Poetry Post: The World State by G K Chesterton

Oh, how I love Humanity

With love so pure and pringlish,

And how I hate the horrid French,

Who never will be English!

The International Idea,

The largest and the clearest,

Is welding all the nations now,

Except the one that’s nearest.

This compromise has long been known,

This scheme of partial pardons,

In ethical societies

And small suburban gardens—

The villas and the chapels where

I learned with little labour

The way to love my fellow-man

And to hate my next-door neighbor.

G.K. Chesterton

For a War Memorial

The following poem is one I found in a Book of Poems by G K Chesterton in Penny Banister's Bookstore
Two things.
This poem is amazing.
And you should go and visit Penny.

The poem:

For a War Memorial
(Suggested Inscription probably not selected by the Committee.)

The hucksters haggle in the mart
The cars and carts go by;
Senates and schools go droning on;
For dead things cannot die. 

A storm stooped on the place of tombs
With bolts to blast and rive;
But these be names of many men
The lightning found alive. 

If usurers rule and rights decay
And visions view once more
Great Carthage like a golden shell
Gape hollow on the shore, 

Still to the last of crumbling time
Upon this stone be read
How many men of England died
To prove they were not dead.

Just read this over a few times. Slowly.

See how amazing Uncle Gilbert is? This is why he should be studied in classrooms and lecture halls alongside Dickens (Chesterton's biography of whom I have recently started,) Elliot, Pope, Lewis et c.

This has been a post.

Jesus,

I am so far away right now.
 How can I get back?
Confession.
Yeah, but it's so hard.
"So was the Cross," I hear you say.
And I know that you're right.
Oh, my Lord, be my Lord.
Help me.
 Oh Lord, You are my only joy; give me again the joy of your help.
 In the secret of my heart, teach me wisdom
That I may teach this transgressor Your ways
And that I may return to You.
See: in guilt I was born, a sinner was I conceived.
Yet - oh, my God! - You washed me from my guilt and cleansed me from my sin!
In the saving Water, You cleansed me and gave me to drink from that spring of Eternal Life.
But, my Jesus, I have rejected You.
 I have turned aside to the right and the left.
 Depart from me, Oh Lord, for I am a sinner.
Yet, be gracious and do not hide Your Face.
Give me the Actual Grace to get back, please.
Please, Jesus. I want to;
I desire You.
You are enough for me;
I ask for nothing more.

Writing.

I havn't written here in a long time.
The poems I've posted have been written for other purposes.


This, however, is a vain attempt at writing something, different.

Stuff it. That's not going to work.
I can not currently put what I'm thinking or feeling into sentences and paragraphs.
That's why my tumblog has been overused of late.

I want to write something that is at once meaningful and universal.
I want to write something that is at once interesting and personal.
I want to write something that is at once poigniant and popular.

I want to write something at once.

The Shell: A Mothers' Day Poem

What is the shell?
It is a home.
A place to dwell,
A place to live, and to live well.

What is the shell?
It is protection.
Against the storm,
And when it‘s cold, to keep us warm.

What is the shell?
It is a jewel.
Its beauty shines,
The Sun it reflects, ‘round curvèd lines.

What is the shell?
It is a bard.
It tells its story,
Listen: it whispers, tells of its glory.

What is the shell?
It is like mum.

Her beauty shines, she gives protection,
The stories she tells are home’s reflection.

What is a mum? What is a shell?
Of both, you see, no tongue can tell.

This poem, then, is but a start,
More lies within, within the heart.

Catholic Women! There is something you MUST know.

You are amazing, and beautiful
and Our Lord and God, our Brother and our Spouse
considers you His own beloved
individually and coroprately
He wants nothing other than your happiness
Supreme and Eternal

Give Him what He desires
Give Him yourself
So that He can transform you into Himself
and, thus,
make you infintiely happy
and happy in the finite, too.

Make Me So Aware (Our Union)

My heart, oh Lord, it aches.

But it is a dull ache.

I feel but do not feel.

I yearn to yearn, but do not.



Christ Jesus, you were forsaken

yet not alone. Desolate

but not abandoned. Struck down

but not destroyed.



Consume me, as I consume You...

As I approach You,very You run to meet me.

Make me into Yourself.

As bread becomes part of me,

it becomes Wholly You. This Bread

Come down from Heaven

Enters me, that I mat enter

Him. You.



Jesus, may I be so enthralled

by the mystery of your Body and Blood

by the Passion of Your Sacred Heart

that I will always be

aware

and feel

in my poor heart

the effects of Your Redemption

the affects of York Redemption.



Our union.



Make me a log in the furnace of Your love.



Consume me.

Make me one with You.

Make me burn with the fire of Your love.

Make me the fire of Your love.

Make me.

Remake me.

Create a new heart for me.

Jesus, make my heart like Yours. Make my heart Yours.



The Mass is ended. It Missal Est.

Let me be so aware of our union, Jesus,

that I am, that I become, that I

am

You, Your love, Your Heart

to the world.

Amen

Nil hoc verbo Veritatis verius. (Truth Himself speaks truly, or there's nothing true.)

I.

You are my Beloved, Kelly.

Kelly, Kelly. Listen to Me.

I love you. You are my prized possession.

More than that: I love you so very much.

Can't you see?

You look at My Sacred Heart and see

only a refuge.

It is a refuge

but a refuge of love,

for love

for my beloved.

Kelly,

for you.



I love you.

You are My Beloved.

What can I do to show you this?

Listen, oh listen!

Kelly!

I call you My Beloved

and so you are.

You don't know words greater than

Beloved

if you did, I could express myself with them

Oh My Beloved!



Behold! Look! I come!

Running to you,

My Beloved.



Why do you turn from Me?

Do you not love Me?

Mary Had a Little Lamb

Lauren and I were talking the other night about hidden meanings.
We started reading religious (specifically Christian) connotations into various Nursery Rhymes.
These connotations, at least for the most part, are not actually there in the Rhyme.
Saying that, some of them sounded convincing, at least to us.

To Lauren, at this point, I'd like to say that I've changed some of the interpretations that we discussed to make them sound slightly more plausible.

Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb.

Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow.

[Mary, Our Lady, gave birth to Jesus who in true humility (littleness) became the Spotless Lamb for us]
Everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went;

Everywhere that Mary went, that lamb was sure to go.

[Mary leads us always to Christ. That is to say, wherever Mary is venerated (hyperdulia), Our Lord will necessarily be adored (latria)]

It followed her to school one day, school one day, school one day;

It followed her to school one day: it was against the rules.

[Even in Cahtolic schools and institutions who use Our Lady's name and are under Her patronage, it is often politically incorrect to mention Our Lord, Jesus Christ, the one to whom she leads.]