personal nightmare.
Kissing her cheeks, her eyes,
He whispers *“Mother!”

one of my final poems in Ave Maria. Although Mary is the main character, I believe she represents so many mothers who have lost their sons, through war, execution, crime, suicide. Would love to hear your input

#death #mother #mourning #mary

Jun 2016 · 475

Pour the Wine, Hold the Cheese

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

Pour the Wine, Hold the Cheese

Should I ask this question on the test?
Is it something they should know?
Will omitting it affect their lives?
My Merlot tells me no! (he never lies)

They might not ever need this, sigh…
Might be a waste of time,
It might be just as pointless
As nonalcoholic wine. ( heaven forbid!)

I guess I must get to it now
It’s almost 1 am
I’ll pour another glass of wine
Oh ****! Where is my pen?

same poem about taking a test from the teacher's point of view. enjoy!

#poem #funny #test #whine

Jun 2016 · 1.2k

A little Whine with that Cheese?

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

A little Whine with that Cheese?

Will this be on the test?
Is it what I need to know?
Will not knowing it affect my grade?
Where does the heading go?

I’ll never use this, ever! grrr…
It’s such a waste of time!
It just that it’s so pointless
Like nonalcoholic wine! eek!

I’d rather clean the toilet…
I’d rather eat a worm!
Than study all this foolishness
But I have to pass this term!

all about studying for a chemistry test(I used to teach chemistry), from the student's point of view. I'm posting the same scenario from the teacher's point in my next submission. hope you can relate and enjoy.

#wine #humor #test #whine

Jun 2016 · 443

God’s Grace

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

God’s Grace

Sleep dear cousin, labor’s done
“God’s Grace” slumbers in your arms
Safe and warm and loved

*my pregnant womb flutters
or does it quake?

Now Elisabeth's full time came that she should
be delivered; and she brought forth a son.
4th in the "Ave Maria" series.

#poem #baby #rest #mary #elisabeth

Jun 2016 · 694

My Purity Drowns in Whispers of Scandal

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

My Purity Drowns in Whispers of Scandal

Yesterday, was Holy.
Celestial greetings bid,
Sacred Plan proposed,
Divine Kingdom promised!

Truth or fancy?
My womb flutters…
Truth!

Today, Mother’s tears are endless,
Father’s eyes dismiss me,
And oh, my love, my Joseph
recoils from my touch!

Tomorrow, I leave home
for other plans have been made.

*Whose plan now shall I follow?

second poem in "Ave Maria" series. Mary has told the happy news to a not so excited family. I think many unmarried teen moms to be might relate to this. I remember a time young girls would be sent to live with an "aunt" for a few months.

#poem #teen #pregnancy #unmarried

Jun 2016 · 312

Celestial Visit

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

Celestial Visit

Hark! the Herald Angel!
bearing a message
a hint of a plan
a blessing from God
I am
deeply troubled

Hark! the Herald Angel!
detailing the plan
a baby, a kingdom,
a light for the world
‘tis mine
to decide

Hark! the Herald Angel!
departing in silence
God’s power is rested
Spirit enfolds
*my story
begins

This is the first of a series of "Ave Maria" poems. Not intended to be religious or preachy, just the story from a teenage girl's perspective.

#angel #mary

Jun 2016 · 649

Baby Time

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

Baby Time

two women
matron and maiden
pregnant with divinity

carry sons
chosen to prepare a way
and establish a kingdom

carry sons
destined to baptize and to heal
and to die (one will rise)

but for today
matron and maiden
pregnant with divinity

delight in figs and tea
and weave soft blankets
and giggle with baby-time anticipation

this is my take on how it might have gone down for Mary and Elisabeth. Mary being sent off to "help" her aged cousin with her pregnancy, because they did not know what else to do with her, and also to save her from possible stoning. But I think that Elisabeth was the only one who really understood this young maiden.

#mary #elisabeth

Jun 2016 · 521

December 14, 2012

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

December 14, 2012

Class is done today
Sanguinary dismissal
Sorrowful homework

The Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting broke my heart, as I know it broke the collective heart in this great nation,. So sad the pain wasn't so great as to ban assault rifles.

#shooting #hook #sandy

Jun 2016 · 579

Letting Go

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

Letting Go

tiny hand slips from my finger
“me do!” he boldly declares

pit-pat first step
he beams, I smile
pit-pat second step
“me do?” “you do”

Pit-pat third step
thump- I reach…
“no! me do!”
up again pit-pat

pit-pat, pit-pat, “me do! me do!”
Singing - chanting - laughing - marching

pit-pat goes my heart
learning to let go

This poem is part of my anthology about Mary, mother of Jesus, but it's also about the bittersweet moments felt all moms and dads, of baby's first steps.We are thrilled about baby's accomplishment, but a little sad knowing that this is our first call to "let go"

#first #poetry #steps #baby

Jun 2016 · 567

It's a Facebook Kind of Day (Isn't that every day?)

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

It's a Facebook Kind of Day (Isn't that every day?)

Coffee’s brewin’! Breakfast’s ready
Logging in to fb news
Screen’s a glowing- click the icon
Hoping I won’t get the blues

Fb login pw stronger
Are there messages for me?
Memories from 2 years ago
Show me how it used to be

Scroll down scroll down, puppy pictures!
Cute and funny photo fare
Type Amen cuz I love Jesus
Share this post to prove I care

Ooo! A test to know my angels
Good to know she’s got my back
What does the color purple mean?
DIY? I can’t do that!

*** Is Donald singing?
Bernie’s busy counting votes!
Hillary is text-deleting
Did you see those dancing goats?

Talking pugs and grumpy kitties
Lol! they’re here to stay!
“T-Rex Tuesday”, “Throwback Thursday”
It’s a Facebook Kind of Day

Ty. Like and share or 27 kittens will be run over by a truck

" Ok friends, I admit it: I really enjoy Facebook! so this is my tribute to the cliches we have all come to know and love. Feel free to add a stanza or two, have fun! "

#facebook

Jun 2016 · 628

Last Supper

Mary Catherine Morra Jun 2016

Last Supper

Our Last Supper, in truth, was a luncheon, but no matter-
It’s the breaking of bread, the holy communion,
The wine, the Manhattans, the beer that counts.

Together one last time, raising our glasses to “whatever”
Vowing to preserve our little circle, no matter what
Like the heartbroken little apostles that we are.

Before our meal’s done, we plan the next Sacred Gathering
A cookout in August, a “*** luck” in February, and so on,
Because one “Last Supper” is never enough

Author’s Note: I wrote this poem in 2012 when the doors of the school at which I taught closed for good. It was a Catholic School if you didn’t guess.

— The End —