Mine to Carry

I’ve cast a weight...    

       Yours to carry.

Hit hard, heart of hate;    

       Bitter! Better to bury.  

Forever friends, fine    

       Until that blade was sunk.

A forgotten past does shine    

       Past the good now debunk.  

Young years gone by.    

       Cheers! Joys of birth.

Jeers! Mirth now a cry.    

       Is this what it’s worth?  

But is it really you    

       I’ve hurt? For says God,

Full of mercy too,    

       “Truth be told, you’re both flawed!”  

“You’ve fixed a stone    

       Upon your back.”

Brown broken bricks thrown:    

       A loaded burlap sack.  

It’s only I that ache    

       For what I’ve placed.

To sever and take,     

       All that’s sound erased.  

To never forgive    

       Is to forget

The forgiveness He’ll give    

       You first must beget.  

To free her for good,    

       We’re freer to laugh.

Our friendship withstood,     

       Christ’s glory our path.  

- Gary Edward Geraci

Blessed Virgin Mary - Mother of the Church

If God desires it...

If God designs it...

If God delights in it...

If God delivers his

Son through the womb of the

Most Blessed Virgin Mary,

Then God deigns it...and so

The Church decrees it.

Even so, many a God-fearing

Human heart; disciples;

Still, a decree they dispute.

As if God could not have

Desired, designed, delighted, delivered,

And deigned the Mother of God; the Mother of the Church!

- Gary Edward Geraci

The Noisiest Things

Celebrity guests

Clang vainly regarding Christ;

Lacking prayer and grace.

Gary Edward Geraci 

Ad Populum: a reverse nonet

A

devil’s

power is

overstated,

profligate rulers

using lore to control

licentious “love” and longings;

unabated attempts to bind;

malign all that we truly worship.

- Gary Edward Geraci

Cactus Cafe

Civil, private public places, chic willow 

Placemats adorn a monumental mahogany bar

Where tonight, joyful patrons, diverse 

People, digest courteous discourse and

Chivalrous discussions to the tune of

Whether a Creator or random chance

Is the reason for the present moment.

Little waffling over late night waffles, 

Eggs, and coffee; talks of substance and 

Circumstance ensuing long into the night; 

Imbued by another round of signature,

Short stack, square, buttermilk pancakes milking

Ontological speculations until

Milked dry; driving everyone to drive themselves 

Home before the talks turned to trite tautologies. 

- Gary Edward Geraci