Flammeus Gladius

Carmina et Verba pro Discipulis Meis

Tag: homiletics

Homily

Homily

 

 

I heard the homilist with great surprise.
He actually proceeded with a plan!
He wasn’t merely hanging with the guys.
He wasn’t banging pot on noisy pan.
He wasn’t twisting truths till they were lies.
He wasn’t copying some also-ran.
His prose was full and steady, never chopped.
And when he reached the end — oh, joy! — he stopped.

 

 

–Tom Riley

Churchgoers

Churchgoers

 

 

(for Julie Brumley)

 

 

I saw you (as I often do) at Mass–
one of the many people in the pews.
But to my heart you always come as news.
“Julie!” the headline reads. Then, oh, alas,
the homilist grows eager to harass
my wits with error! No, I do not snooze.
Rather, I fume at how these guys abuse
the gospel with their mumbles, crude and crass.
Afterward, I’m so pissed that I can’t talk
to anybody, let alone to you.
My voice would be a shout — or else a squawk.
Of my drift you would take a dismal view.
To the car, inarticulate, I walk.
This comes as a relief? Of course I knew.

 

 

–Tom Riley

Deep Thinker

Deep Thinker

 

 

He thought deeply — and said he was deep.
He had insights, was not just a creep
with a dog-eared thesaurus.
Did his homilies bore us?
It is hard to attend while asleep.

 

 

–Tom Riley

By the Waters of Babylon

By the Waters of Babylon

 

 

A Babylonian captivity
Would be a whole lot easier to take,
Father, than your moronic homily.
It would not make my aging temples ache
Or cause my life to seem one big mistake.
I could deal with the heathen’s cruelty
And still hold to a faith that didn’t shake.
But all your gab just tortures lads like me.
If you’re our leader, then what fools we be!
The words you drool convince us you’re a flake.
At best, you manage imbecility.
Won’t you be silent, please, for Jesus’ sake?
If he won’t, Lord, then grant my soul this plea:
Send us to alien captivity!

 

 

–Tom Riley

 

 

(First appeared in Trinacria #3, Spring 2010.)

Treasures of the Heart

Treasures of the Heart

 

In pursuit of the homilist’s art,

You decry, Father, right from the start,

     The absurd sin of hoarding.

     Truth you’re sure not distorting.

Your advice I hoard deep in my heart. 

 

 

 –Tom Riley