"novena" poems
We set out to honor Mary
traveling the pilgrim's path from west to east
We walked, we rode the bus
entertained and enchanted by Cristina
applauding Ramon along the way.
Each day was one of prayer and song, sunshine and fellowship
rosaries and novena
we submitted petitions to Santiago
we laughed with San Serapio
From the grand and magnificent cathedrals
to the humblest village chapel
we grew in faith, hearing God's word in many languages.
We marveled at the dedication and stamina of the pilgrims
making their way on foot and bicycle
at the warmth, generosity, and hospitality
they receive along the way
We picknicked alongside mountain streams
enjoying good food, good wine,and good friendship
we walked down the hillsides in the hot sunshine
passing the pilgrims going the opposite way
we quenched our thirst in a quaint and rustic village tavern.
Ramon drove with skill up the mountains to Garabandal
a remote village suspended in time and beauty
there on the mountain top we sat among the pines
where Mary had appeared.
We sat in silence, in awe and reverence
the only sounds, the whisper of the breeze and the cowbells on the hillside
We prayed the rosary
It was, for most of us, a most special memory
From our bus we looked out at the mountains
the green and rolling farmland
at the rocky Atlantic coast
at the rios and the rias.
We walked in procession at Fatima and Lourdes
by candlelight and moonlight
and again in the brilliant sunshine
The voices and the church bells
carried across the plazas
enveloping us in joy and prayer and mysticism
It was at the grotto at Lourdes
with my hands pressed on the rocky cave wall
with the holy water on my hands
that I felt Mary's presence
Mary, my mother, my sister, my friend
AVE MARIA
September, 2008
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 8:52 PM UTC
I wear messy buns to school
And a silver cross neck less my best friend gave me
I enjoy strumming the same four chords on a pink ukulele
And enjoy staying late after track just to hang out with the coaches
I am now always listening to Jimmy Buffet and putting on sun screen
And am obsessed with plants, especially my new garden
I pray the divine mercy novena prayers at night
And I spend my school days looking up future mission trips, going on ifunny and taking personality quizzes
Catch me shipping superheroes and being obsessed with Deadpool
Or reading the newest Louis T conspiracies
I spend my free time in the hot tub or on a jet ski
My favorite time of day is around 7:30- 8 AM when the sun rays turn bright yellow
My favorite season is spring because I love green a lot now
I'd say I'm fairly happy, but am prone to depressed moments throughout a day
My family is tense and awkward but I love them all
And my life is very enjoyable
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC
At sun dance my parade arrives,
White daisy chains accent my eyes.
My laughter and my love to buy,
For suitors and their hopeful prize.
In parables, the May Queen sings-
For princely dance and laurel rings.
What gold you'd give to hear me think,
Swell with chivalry or slowly shrink.
I have been preserved for righteousnesses.
But when novena days come to a rest,
At sun dance, love shall turn to life.
A May Queen, and ethereal wife.
Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 12:04 PM UTC
When this building stopped existing as a merry-go-round
and the patients came to and from another abode,
someone planted daisies in the hallways
where, in slumber, brothers thought of their sisters or
shared their blanket with the more sad person next door.
Some of the daisies have their axis half-picked
like mooncrests and all appear like brides in a snow white
too pure for this place where no love was made –
rather a home for bad loves to be pulled out, taken away.
But before the doors were locked and sealed
some alumni snuck in to lace between a blooming layer:
I dipped in a toe, you dove headfirst, she used hands
to strain uncontaminated soil upon a paisley pattern
and said a novena for where we became blank slates, too.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
He bebido del chorro cándido de la fuente.
Traigo los labios frescos y la cara mojada.
Mi boca hoy tiene toda la estupenda dulzura
de una rosa jugosa, nueva y recién cortada.
El cielo ostenta una limpidez de diamante.
Estoy ebria de tarde, de viento y primavera.
¿No sientes en mis trenzas olor a trigo ondeante?
¿No me hallas hoy flexible como una enredadera?
Elástica de gozo como un gamo he corrido
por todos los ceñudos senderos de la sierra.
Y el galgo cazador que es mi guía, rendido,
se ha acostado a mis pies, largo a largo, en la tierra.
¡Ah, qué inmensa fatiga me derriba en la grama
y abate en tus rodillas mi cabeza morena,
mientras que de una iglesia campesina y lejana
nos llega un lento y grave llamado de novena!
1k
Float, flicker flame.
Swimming in champagne.
Dream, sleeping iris.
You will not miss a thing.
Make believe desire,
Originate Anew.
Reality would be
Rude to awaken you.
Nine days is not too soon
After all the patience,
For faith to finally bloom,
Self-created credence.
Float, flicker flame.
Swimming in champagne.
Dream, sleeping iris.
You will not miss a thing.
Nine days is not too far off,
For hope to hold onto you.
Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 7:59 PM UTC
*Last night was hard for everyone, for all of us
The moon noticed your obvious absence and lit bright trying to trace you from every corner of the universe
the stars were sad and they tried so hard to blink back their tears
even the nimbus clouds detected the heartbreaking melancholy
and tried to blanket them from the chilling cold of solitude
but the twinkling stars still struggled to peep through
the blanket cast between them and your absence
like little children afraid of the dark until the clouds gave up
for even they ,no matter how strong they pretended to be
the weight of despondence got the better of them
and they subsequently expressed their pain in burdened tears of rain
the roof tried to hold the tears from my unconscious sight
but my ears sadly caught the pattering sobs
darkness whispered some advise but my ears were too sad to hear
and my brain numbed by the scintillating thoughts about you
I tried to kick out the emptiness through listening to the radio
but my fingers were too frozen and weak to turn the ****
so I gave up and just sat quietly inside the net listening to a silence
whose eloquence was labyrinthine and discombobulating
because weaved within mosquitoes did their best to sing me a lullaby
but in anger I violently swatted as many and as many did die
it still was hell hot with my limpid Heart ice cold
yet I still hoped against all odds you would appear
I waited for you like Santa waiting for Christmas,
like anxious Jews waiting for the coming Messiah,
like the Mediterranean sea patiently waits for waters of the Nile,
like a Groom waits for his Bride as she walks across the isle,
I waited for you like a lass waiting for a Telenovela...
or a staunch catholic waiting for a positive eventuality to his Novena,
I waited like the minute hand waits for the second hand of the clock
like the dull pulse of the heart waits to happen after the loud one...
I waited for you like an insomniac waiting for sleep,
sadly sleep never came... so I gave up to wait for the next day
like the invisible sun through a night knowing in the dawn my voice
might reach you like beautiful rays and whisper
to the far that is near how I wish you were here
in a message right into your small pretty ears
I missed you like a baby misses its mother,desperately and in tears*
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 1:43 PM UTC
Tu paz -¡oh paz de cada día!-
y mi dolor que es inmortal,
se han de casar, Amada mía,
en una noche cuaresmal.
Quizá en un Viernes de Dolores,
cuando se anuncian ya las flores
y en el altar que huele a lirios
el casto pecho de María
sufre por nos siete martirios;
mientras la luna, Amada mía,
deja caer sus tenues franjas
de luz de ensueño sideral
sobre las místicas naranjas
que, por el arte virginal
de las doncellas de la aldea,
lucen banderas de papel
e irisaciones de oropel
sobre la piel que amarillea.
Fuensanta: al amor aventurero
de cálidas mujeres, azafatas
súbditas de la carne, te prefiero
por la frescura de tus manos gratas.
Yo te convido, dulce Amada,
a que te cases con mi pena
entre los vasos de cebada
la última noche de novena.
Te ha de cubrir la luna llena
con luz de túnica nupcial
y nos dará la Dolorosa
la bendición sacramental.
Y así podré llamarte esposa,
y haremos juntos la dichosa
ruta evangélica del bien
hasta la eterna gloria.
AMÉN.
729
The little girl looks at her reflection
In the train window
She begins play acting
oblivious to those around her
The old man in the corner seat
cannot suppress a smile
Suddenly their eyes meet
And she takes cover
The crowd swells in as people jostle for space
The intercom resonates
Train door is closing..
Please mind the platform gap
She turns to her mother
Pleading to play a game with her
She recites the names of the stations
Novena, Newton, Orchard, Somerset..
The young lad sways to and fro
Unable to control his sleep
He is shaken from his dream
By the lady beside him
Suddenly it turns dark
The train passes a tunnel
The little girl hugs her mother
And eagerly awaits the light
All around people tapping
smartphones and tablets
Checking out social media and games
Absorbed, riveted and focussed
The girl runs to the window
Amazed by sight of boats in a row
serene waters and blue clouds
Skirted by green trees
Events change along the train ride
one after another like patterns
Of a kaleidoscope
Surprises waiting to unfold
© copyright skm
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 4:53 AM UTC
I still remember
Standing by the window of the hospital
Entering and leaving
Entering and leaving
I'm back again
I check on you
I look out the window
I look at you
I asked if you were okay
You were not quite okay
I watched you in peace
And then I was awake
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 1:14 AM UTC
Either your Phrase, your Cause, your Sensation
Blind or Reveal your Inner Tendons prove
Which we, of Loyal Customers mention
To purchase more of this Shop-Lifted Good
It's never wrong to Share such Blessings once
Or pray a Novena to concilliate
Or - ask the Pope's Palm for amusement - bounce,
An expected Fantasy anticipate
From whose Permission, then, shall we beseech
To beg your Insights in deep, due respect
Or, by a Tooth-brush are we out-of-reach
Would then bolt your Castle by circumspect.
You are still a Knight. Half-Armoured at that
That part which still bares - embalm with a mat.
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 1:59 AM UTC
Del amor y sus riquezas,
del amor y sus pobrezas
el amor junto a tu lado..
es el único que me interesa.
Si estamos abrigados, sea;
en el fardo de heno
en el frio aire campestre,
en una mansión o en un piso de tierra,
no importa donde sea,
si en la ciudad de las luces
o en la pobreza de Burundi,
del amor y sus riquezas,
del amor y sus pobrezas,
si estoy a tu costado,
me siento saciada y plena.
No importa si comemos caviar,
no importa si no nos toca viajar,
bordando sueños en tu dulce mirada,
arropada entre tus brazos
he encontrado yo, la novena maravilla,
en la dulzura de tu sonrisa.
Del amor y sus altibajos,
me deslizo entre tus labios,
tejiendo con ilusión en cada beso
la frazada que cobijara este ensueño,
de encontrarnos en el trayecto,
de reconocer en una mirada
el amor que alguna vez decretamos
como el único que esperábamos.
Del amor y sus riquezas,
del amor y sus pobrezas,
del amor y sus altibajos,
del amor que se promete,
de ese que se cansa y luego rejuvenece,
en un perdón con un beso en la cabeza,
o en el que se engancha a una camisa,
remendando aquellas palabras rotas,
sea en el fardo de heno,
en una mansión o en el suelo,
ya que lo único que importa,
es vivir este amor con grandeza y con empeño.
LeydisProse
11/24/2017
https://m.facebook.com/LeydisProse/
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
Me miras con perfidia
pretendiendo domar mi recinto.
Presumes tu sabiduría
sin saber que yo soy, ¡guía audaz!
Que llevo más de diez vidas
perfeccionando mis gritos,
cuyo sonidos te llevaran al
olimpo de los seres invictos.
Gimos con algoritmos que descifran
los calóricos revoltillos de una mente esculpida
que sabe sumergirse; en insondable pozos,
complacerte, hasta que logres tu propósito,
hasta que digas ¡eureka! la novena maravilla,
la he encontrado, en tu llanto pasional.
Me miras y pretendes amedrentarme,
pretendes que huya de mi desnudez
y yo sencillamente, te reto a que te
atiborres de mi ser..,
a que te pierdas en mi querer;
que no te avergüences de mi placer y
que escuches en mis suspiros
los quejidos de mi erotismo.
Me miras como quien pretende impresionar
y yo con la mirada fija..,
te reto a que descubras mi castidad;
Que te enganches de mi honduras,
que te aferres a mi cintura,
que te enamores de mi sabrosura,
que te deshagas de tu cordura
y respondas al clamo de mis deseos
que te hacen un llamado visceral.
Que apruebes conmigo los sabores del tiempo,
con feroces besos, que van componiendo
la canción perfecta, hasta que lleguemos
a nuestro destino pasional.
Te dije alguna vez y te lo diré otra vez,
“Yo no gimo, yo gruñó como loba,
maulló como perra” brinco hasta
afincarme en tus cinco sentidos,
y logres entender, que tú serás un lobo maldito,
pero, a mi amor !no lo puedes someter!
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC