A Second Covid Easter
Last year the Holy Mass was forbidden by law
An eleventh plague blighted land and air
And so for us there was no exodus
From the brick pits in which we found ourselves
A Sequence of Poems for Holy Week
The air is thurified – the incense given
Our Lord upon His birth is fumed at last;
The censer’s chains, clanking like manacles
Offend against the silence at the end of Mass
Communing With the Eternal
A meal’s prepared,
The Spirit waits to welcome them there,
Or here,
Palm Sunday Well-Sanitized
There is social distancing in Jerusalem
Mostly among Romans and Greeks and Jews
Who don’t much like each other anyway –
How is this day different from all other days?
Making Maids
I fell asleep thinking about swollen river banks – it’s
Rained for two days straight. Overnight,
Thunder rolled outside as I rolled over
In my sleep, and woke
Thinking of Moses…
Greg’s All Night Diner
From the diary of Katherine Craig.
Dear Diary,
Today began about 6:30 AM, when my ears were assaulted by the unmistakable racket of my Pa playing bagpipes on the front lawn.
When You are Chosen as Poet Laureate
Do you suppose someday you’ll see your name
In the content pages of an Oxford book
An Oxford book of verse for this or that
Among the greats (who will want your autograph)
The Grave Necessity of Superficial Things
Churchmen everywhere emptied out from their sermons such abhorrent things as doctrines and definitions, they got rid of “all that ritual nonsense” that the fast-moving modern couldn’t stomach – in short, they tried to bring back the common man by meeting him halfway. What they actually did was to confirm him in his skepticism by offering a second-rate relativism which neither satisfied his taste for fashion nor reignited in him an actual love for truth. Religion, it seemed, capitulated to the fads of the world.
Read MoreChangeling
“Another hell-hole opened up on my mail route!” the mailman said excitedly.
“Great. Another one” said Conrad with exasperation. We were all the time having to close them things.
The Ministry of Clockery
Change for the sake of change – spare change? Spare change?
There must be a Ministry of Clockery
With Cratchit-y clerks drawing clocks at their desks
Supervised by a Scrooge of Clockery
God, Water & Gratitude
“You go to Taco Bell, and if you don’t want a Coke, you want ‘just water.’ Just water? JUST water?! It’s the whole reason you’re alive, but it’s free, so you treat it like it’s nothing!”
My friend was on to something.
A Response to Q-ness – I Will Never Take Instruction from a Consonant
Whenever I’m down, and feeling a little blue
I wonder whatever it is I can do
What traditional learning I can pursue
To recover the happiness I once knew
Prayer Beads Booklet
We have put together various new and previously published stories and articles in order to give you a diverse look about different ways to pray with prayer beads.
Read MoreDon’t Push Me Away
The old man scoffed. Great. The Christians were knocking at his door again. Years and years they had been knocking and he would refuse but he could not shut the door on a kid.
Read MoreCitizen Potato Head is a Class Enemy
“Mr.” indeed! No, no, Citizen Potato Head!
Bourgeois titles are forbidden by law
As are toys lacking in social realism
Clearly you are no good Comrade of ours
Homeschool, Screenschool, Noschool
Today’s first lesson is that no such construct as “homeschool” exists, either as a noun or as a verb. When your father taught you hunting safety he did not homeschool you; he taught you. If your sixth-grade teacher taught you not to spit tobacco into the classroom litter basket because your parents failed in their duty of teaching basic hygiene, manners, and dignity, he did not schoolhome you.
Read MoreRobin Goodfellow and the Ring of Doom
“You want me to get your magic ring from one of the most heavily guarded places in the universe?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”
The task was a daunting one. Annwyn was a place of powerful, wicked gods, and hideous monsters. It was a place of terror beyond all comprehension.
Someday a New Arthur
Someday a new Merlin among the ruins
Will give a new Arthur a trove of hidden books:
Chaucer and Milton, Shakespeare, Coleridge, Keats
And maybe even long silent Malory…
Ice Wednesday
Many crosses of ice but no ashes
Trees sagging from the icicles dragging
Little birds desperate for last summer’s seeds
The ice ground whitening, whitening, disappearing
An Alphabetic Acrostic
Abba Father, what am I that thou wouldst knowledge me?
Behold, I am iniquitous and unclean!
Cleanse me and clean me within!
LogoSophia Magazine 