Holy Water Fount

Matter is the stuff made Holy

Space matter mattered

Now no matter what

Matter is the stuff made Holy

Creatures of matter

Not by their merit

Matter is the stuff made Holy

Our mothers matter

Christ’s Mother mattered

Matter is the stuff made Holy

Logos now Matter

The Master Maestro

Matter is the stuff made Holy

Man mocked yet atoned

Misfortune matters

Matter is the stuff made Holy

Gary Edward Geraci

Bruised Reed

Came to film my bad behavior

No, not her that needs a Savior

Gawks, hounds, nags: the indecorum!

Judge and juror she’s the quorum

Smart phone pointed my direction

But the lens missed her inspection

Silly sinner so full of pride

Her live stream sent now far and wide

Gary Edward Geraci

Recalcitrant (for not being ‘this or that’ kind of poet)

No one in the end is happy with me.

I tire myself out with schedules and Masses,

Writing and trying to serve all classes.

It’s never enough though, there’s always something 

Lacking; it’s beyond my ken, comprehension;

Scorned by the culture, even religious men.

Devil be gone with my middle finger! 

Jesus Christ I trust, you’re the only one,

To love me as I am, a beloved son.

Gary Edward Geraci

Forever Closed

Purgatory is not a 

Permanent place, a place that’s

Pinned on the map and never 

Changing. A purifying 

Place absent pall, the parlor 

Pallor while the parliament

Deliberates, Heaven is

Assured in this very place.

One day soon, without a doubt, 

Its last inhabitant will 

Slip out to join you and me,

Spring into community,

That door now forever closed. 

Gary Edward Geraci

Fishing for Men

Sola Scriptura a shackle?

Try to tackle.

About those first three-hundred years?

Disappears.

Was the commission to Baptize?

No surprise.

Best bait a bass under dull skies

With rod and reel and smooth movement.

Fish for men who need atonement;

Tackle disappears - no surprise.