Goretti PublicationsIn an effort to publish more frequently, Goretti Publications is offering poetry on a more regular basis here. Published primarily in HTML (though we may eventually publish a pdf and print version, when there's enough material), we hope this will provide a source of good poetry in a world which does not have enough.
Published intermittently.
J.R.R. Tolkien once said “I am a Christian, and indeed a Roman Catholic, so that I do not expect ‘history’ to be anything but a ‘long defeat’—though it contains (and in a legend may contain may clearly and movingly) some samples of glimpses of final victory.” This poem meditates a bit on the “long defeat”: why we must suffer it, and our only option for getting through it. The Long Defeat
Reflecting on how, in spring, a rainstorm is a pleasant and joyful thing, but that a rainstorm in winter is a miserable, cold, even painful event. It contemplates the violence in even the most serene scenes in nature, and how beauty lies even in these painful things. Winter's Rain
This dozzet, notable for its breathless enjambment making the first eight lines essentially one, meditates on the "long night" of Advent, and the benefits of "embracing the purple": that is, doing penance, as one of the few really good things we can do in this world as we await the next. Let All Men Wear the Purple
We are thrilled to publish our first poem by author Justin G. Smith, a sonnet meditating on the mystery of the Annuncation. The Annunciation
Begun (though not finished) on the feast of St. Francis, this poem is a contemplation on the great saint's view of life and the world. It describes his extreme and beautiful poverty, and eventually draws in his constant comparison of his own body to his "brother the ass", and noting that by treating his brother the ass like an ass and his own soul like an angel, he became far greater than both. The Angel and the Ass
Another sonnet written in the strict Petrarchan form, we contemplate how difficult is to get virtue; but also how difficult it might be to keep it. And, once it is lost, how difficult it is to regain. Virtue Won, Then Lost
Our first in a while, this poem with its interesting rhyme and metrical scheme looks at the concept of ancestral land, and how deeply connected we can be to it. It does so through the land of my own ancesters, still in my family, where my grandfather was buried. The Land of Our Bones
A sonnet, the first in a long time, along the strict Petrarchan rhyme scheme (ABBAABBACDCDCD). This familiar sonnet form with somewhat unusual rhyme scheme is refreshing, and resists attempts to close the poem on a cheap, short point. This poem borrows imagery concerning the spread of *ideas* like that of flames, that we can pass our ideas to others and yet lose nothing of them ourselves. The Mother Flame
We talk about two of the great migrations in nature, and how impressive and truly marvelous it is that, by such small things as single steps, we can do such great things. To Walk
If you knew my brother, you may want to skip this one. It very frankly and honestly deals with my worries, my feelings, and my thoughts about my brother and his death, and is extremely explicit. He died many months ago, and only now have I been able to put something of this into verse. I can never put it well; but perhaps this puts it adequately. On His Brother
Many of us face demons, literal and figurative, which torment us. This poem reminds us of the power of those demons, but also of their lack of power, due to the One Who can help us. Arise! and face the demons
A contemplation for Ash Wednesday. While we all know the symbolism of the ashes and the destruction of flesh, this poem ties it into the symbolism of the refiner's fire, and how we must purify our souls by burning out that which is corrupt. Become the Ash
A brief rumination on the worlds that can shelter beneath a grand old tree, and the inadequacy of the sapling to match it. Sheltering Limbs
Our souls cannot be filled with material things; but they can be filled by immaterial ones. Comparing them to glass, which cannot be filled with stuff but can be filled by light, this poem explores that theme. Adamantine Vessels
An exploration of the symbolism of the saints' cords and what they might mean. I Tie the Cord
Comparing and contrasting the ever-full flow of the river to the lake to the sea, with the emptiness which fills; that is, the fact that we can really only fill ourselves by emptying ourselves out first. The Emptiness That Fills
Another poem of paradoxes, this one offers some reflections on the most massive and difficult paradox: the Creator become a creature. Christmas, 1203
A poem of paradoxes, comparing thirst and hunger to filling, and the need to empty ourselves before we can be filled. The Thirst Which Drowns
In anapestic heptameter for the first time in a long time, this poem explores the wonderful properties of the world's most common substance, and remarks on how powerful and yet how perfectly taken for granted it truly is. Elixir of Life
An alliterative look at Advent and the physical signs of the season. Advent 1203
A long alliterative poem, published in parts, and heavily symbolic and allegorical. It explores two great cities and their relationship to one another, and how one can (or cannot) pass between them. The Two Cities
Yet another study of the dandelion from a poetical perspective. For our previous studies, see The Dandelion and The Dandelion, Revisited. It is spring, after all; and the Easter imagery naturally arises from the ruminations, as well. The Dandelion, Revisited Again
The title says it, really; a few brief thoughts on Good Friday, linking it to the day of the Fall. Worth lining up alongside The Worst of Days. Good Friday, 1203
A new take on the familiar (familiar, at least, to classical philosophy students) analogy of the wild horse, with an added notion of Brother Ass and how he should be treated. The Savage Beast
A very short but evocative look at the color red and its role in the springtime. The Sign of Life
An unusual meter for me, this poem explores the idea that Providence has designed any given moment specifically for each one of us. The Bird Sings for Me
A long poem which contemplates both the ancient pagan and modern pagan notions of the universe, and how unsatisfying they must be; and finally, propose the Christian vision as the answer. Uncaring Sky
Noting that many things are very easy, but that there is no praise in them; and that the true glory of being a free creature is the ability to do what is good even though it is hard. Against the Flow
A short poem, really more of a versification, with a brief message about the greatest of our temptations. More Beauty Sought
We so often hear of a "blanket of snow." This poem explores the concept a bit, particularly its contradictions. The Snow
We see how certain things in nature, though tiny and visibly insignificant, have huge effects well beyond their immediate impact, and contemplate what that means for our own deeds. The Stone and the Raindrop
An attempt to juxtapose some ideas which are generally considered antithetical---joy and death---and unite them in a single rumination. Rejoice, For Thou Shalt Die
A dozzet on what is solid and what is changeable, and the relative values of each. A Fickle Feeling
An interesting format (two lines of two anapests followed by one of four), this poem for Christmas of 1202 contemplates the salvific light brought by the Savior, piercing through every cloud and mist. The Tower Above the Cloud
Another Advent-themed poem, exploring the retreat of nature beneath the soil in the wintertime, the encroaching cold, and the salvation from death offered by the sun. The Creeping Cold of Night
A contemplation of the love of the mother for her child; the love of the child for the mother; and the incredible depth of the connection when the two are combined. The Mother and the Child
An offering in the idiosyncratic anapestic heptameter, contemplating the earth-shattering nature of the coming of Christ. Advent 1202
Yet another attempt to contemplate the incredible scope of the universe in time and space, and how small we are in comparison to it. The Vast Forever
A double dozzet, describing the hugeness of time and space, and how tiny we all are in comparison. We are Goldfish
A very short comparison of enthusiasm and real love. Enthusiasm
A poem exploring how huge the universe is, and how hopeless the task of comprehending it for finite creatures. The Vast Expanse
Starting out with some strong imagery, this piece ponders the modern pursuit of youth and how fruitless and nonsensical it is. Seek Not for Youth
Thoughts on the fleeting nature of even our strongest enthusiasms. Castles Made of Sand
A series of paradoxes that apply to life in general, and note the ultimate meaninglessness of death when life itself is properly understood. A few tougher rhymes in this one. The Paradox of Life
A rumination on autumn, life, and death. Autumn
A brief rumination on the symbolic importance of fasting, here in an Ember week. Pouring
Another poem ruminating on the current ecclesiastical crisis. This one again starts very dark, and the use of enjambment in the first dozzet serves to make the reader feel harried and breathless; but it does turn up in the second and third dozzet. A Plague Infects the Roses
A nightmare. That is, literally a nightmare, the feelings that many of us are having during these dark times. Of course, God is there to resolve them; but for this poem, we focus on our own inability to do so. A Nightmare Neverending
A rumination on the fact that, though many things are predictable, very few are certain; the birds and the flowers prepare for winter, but they're really just guessing, and sometimes they're early or late. We really know very little about the world around us. Uncertainty
An alliterative poem, which at length explores the rise and fall of what we knew as Christendom, and concludes with hope for its resurrection. The Death of Christendom
A contemplation on the way our coasts are formed over countless years, and the way that such a peaceful environment is formed by such huge conflict. The Vast Ripostes
Another alliterative piece, this one laments the incredible, indeed indescribable, agony thatis hunger; yet then goes on to ponder why and how one might embrace it. Obvious allusions to St. Francis's Lady Poverty. The Lay of Lady Poverty
A paean to the life-giving refreshment of the rain, which brings water to quench the thirst and cool the heat. Comes Now the Rain
Along the lines of Defeat Thyself, a slightly different rumination on the importance of conquering onself before attempting to conquer one's enemies. Defeat Oneself
A dozzet concerning the influence of a father on a man's life, even if the man himself doesn't realize it. To a Father
A new take on an old metaphor. The phoenix does, as usual, represent the cycle of birth and death, here it is turned to a singular purpose. The Phoenix
Our first alliterative poem, this details the emotions and thoughts of the poet on the death of his father, and beseeches the prayers of the reader for him. A Poet on his Father
We consider the goldfish, famous for his short attention span and tiny perspective, and imagine him as having man's assurance of the completeness of his knowledge. We note that this assurance is foolish, and consider how foolish man's must be, as well, given the shortness of our time on earth and how little of the universe we can know. The Goldfish
A loving examination of the beautiful symbolism of incense and the thurible at Mass, trying to encompass the sight, sound, and smell of it. Come, See the Smoke
Presenting the figure of a lady in the night, and then the moon in the sky, we compare and eventually identify these two, and note how the cool, silvery light of the moon is ultimately just the warm, golden light of the sun reflected onto earth. The comparison to the Blessed Virgin Mary is immediately evident; and we note that moonlight can be just as good as sunlight for those who are blind, if that's what they're able to see. The Silver Light
Amidst the rejoicing of Pentecost, this poem was written. It's not subtle, but it does aptly express the joy of the Christian at the coming of the Holy Spirit. Combining the two primary symbols of the Holy Spirit (the dove and the flame), we contemplate how the Holy Ghost comes in after the Ascension. It echoes some of the symbolism from our earlier poem for Easter, Alleluia! The Sun has Arisen, but I think that's fair theologically and historically, given that the works of the Three Persons are the works of each and every, and that Christ Himself was incarnate of the Holy Spirit. The Dove of Fire
In continued keeping with our recent nature theme, we turn now to the female cardinal. Less showy (some would say less gaudy) than her mate, the female cardinal has a unique beauty all her own. We contemplate that beauty and how it speaks to us. The Lady Cardinal
In keeping with our nature theme for the last two weeks, we present another poem concerning the lovely sights of spring. The cardinal remains in the area for the winter, of course, but one caught my eye on a walk recently, and in the lovely spring day this poem came out of it. The Cardinal
We have already addressed this beautiful little flower once before; here, in honor of their blooming once again in this beautiful spring, we honor them again. The Dandelion, Revisited
Inspired by my daily walks this spring, this poem poured forth. Less "deep" than most of the recent work I've posted, this is pure revelry in the beauties of spring, with only brief reflection on how brief those beauties are, and how they will return again. Also written entirely in couplets, which is an unusual form for me. All Hail the Spring!
St. Francis famously referred to his body as his "brother the ass," referring to its brutishness and the difficulty of controlling it. St. Thomas Aquinas also compared defeating temptation to supporting one side in a fight: we feed the fighter we hope will win, but we deprive the fighter we hope will lose. So when we fight aspects of our selves, we starve those aspects, and feed the aspects that we wish to rise and win. This poem echoes both these metaphors, along with a modernized version of one of Plato's famous analogies about the passions as opposed to the reason. My Brother
Some reflections on the fact that we're constantly fighting everything around us, never happy with anything that happens or anything that we have, when the real enemy is within us, ourselves; and that if we get our selves under control, we've gone a long way to controlling what is wrong with us. Defeat Thyself
Last week we had a somber poem for Holy Week; this week we have a very joyful and upbeat poem for Easter week. Reflecting on a number of the great joys of the Resurrection, this poem takes the unusual tack of rhyming all four lines of each verse on the same sound. Although the analogy of the Son to the sun is obvious, the fact that in American English the words "son" and "sun" are pronounced identically (at least, in all dialects with which I am familiar) does benefit the symbolism here. Alleluia! The Sun has Arisen!
A somber poem for Holy Week. A new style that I have not tried before, but which I think accomplishes the task. The Worst of Days
Back to anapestic heptameter this week, we explore the nature of changing oneself, and how any real change in oneself will require suffering, by analogizing to the building of a traditional Native American canoe. By Stone and Fire
A three-dozzet series on death, and the ultimate hopelessness of life in the absence of a supernatural destination. Decidedly downbeat for most of its length, it ends on an upnote. Inspired by some comments on the death of my father, though certainly not a historical account of such. Fear not Death
Much less ominous (though no less portentous) than its title implies, this poem ponders the nature of love, intentionally invoking Shakespeare's famous love sonnet while turning it in a completely different direction. Spilled Blood
Cups and oceans! Inspired by an old story of St. Augustine contemplating the Trinity, this poem explores the notion of knowledge by comparing what can be held in the sea with what can be held in a cup. A dozzet. Mysteries
A dozzet meditating on St. Francis's great love, "Lady Poverty." Most of us, of course, don't embrace Lady Poverty with the enthusiasm of St. Francis; but in Lent, we do certainly (or should certainly, at least) improve our acquaintance with her. This poem ruminates on the importance of Lady Poverty and fasting, and how it can be a profit for us in life. Lady Poverty
A new type of poem (for me), written in the terza rima which Italian poetry, especially Dante, has justly made so famous. We see little of it in English-language literature. Here, we contemplate the fact that we can see the infinite sky, but only through the muddying medium of the atmosphere and the clouds, and whether we can be happy with this vision. Gazing Skyward
A dozzet, reflecting on the moon and the nature of its light, with meaning for the role of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the saints, in reference to the Light of the world. Light of the Moon
Yet again in anapestic heptameter, this poem was inspired by one of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, which spoke of lait virginal, along with the famous story of St. Bernard of Clairvaux. Taking some obvious cues from Revelations, Chapter 10 (decimal twelve), it reflects on how if we seek to imitate Christ, we should imitate also His feelings about His mother. Virginal Milk
More anapestic heptameter, this poem explores the "happy fault" of St. Thomas Aquinas, and the reality of original sin, which seems so unjust to so many, when really it's a great gift (as well as not being unjust in any way). I'm particularly happy with some of the alliteration (e.g., "long-ago garden agleam"), but think the rhythm, topic, and imagery fit together well. Road to Eden
Inspired by a line from "For the Fallen" by Robert Lawrence Binyon ("They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old: / Age shall not wither them, nor the years condemn"), I've written this dozzet about a very different topic. While we ourselves weaken and eventually die, tradition---especially Sacred Tradition---improves and strengthens over time. Not as a Man Grows Old
Back to anapestic heptameter! This is my second poem in anapestic heptameter (after The Woman in the Meadow), and it's a delightful meter for English poetry. Somehow, it manages to remain a light-hearted, natural rhythm without excluding the gravity of more traditional iambic meters. This poem has a great deal of internal rhyme (universally on the third line of a verse, optionally one other lines), and explores themes of the season of winter and the death that accompanies it in a decidedly hopeful way. Winter's Joy
A longer poem, made up of three dozzets, on the mystery of childbirth and child-raising and the immense power of woman that is tied up therewith. Though only the last dozzet ends in a couplet, this also contains pretty clear echoes of St. Francis's Canticle of the Sun. Hail, woman!
A poem for the season of Christmas. Emphasizes the elements of full-swollen pregnancy and fullness of time, and the mind-bending notion of a human being giving birth to her own Creator (and the Creator of everything else). Christmas 1201
A poem for the season of Advent. Interesting for its use of enjambment in almost the entirety of the first eight lines, calling to mind the "smothering" that is referenced early on. Read it out loud to see what it means; one must do so almost in a single breath. Advent 1201
A heavily symbolic examination of a hero's voyage from his natural, fallen state to the possession of virtue and, eventually, truth. Written as a series of dozzets, I'm very excited about it. It is lengthy, basically a mini-epic; as a result, it was published in parts. The first part was published ; the last on , or nearly three months later. The Hero's Tale
Attempting again to use the red-green-white symbolism to good effect, this poem also mixes in some Marian imagery. Pursue the Sun
Obviously inspired by William Ross Wallace's "The Hand that Rocks the Cradle Rules the World," this poem explores the huge influence a mother has on her child, and the deep relationship between them. On Motherhood
A bit more prosaic (insofar as that makes sense in a poetical context) than most of our posts have been of late, this dozzet-plus-couplet explores the great treasury of knowledge that Christians (and specifically Catholics) have built up over the centuries, and how, as we gradually abandon our mother tongue, we're losing access to our own glorious heritage, a heritage which belongs to the Church and to all mankind. Wisdom's Mother Tongue
Though still sort of a dozzet, this poem is a bit different structurally than the others. Each quatrain is grouped as a separate verse, and the first and third lines of each are divided into two rhyming half-lines, with the second and fourth rhyming each other at the end and their accompanying half-lines halfway through. It's simpler to read than to describe; think of it as an alexandrine version of The Raven's structure. Using traditional color imagery, this poem briefly contemplates the virtues. Enjoy. On Virtue
On 19 August 1201, the United States was host to a solar eclipse that was visible nowhere but in its territory, lending it the name "the Great American Eclipse". This was a full solar eclipse; and though many of us only were able to see a partial eclipse, the experience of even so much (I last saw one some two dozen years ago or so) was moving, and inspired this piece. On the Great American Eclipse
Another dozzet, this one focusing on the heavens, which have traditionally been viewed as a symbol of Divine Providence (in contradiction of the silliness that is astrology). I See the Spinning Stars
A dozzet which is (clearly, I hope) about baptism, and the freedom and peace that it offers us, even though it does not necessarily offer us an easy journey there. There's a great deal of alliteration as well as the standard dozzet meter and rhyme here; I hope that it achieves its aim. To Delve into the Water
A dozzet again in a generally happy vein, discussing the vicissitudes of time, but also the amazing gift of it. It again shows some experimentation with some deliberate alliteration along with rhyme. Life to Live
This dozzet is a love poem, again focusing on the very important distinction between love and feeling. Everyone is joyful on their wedding day ("[w]hen two are join'd to one"), but eventually that enthusiasm will wear off, and something much deeper than mere emotional or physical attraction will be required. Only love can sustain the two then. Rather than wrapping up the dozzet in twelve lines, an envoi couplet sews the threads together. Two Hearts
Back to sonnets, at least for now. This one quite simply contemplates suffering and its role in love and happiness in our lives. Born to Sorrow
A dozzet doing the nearly stereotypical comparison between time and a river, with the usual statements about never stepping in the same river twice, and so forth. However, it ends with a couplet that concludes something different from the usual time-river ruminations. I think that this is interesting different from most such poems. The Moment Now
A series of four dozzets which explore the utter meaninglessness of life and death in the absence of some spiritual reality, and the greatness of both when a deeper significance is understood. Much less bleak that Our Only Certainty, which ends without any hint of redeeming joy, this poem starts out very bleak but ends with real hope and joy. Rest in Peace
Another of the new poetical form (which I'm ridiculously referring to internally as the "dozzet"), along the lines of The Dandelion, this poem focuses relentlessly on the more depressing aspects of our world; specifically, on the fact that everything in it will eventually end, and that this ending is really the only certainty we have about it. Our Only Certainty
I have often thought the dandelion to be one of the prettiest of all flowers; yet it is commonly derided as merely a useless weed. That's a real shame. This poem is an ode to the dandelion. It's also a bit of an experiment with a new poetical form, which when crafting this piece I found truly powerful. It is twelve lines of twelve iambic feet each; but each line is not limited to the alexandrine, but can be divided however the syllables work best. I hope the reader enjoys reading the form as much as I enjoyed writing it. The Dandelion
This poem, quite like The Raven in its meter and rhyme scheme, provides some more thoughts on life and death, and how we ought to face both; and further, it reminds us that some have already done so, and that we should look to them for example. Death Has Been Cheated Once
A shorter poem (two dozen lines) with a shorter message, taking some symbolism from Dante in the last stanza. Iambic tetrameter in lines 1-2 and 4-5, but iambic hexadecameter in lines 3 and 6, of each sestet. Interesting in its symbolism of the flame and the stars, and also interesting in providing an iambic form of Poe's trochaic meter in The Raven. The Fire Which Does Not Consume
A longish narrative-type poem, this piece explores the subject of death and how it has perplexed mankind throughout the ages. It's the first significant piece I've written in blank verse, and it's also my most overtly Christian poem so far published. It points out that Christianity doesn't make suffering hurt less; it just gives meaning to the suffering that we all must endure. The Question
Sporting an unusual rhyme scheme (tercets with rhyming first two lines, followed by a third line which matches the first two lines of the following tercet), this poem not only uses the excellent word "thole," but also explores interesting themes relating to Providence. The Tholing Child
This poem continues our theme of exploring various elements of nature and what they can teach us about life and what lies beyond. Here, we consider the ant, and the single-minded purpose of his narrow world, and how that compares to we ourselves. Structurally, it's interesting, as well; its four-line stanzas are rhymed in lines 1, 2, and 4, with line 3 rhyming with lines 1, 2, and 4 of the following stanza. The Ant
This poem, at 22 (twenty-six) lines, is a rumination on age, development, wisdom, and tradition. A bit of an oddball, as it consists of four-line stanzas rhymed at the second and fourth lines, but ends with a rhymed couplet. I think it's interesting. The Oak
Not a sonnet! This poem, still relatively short at 30 (thirty-six) lines, uses only two rhymes. A meditation on the relationship between suffering and love. Just as the tulip blooms in the spring, but loses its bloom in summer and must endure tremendous hardship in the fall and winter in order to bloom again, so love is at first nothing but color and joy, but eventually becomes difficult and hard. But without these hardships, love just isn't love. The Tulip Grows
Another sonnet; but in a bit of change of pace, a love poem. We contemplate a few of the many analogies that poets have used for the lover pursuing his beloved---the thirsty seeking water, the bee seeking flowers, the plant seeking light---and observe that our love for our beloved is of a very different, and much more mutual, kind. It's also pretty unique in that it uses only three rhymes in 12 (decimal fourteen) lines, hopefully helping to give the lie to the notion that rhyming poetry somehow "doesn't work" in English. As Rain and Field
A longer poem (though still short, only 24 (that's twenty-eight) lines), this piece is written in anapestic heptameter, while nearly all my metered work is simple iambic pentameter. A meditation on the limits of earthly justice and deep in symbolism, I hope that the reader will find it enlightening, or at least enjoyable. The Woman in the Meadow
This little sonnet is essentially a meditation on Plato's famous allegory of the cave. Another Petrarchan sonnet (though modified in the sestet), like The Seed of Sorrow, The Cave is particularly interesting for its use of enjambment (informally called "run-on lines"), where the meaning carries over multiple lines, especially in lines 3--5. The Cave
The sonnet is an unfortunately much-neglected form these days, and yet one of my favorites. Some of the best poetry in the history of the modern English language has been composed in this simple, unqua-two (fourteen) line format. The Seed of Sorrow is Petrarchan in rhyme scheme, and composed in the traditional iambic pentameter. Enjoy. The Seed of Sorrow
Fans of (or at least readers of) Stephen Crane may remember the imagery of the red disc of the sun in The Red Badge of Courage. I've always found this to be a powerful image, but sorely misused in that work. This poem describes a personal journey (not my personal journey, merely that of some person) where the red disc may still mean a wound, but not a wound of some war between feuding factions; and which has meaning far beyond such a small conflict. The Red Disc
William Cullen Bryant's classic poem Thanatopsis ("view of death") is still read in most American schools as an example of early nineteenth-century American poetry, and it is a fine example of that. Prior to Whitman, Bryant was likely the most famous of American poets. However, Thanatopsis provides what Christians would likely believe to be a very simplistic and depressing view of death. This poem tries to follow Bryant's lead while still giving a more enlightening view of its topic. Thanatopsis: An Answer to William Cullen Bryant