Call for Refugees
More explosions. More infidels dead.
Let the typical headlines be read!
Is the danger acute?
Ha! The pope’s resolute.
With importing more foes, move ahead!
–Tom Riley
Defensor Fidei
Palm Sunday — and the dying continent
is urged once more toward speedy suicide
by Francis. After all, folks, this is Lent:
you are supposed to suffer! Let your pride
be humbled by invaders who’ve defied
all borders to impose themselves on you!
Your new guests’ urge to rape won’t be denied.
The pope is pleased to sell your women too.
Oh, here it comes! You’re whining right on cue.
Your whole shtick now is one prolonged complaint.
Well, knock it off! A string of rapes won’t do
a thing to make Pope Francis show restraint
in speaking out on matters such as this.
He’ll send you lots of Muslim ass to kiss.
–Tom Riley
Prayerful
Don’t think that satire cannot be a prayer.
Don’t think the Lord disqualifies my sneers
as, verbalized, they rise through mundane air
and find his keen and all-attentive ears.
Grave child, please know: I’ve been at this for years,
mocking both serfs and princes, pimps and popes,
mocking their empty smiles, their bogus tears,
their high-pitched threats, their self-deceptive hopes.
The experts I’ve exposed as utter dopes.
The judges I’ve exposed as shameless liars.
At this late date, I surely know the ropes.
Of slashing so, my spirit never tires.
I’ve seen the truth and told it. Satisfied?
In this endeavor, God is on my side.
–Tom Riley
The Offer of a Hand
If you had
eight hands, I wouldn’t shake
one of them.
–Tom Riley
White Space
Ah, alas, I have wasted white space!
This to me is the gravest disgrace–
But I still have some time
to upload it with rhyme.
I’ll proceed at a furious pace.
–Tom Riley
Smile a Lot
(for Karen Swallow Prior)
My old friend Karen’s sometimes-smiling face
is quite enough to cheer up such as me.
When she refrains from smiling, I agree
that smiling is supremely out of place.
She carries frowns with such impressive grace
that I am elevated just to be
frowned upon. It is glorious to see
her wrath, her doubts, her eyes in any case.
Back when we stood together in the fight,
she gathered up her eloquence to speak
for those who could not speak. And how the light
descended! Her composure was unique.
Today, her words are erudite and right.
If mine have any value, it’s oblique.
–Tom Riley
During the Feast
“For they said, Not during the feast, lest there be an uproar from the people.”
–Mark 14:2.
The Feast of Death was shortly to begin.
He’d never fed on anything like this
before. Encouraged by his mother, Sin,
and thinking satiation happiness,
he seized the chance he didn’t dare to miss
and made a meal of Him Who Made All Things.
Was that enough? In Hell, there is no bliss,
not though the plate contain the King of Kings.
The poison of omnipotence still stings
that proud consumer as he goes about
his gluttony. His father spreads vast wings–
but from his limitations can’t flap out.
Dessert’s an indigestible confection.
The Feast of Death concludes with resurrection.
–Tom Riley
Speedy Compassion
The Holy Father wants us all to know
that he is on the side of those who bled.
Side with the bombers? No, indeed. Instead,
he’ll make a real bold move and feel real low
about these needless deaths. Yea, he will go
to greater lengths, decrying creatures led
by ideologies that peaceniks dread
to target innocents! His anger’s slow,
but his compassion’s really, really speedy.
In Public Statement Land, he aims to please.
But now he’s spoken out, so don’t be greedy
for further Vatican banalities!
Europe: return to rescuing the needy!
Belgium: admit more Muslim refugees!
–Tom Riley
Flammeus Gladius 