Tag Archives: Romantic

Catholic School Stories: First Holy Communion

Communion

I started school in first grade. Kindergarten was not
required in those days. I was still five. It was then that I had
my first big crush. Her name was Theresa. She had pale,
blonde hair and fair skin. She was so beautiful I couldn’t stop
looking at her.

I was considered to be the smartest boy in the class. She
was considered to be the smartest girl. I was, also, the smallest
boy in the class. She was the smallest girl. Consequently
when we had to march in single file to go somewhere else in
the school or to the church we were first in each of the lines
with the boys in the left line and the girls in the right line. The
smallest to the tallest in each line and so we always held hands.
I must admit I loved to hold her hand. She didn’t seem to mind
holding mine although she seemed a little embarrassed and she
smiled coyly. I was glad. I loved to walk beside her through
the breezeways of St. John The Evangelist School.

In the second grade we started to study for our first holy
communion. Our parents had to buy us boys a little, blue, clip
on tie to wear. The boys got a package with a black prayer
book. It had a cover that held a rosary. The girls got a white
prayer book and rosary.

On the day of the first holy communion I was the first in the
line of boys on the left side of the center aisle. Theresa was the
first in the line of girls on the right side. We marched slowly as
we were taught with our hands pressed flat together, fingers
pointed straight up in prayer on our way to the altar. When we
got to the altar the boys knelt down at the altar in a line to the
left. The girls knelt down in a line to the right. Since I and
Theresa were at the front of the line we were the only boy and
girl kneeling down at the altar next to each other.

I couldn’t stop turning to my right to look at her. Her hands
were on the altar pressed together in prayer. She had a circle
of white lace, bobby pinned on top of her beautiful, blonde
hair. She looked so beautiful in her white, communion dress.
She looked straight ahead with a rhapsodic look in her eyes. I
thought I saw just a trace of a smile on her dainty face. Two
priests came to us to give each of us the host. Altar boys held
gold patens under our chins while each priest took a host from
their gold chalices to place the hosts on our tongues. They said,
“The Body of Christ” and we both said, “Amen”.

 

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New Poem: Diana, The Huntress

Diana Downsize 2

Diana, the Huntress, walks in the ancient forest, stalking
And where she walks is silence
Poised and stealthy, silent as the ancient forest, itself
Disturbing not the dried leaves or breaking even a single twig
Ever vigilant, aware
Senses heightened
The silence of Her stealth
And the silence of the ancient forest are as one and the same
In the time of Her stalking
For Diana, the Huntress is hunting
And there is no prey
For Diana is a Goddess
Everywhere She hardly touches
The air barely feels Her breathing
As she moves through ancient ferns
Beneath ancient trees, along paths long forgotten
The mightiest of the forest revere Her and are humble
As She reaches for Her arrow and pulls it from Her quiver
In one graceful movement She fits the arrow to the bow
She draws back on the arrow
Bowstring taut as tawny muscle and sinew
She pauses, intent
The universe stands still and breathless
Even as She checks Her breathing to be sure Her aim will not
go astray
As it cannot for She is a Goddess
She looks straight down the shaft
Gently the bowstring slips from Her fingers
Skillfully as She has done since before the beginning of time
She lets the arrow fly
This arrow will never falter or go astray
Will never lose speed or fall to the earth
But this arrow will never find its mark
It is its destiny to keep circling the world
Forever restlessly searching, searching forever

 

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New Poem: Rare Love

Rare Love Downsized

Artist: Mark Alberto Yoder Nunez

Rare Love by Mark Alberto Yoder Nuñez

She looks into his liquid eyes
And feels the flow of mysteries
His hands so gentle on her body
She feels her soul and body melting
Her thoughts melt and all she knows
Is hot breathing and two hearts beating
There is the warmth and heat where their bodies are touching
All outside is cold and fleeting
From schoolboy’s crush to wild imagination
Romantic novels and burning fascinations
Never giving up despite the years
Holding on despite the fears
Dreams melt into waking life
As the schoolgirl becomes a wife
Many have lived and died in vain
For a love that is so elusive
They couldn’t know the fire in the rain
They thought it all was so exclusive
Holding out as no one else would dare
For a love that is so rare
Experiencing rare love such as this
In a moment is eternal bliss
It takes a lifetime of learning
Boys and girls learning from each other
Developing skill
Learning to trust each other beyond their will
Learning to care
A love so rare

From: The Spider Lady and Other Short Stories and Poetry

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The Dreamers: New Poem

The Spider Lady  Cover

 

We were sad, restless dreamers in a restless age
In innocence and wonder we gazed at the beauty of the world
While all the world around us rushed blindly on
in waste and self destructiveness
We took the time to watch the sun go down
Now all these years have come and gone
And I sit here alone on a magic night
The wind is warm and dry
The dusk is purple
And the innermost longings of my soul
Wash over me slowly in a gentle wave
Warming me and soothing me and reminding me
of the child who dreamed of love
The child who is the real me
Who always was
Yes, we are just friends
But the machinations of the greedy world tore us apart!
Expectations, lust and fame
But all those things were for nothing
Just beautiful sunsets that were missed
As we hurried and fretted our young lives away
“All I want is a place in the sun!” I cried!
And the world mockingly laughed like a sorry, old crone in
reply
We were sad, restless dreamers in a restless age
In innocence and wonder we gazed at the beauty of the world

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Reflections on The Poet’s Vow by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

love-of-books
Photo by George Hodan

 

Reflections on The Poet’s Vow by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Essay by Mark A Y Nuñez

During the course of settling the estate of my deceased parents I received back a volume of poetry that I had given to my sister. She said that she did not read poetry much anymore. Being alone in the empty home of my parents I started reading. I read The Seraphim and then The Poet’s Vow. It was a strange experience. I felt that I was reading the poetry for the first time and yet at a point I noticed that there seemed to be familiarity. I felt at home with the poetry much as I felt at home in the empty house that I had not visited for years. Then it occurred to me that I had read the first poems in the book before giving it as a Christmas gift so long ago to my sister.
I was amazed at how powerful of a poem The Poet’s Vow is. It had a very powerful effect on me. I pondered on the reasons why. I couldn’t help but think that the poet in the story was the opposite of myself. In the poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning the poet is so incensed by the moral weaknesses of his fellow human beings that he makes a vow to live alone and have no contact with any of his fellow humanity thereby purging himself of being soiled by their spiritual shortcomings. I, myself, have always tried to embrace humanity. The balance of trying to be a positive influence in people’s lives while not allowing people to have a corruptive influence on me has been my life’s challenge.
I am certainly writing this essay with the influence of events and my reflections about them that are current in my life and what I am observing in the world now. Not the least of these reflections has to do with interacting with my brothers, sisters and extended family during the course of selling this house and settling the inheritance. What this has to do with The Poet’s Vow is about interactions with people. Then in the time of Mrs. Browning as now at the beginning of this 21st century the moral and poetic principles are the same.
I observed after reading this powerful and sadly beautiful poem that Elizabeth’s poetic work gets much of its power from Christian religious references such as mention of God and angels. These religious influences of course are still with us today from our European heritage even here in America. I thought that in Elizabeth’s time this was the only avenue of spirituality that was open to her to use in her work. She may have gone against the grain in a sense by being a woman poet in a time when men had careers and women supported them in their careers. To this day however in our modern times when I had mentioned Elizabeth Barrett Browning to men they snidely made reference to her poem, How Do I Love Thee, as if to dismiss women poets as inferior. However in spite of going against the grain in that sense she seems to be very traditional for her times and not a counter cultural person. However putting the strong Christianity aside I simply can enjoy her work with the sense of universality to spirituality that is common to all peoples in all times. Her work would not be so powerful without the references to the absolutes of spirituality.
It was fascinating that the theme of the bond between a man and a woman as absolute was more meaningful to me because of being from a woman’s perspective. This negated any thought of the writing being like a sexist man using religion as a tool for keeping a woman in bondage to a man. It spoke more of the universality of the strong emotional ties in romance that become rooted deep in the psychology of a person. The fact that Elizabeth chose to use death as the absolute that would clearly show how powerful a force the love between a man and woman can be is what gives this poem so much emotional impact.
Once again when it comes to romance I seem to be the opposite of the poet in the story. I have declared my love to more than one lady but the circumstances of my life were not conducive to developing a lasting love relationship. The rivalries and jealousies among the ladies only contributed to the problems. The Poet’s Vow however makes me think of the hearts I broke along the way without intending to do so. It is definitely a reminder of the intense pain a human can feel when there appears to be a bond growing between a man and woman.
In the end The Poet’s Vow impressed on me how beautiful and awesome in her power as a poetess that Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s work is to this day. The universality of the themes about people needing people and the powerful bond between a man and woman transcend any differences in times and cultures. Credit has to be given to the poetess for her ability to make us reflect on the experiences of our own lives and bring out our emotions and thoughts concerning romance. Perhaps I am not in a stately mansion like the Hall of Courland, like the poet in the story but in this empty home where the clouds from the sea speed overhead to the inland areas the absolutes of the power of Nature make the experience of reading this poem even more meaningful.