Jeffrey Baldwin 1997-2002
Friends, you’ve got many, they’ve got your back now.
Unimaginable support friend, your
Cause, a just eruption of memory.
Karma. Rather, God-making-good, your life
One like no other. God let there be no other.
Freed finally from the bonds of abject cruelty;
Flying high now, within the Bliss of the Eternal.
Superman, a bronze statue in your honor.
Abusers, yours are locked away, forgotten.
The conscience begs to save its soul,
Annihilation is not an option. For
Neither neglector nor unrepentant sinner escapes the burning fires of hell.
Gary Edward Geraci
Beware, the acrostic is foul here (the first letter of each capitalized line contains a message), many of you will be offended, but so offensive indeed are the deeds that inspired this poem and at its core, the true doer of the deeds, Satan. The real life story of this little boy is not an easy one. “To the feet of Jesus” is a command Father Spitzer teaches one to say when foreboding feelings dominate; when evil in the air is palpable. Hey, I’m no material for canonized sainthood but I do look to my St Benedict medal and read the initials on the back and remember what they stand for: “Vade Retro Satana, Nunquam Suade Mihi Vana — Sunt Mala Quae Libas, Ipse Venena Bibas.” Be gone Satan! Do not tell me your lies. Evil are your words, drink your own poison!
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