Personal Blog and Poetry of David D. Varella
Notice to all my followers: I am now posting my poetry and thoughts on another blogging platform, Substack.
For those who want to visit it, I have named it Campfire Enchiladas for two reasons: first, I thoroughly enjoy camping and the outdoors; and second, I thought that name was more catchy at the time.
I am posting the link below, for anyone who wants to visit the site:
https://campfireenchiladas.substack.com/
I hope you all enjoy what you find over there.
Laudetur Iesus Christus!
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| Gandalf Corrects Frodo (Image Source: New Line Cinema) |
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| Pentecost, by Jean Restout (1692-1768); Musée du Louvre, Paris, France |
My original translation, written in 2023, is set in iambic pentameter.
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| Dance of Grace by Mark Keathley (Image Source) |
"O God, who in the abasement of your Son have raised up a fallen world, fill your faithful with holy joy, for on those you have rescued from slavery to sin you bestow eternal gladness" (Roman Missal, Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time).
"Thus says the Lord: Rejoice heartily, O daughter Zion, shout for joy, O daughter Jerusalem!" (Zechariah 9:9; from the First Reading, 14th Sunday, Year A).
"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor" (Cf. Luke 4:18; from the Alleluia Verse, 14th Sunday, Year B).
"Thus says the Lord: Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad because of her, all you who love her; exult, exult with her, all you who were mourning over her! ... When you see this, your heart shall rejoice and your bodies flourish like the grass; the Lord's power shall be known to his servants." (Isaiah 66:10,14; from the First Reading, 14th Sunday, Year C).
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| Mary, Help of Christians |
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| Raphael, “St. Michael Vanquishing Satan,” 1518 St. Michael is the Patron Saint of Law Enforcement. |
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| Christ the King, Victim of Love |
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| Image Source: U.S. Grace Force |
There is a lot going on in our world. Things are moving at a dizzying pace, and that fact is too obvious to ignore. But do not for a minute think that these things are happening only in the earthly or physical sphere. There is a whole other sphere that is invisible to our corporeal eye. The spirits of wickedness have been in high places for a long time, and they would have us despair and believe that there is no hope anywhere, no safe haven from their reach. They would have us frantic and desperate, willing to do anything to turn around the situation in this country. Some have already fallen prey to that temptation.
The problem is that the only situation to despair of is the salvation of the demons: "they are doomed to be eternally destroyed" (Psalm 92:7b). But any other situation, whether spiritual or physical, religious or political, "nothing shall be impossible for God" (Luke 1:37). We were made in and for this time, and we must not make war with physical means, but with spiritual means. We saw in the last election cycle how even political and legal means were unsuccessful, and there is still a war raging against our Cyrus by the ruling Julian the Apostate.
Before I give us some prayers to pray, of which some are Scriptural, I must address the elephant in the room. Be at peace in Christ. If we are called to suffer and die for Him, then we must do so with peace and equanimity, and with magnanimity of heart (i.e. peacefully and with joy). But we must also have faith in the deliverance that God alone can provide against these wicked demons and their unhappy servants in the flesh. Saint Francis de Sales wisely said, Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, not even if your whole world seems upset. If you find that you have wandered away from the shelter of God, lead your heart back to Him quietly and simply." In this same vein, Saint Vincent de Paul said, "It is a ruse of the devil, by which he deceives good people, to induce them to do more than they are able, so that they end up not being able to do anything. The spirit of God urges one gently to do the good that can be done reasonably, so that it may be done perseveringly and for a long time." So let us not try to do more than we are able. Let us rather beg and allow God to do the fighting for us (cf. 2 Chronicles 20).
A final word on our prayerful supplication...begin always with the praise of God and what He has done in the past, as the great leaders of the Scriptures once did. You will see in the first two prayers how Mordecai and Esther began their prayers in this way before they began to make supplication. This is the best way to pray, because we should never forget the goodness of God in times of adversity; and secondly, this way to begin our prayer reminds us of God's powerful deeds in the past and it steels our hearts to a full trust in God's power and victorious right arm.
Esther 13:9-17, adapted for our own use.
O Lord, King who rulest over all things, for the universe is in thy power and there is no one who can oppose thee if it is thy will to save us. For thou hast made heaven and earth and every wonderful thing under heaven, and thou art Lord of all, and there is no one who can resist thee, who art the Lord. Thou knowest all things; thou knowest, O Lord, that it was not in insolence or pride or for any love of glory that I did this, and refused to bow down to this proud ideology. For I would have been willing to kiss the soles of its feet, to save us! But I did this, that I might not set the glory of man above the glory of God, and I will not bow down to any one but to thee, who art my Lord; and I will not do these things in pride. And now, O Lord God and King, God of Abraham, spare thy people; for the eyes of our foes are upon us to annihilate us, and they desire to destroy the inheritance that has been thine from the beginning. Do not neglect thy people, whom thou didst redeem for thyself by thy Blood on the Cross. Hear my prayer, and have mercy upon thy inheritance; turn our mourning into feasting, that we may live and sing praise to thy name, O Lord; do not destroy the mouth of those who praise thee.
Esther 14:3-19, adapted for our own use.
O my Lord, thou only art our King; help me, who am alone and have no helper but thee, for my danger is in my hand. Ever since I was born I have heard in the tribe of my family that thou, O Lord, didst take Israel out of all the nations, and our fathers from among all their ancestors, for an everlasting inheritance, and that thou didst do for them all that thou didst promise. And now we have sinned before thee, and thou hast given us into the hands of our enemies, because we glorified their gods. Thou art righteous, O Lord! And now they are not satisfied that we are in bitter slavery, but they have covenanted with their idols to abolish what thy mouth has ordained and to destroy thy inheritance, to stop the mouths of those who praise thee and to quench thy altar and the glory of thy house, to open the mouths of the nations for the praise of vain idols, and to magnify for ever a mortal king. O Lord, do not surrender thy scepter to what has no being; and do not let them mock at our downfall; but turn their plan against themselves, and make an example of the ideologues who began this against us. Remember, O Lord; make thyself known in this time of our affliction, and give me courage, O King of the gods and Master of all dominion! Put eloquent speech in my mouth before the lion, and turn his heart to hate the man who is fighting against us, so that there may be an end of him and those who agree with him. But save us by thy hand, and help me, who am alone and have no helper but thee, O Lord. Thou hast knowledge of all things; and thou knowest that I hate the splendor of the wicked and abhor the pride of the sinful. Thou knowest my necessity — that I abhor the sign of my proud position, which is upon my head on the days when I appear in public. I abhor it terribly, and I do not wear it on the days when I am at leisure. And thy servant has not eaten at the table of the ideologues, and I have not honored the Apostate's feast or drunk the wine of the libations. Thy servant has had no joy since the day that I was born until now, except in thee, O Lord God of Abraham. O God, whose might is over all, hear the voice of the despairing, and save us from the hands of evildoers. And save me from my fear!
2 Chronicles 20:6-12, adapted for our own use.
O Lord, God of our fathers, art thou not God in heaven? Dost thou not rule over all the kingdoms of the nations? In thy hand are power and might, so that none is able to withstand thee. Didst thou not, O our God, drive out the inhabitants of this land before thy people Israel, and give it for ever to the descendants of Abraham thy friend? And they have dwelt in it, and have built thee in it a sanctuary for thy name, saying, ‘If evil comes upon us, the sword, judgment, or pestilence, or famine, we will stand before this house, and before thee, for thy name is in this house, and cry to thee in our affliction, and thou wilt hear and save.’ And now behold, the men of the wicked ideologies, whom thou wouldest not let them invade when they came from the lands of England, France, and Spain, and whom they avoided and did not destroy — behold, they reward us by coming to drive us out of thy possession, which thou hast given us to inherit. O our God, wilt thou not execute judgment upon them? For we are powerless against this great multitude that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon thee.
Written in 1800 for the United States of America; abridged.
We pray Thee, almighty and eternal God, who through Jesus Christ has revealed Thy glory to all nations, to preserve the works of Thy mercy; that Thy Church, being spread throughout the whole world, may continue, with unchanging faith, in the confession of Thy name. We pray Thee, O God of might, wisdom, and justice, through whom authority is rightly administered, laws are enacted, and judgment decreed, assist, with Thy Holy Spirit of counsel and fortitude, the President of these United States, that his administration may be conducted in righteousness, and be eminently useful to Thy people, over whom he presides, by encouraging due respect for virtue and religion; by a faithful execution of the laws in justice and mercy; and by restraining vice and immorality. Let the light of Thy divine wisdom direct the deliberations of the Congress, and shine forth in all the proceedings and laws framed for our rule and government; so that they may tend to the preservation of peace, the promotion of national happiness, the increase of industry, sobriety, and useful knowledge, and may perpetuate to us the blessings of equal liberty.
We pray for his Excellency the Governor of this State, for the members of the Assembly, for all Judges, Magistrates, and other officers who are appointed to guard our political welfare; that they may be enabled, by Thy powerful protection, to discharge the duties of their respective stations with honesty and ability.
We recommend likewise to Thy unbounded mercy all our brethren and fellow-citizens, throughout the United States, that they may be blessed in the knowledge, and sanctified in the observance of Thy most holy law; that they may be preserved in union and in that peace which the world cannot give; and, after enjoying the blessings of this life, be admitted to those which are eternal. Amen.
Rev. Sunderland was the chaplain of the United States Senate. He offered this prayer on 4 July 1861, 37th Congress, first session.
Almighty and everlasting God, be not angry with us for our sins, which we only confess and deplore; but pardon our offenses and extend to us Thy favor. We thank Thee for Thy goodness on this anniversary of the nation a day tenfold more precious by reason of our present troubles, and sacred to the heart for the ever memorable Declaration of our fathers, in which Thou didst begin more openly to give us a name among the nations of the earth. We thank Thee for all Thy manifold and abundant mercies hitherto to make our nation exceedingly great and glorious; but now disasters have befallen us and darkness broods in the land. And now we ask Thy mercy as the Senate is convening at a most momentous crisis of our history. Give to Thy servants all needed help. Add to their deliberations wisdom and unanimity, and profit and speed to their conclusion. Bless Thy servant, the President of the United States, our veteran Commander-in- Chief, and all that have functions in the civil and military power. May the angel of Thy presence walk in the Cabinet and in the Congress and in the camp, to go before, to purify, and to direct the now greatly and universally-awakened love of country. And we beseech Thee to guide us, to overrule and order all things, and so to cause that nothing shall fail, that the disorders of the land may be speedily healed, that peace and concord may prevail, that truth and righteousness may be established, and that Thy Church and Kingdom may flourish in a larger peace and prosperity, for Thy Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.
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| The Christian Martyrs' Last Prayer, by Jean-Léon Gérôme (1824-1904), oil on canvas |
I first wrote this hymn in 2022. Since then, a whistleblower released a document that the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) has been targeting Catholics who have a traditional (read: correct) sense of morals and beliefs. That document makes this hymn even more poignant.
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| The Crowning of the Virgin, by Louis-Edouard Paul Fournier (1857–1917) |
Since 2020, the Catholic Literary Arts has had an annual Sacred Poetry Writing Contest. I only just discovered it early this year when one of my friends from our parish recommended that I give it a try. Being a poetry enthusiast, I immediately looked it up. It turns out, there is a form of poetry that is called ekphrastic poetry, which is poetry that is formed about a specific picture or image. According to Getty.edu, "Ekphrastic poetry has come to be defined as poems written about works of art; however, in ancient Greece, the term ekphrasis was applied to the skill of describing a thing with vivid detail." This, I admit, was not an easy thing to do, as it is the first time I had ever attempted such a thing. I am attempting something very similar by writing a hymn to Our Lady of Perpetual Help for a friend, so at least now I have "gotten my feet wet," as the saying goes.
The three winners of the Contest did an excellent job, and seeing their poems has given me an idea of how to write such a poem. I normally stick with a certain meter and rhyme, but their winning entries have taught me that neither is so important when it comes to drawing out truths revealed in the art. These truths can be revealed through the use of colors, light, facial expressions, body postures, positions of articles, and many other things besides. What is great is that, although the artists may have used artistic techniques by which they sought to express realities or truths, sometimes there are other things the artists do not intend that are no less important. The First-Place poem really taught me that. Where I used to have a disdain for free verse, I do so no longer; that said, however, I thoroughly enjoyed the meter and rhyme scheme of the Third-Place poem.
From the eight different images chosen for the Contest, the one titled The Crowning of the Virgin, really struck something within me. I tried to write it out in the poem, but words fell short. Essentially, I was struck by how the crownless Ecce Homo was crowning His Virgin-Mother, as if we could see the dogma of the Immaculate Conception within the image: that through the foreseen merits of the Passion of Jesus Christ, Mary was herself conceived without original sin. And so, without further ado, I present my submission.
St. Robert Southwell is the foremost poet amongst the English Martyrs, even though many others of them also wrote poetry. This is why I have taken him as one of my patrons for poetry, the other reason being that English is my native language; although my particular dialect is American-English, I see no reason why that should be an impediment to my deciding on his patronage. Below is the introductory paragraph from his feastday, February 21st, in Lives of the Saints for Every Day of the Year (1965; The Catholic Press, Inc.).
Saints and poets have a great quality in common. Both are blessed with a deep appreciation of beauty: the poet sees the order and magnificence in creation and communicates this to others through the written word; the saint recognizes this beauty as a reflection of God and communicates this experience to others through the example of his dedicated life. Perhaps saints and poets enjoy life more than most other people. With their gift of sensitivity, they feel, see, and hear more deeply the things that others very often take for granted. When a man is both saint and poet, his life is a reflection of all that is true and beautiful.
In Chapter 2 of his book Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton made the observation that poetry and imagination do not breed insanity, that reason and logic do. G.K. Chesterton was one of the finest minds of the Twentieth Century. It is my hope that someday, he will join the ranks of the Canonized Saints.
If we are to glance at the philosophy of sanity, the first thing to do in the matter is to blot out one big and common mistake. There is a notion adrift everywhere that imagination, especially mystical imagination, is dangerous to man’s mental balance. Poets are commonly spoken of as psychologically unreliable; and generally there is a vague association between wreathing laurels in your hair and sticking straws in it. Facts and history utterly contradict this view. Most of the very great poets have been not only sane, but extremely business-like; and if Shakespeare ever really held horses, it was because he was much the safest man to hold them. Imagination does not breed insanity. Exactly what does breed insanity is reason. Poets do not go mad; but chess-players do. Mathematicians go mad, and cashiers; but creative artists very seldom. I am not, as will be seen, in any sense attacking logic: I only say that this danger does lie in logic, not in imagination. Artistic paternity is as wholesome as physical paternity. Moreover, it is worthy of remark that when a poet really was morbid it was commonly because he had some weak spot of rationality on his brain. Poe, for instance, really was morbid; not because he was poetical, but because he was specially analytical. Even chess was too poetical for him; he disliked chess because it was full of knights and castles, like a poem. He avowedly preferred the black discs of draughts, because they were more like the mere black dots on a diagram. Perhaps the strongest case of all is this: that only one great English poet went mad, Cowper. And he was definitely driven mad by logic, by the ugly and alien logic of predestination. Poetry was not the disease, but the medicine; poetry partly kept him in health. He could sometimes forget the red and thirsty hell to which his hideous necessitarianism dragged him among the wide waters and the white flat lilies of the Ouse. He was damned by John Calvin; he was almost saved by John Gilpin. Everywhere we see that men do not go mad by dreaming. Critics are much madder than poets. Homer is complete and calm enough; it is his critics who tear him into extravagant tatters. Shakespeare is quite himself; it is only some of his critics who have discovered that he was somebody else. And though St. John the Evangelist saw many strange monsters in his vision, he saw no creature so wild as one of his own commentators. The general fact is simple. Poetry is sane because it floats easily in an infinite sea; reason seeks to cross the infinite sea, and so make it finite. The result is mental exhaustion, like the physical exhaustion of Mr. Holbein. To accept everything is an exercise, to understand everything a strain. The poet only desires exaltation and expansion, a world to stretch himself in. The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits.
All around us, there is a general revival of interest in poetry that raises us up from the mundane and humdrum daily existence. Man is no longer satisfied with dullness and mediocrity: his indominable spirit longs to be uplifted to beautiful realities that transcend time and space. In previous times, there was an ecclesiastical interest primarily in Latin poetry for the Sacred Liturgy; while that is still good, we need poetry that reaches into the hearts of modern-day people, and in the United States, that can effectively be done with both modern and traditional English (although not mixed in a single poem, because that would be just straight-up awkward and unintelligent, like the goofy way the Vulcans spoke in the Original Star Trek series episode "Amok Time," whose screenwriter was likely no linguist). I do enjoy the poetry of Saints like Thomas Aquinas, Robert Southwell, Thomas More, John Paul II, and others. Yet, I also enjoy many other poets
I once heard it said that our day and age do not produce the arts like in years or centuries past. The tide has changed; along with the rediscovery of the Gregorian Rite Liturgy (the "Traditional Latin Mass"), there has also been a great springtime in the arts: new classical music, new sacred music, new poetry, new hymns, new paintings, and new sculptures. Many musical compositions should also be considered modern classical music (here I am thinking of outstanding musical scores from motion pictures, like the four films The Lord of the Rings trilogy and Gladiator). To my surprise, the USCCB had a poetry/hymn competition for the Eucharistic Revival. And there is even a Catholic Poetry Society! These are definite signs of hope and renewal.
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I will not spend ‘til my debt end,
Not carry debit card about,
Nor to complain or sulk or pout;
To debt got in, from debt get out.
I have a plan to force my hand:
Fiscal aimlessness to stall,
Fiscal safeguards to install,
Lest temptations do enthrall.
Avoiding strife, for now in life:
Securely place my debit card,
Not touch another credit card,
Distinguish wants from needs, though hard.
Use only cash to be not rash;
Put all my cards into safe-keeping
So that temptations won’t be creeping
Which add to debt another heaping.
Banks make plastic too elastic:
Too easy now it is to swipe,
Spend far too much on deal-hype,
Wants to needs too oft restriped.
I have great books, but for more look:
Those already owned I’ll read,
Then from booklust I’ll be freed
And pay off debt with greater speed.
To be content, from greed repent:
Spend not with liberality
But fiscal practicality,
Learn virtue of frugality.
To increase health would save a wealth:
Change menu to eat whole-foods way,
Far from added sugar stay,
Exercise as doctors say.
To fast a little makes not brittle:
I’ll tighten my belt at the waist,
Eat fridge-stuff to nothing waste,
Eat for strength and not for taste.
Though summer’s hot, sweat-drenched a lot,
To get to gardening outside,
To take a walk with ample stride,
Or puff on my tobacco pipe.
To give my mind time to unwind:
To sit and think in mental chime,
To write a journal entry fine
Or structured poetry with rhyme.
And now I fear I must end here:
In time right living will bestow
Fiscal virtue, this I know,
Through this fiscal manifesto.
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| Image Source |
Eating out
Without doubt
Is the main
Money-drain.
Wicked knaves
Made us slaves
Through our debt,
Now we fret.
To our debt
Slaves as yet.
Save a dime,
Tried for crime.
At the store
Food costs much –
Biden’s touch.
Taxes hiked,
Interest spiked,
Money earned
Quickly burned.
Household fight
With great might
About how
We must chow:
Diet and
Spend a grand?
Or get fed
With cheap bread?
Cost to live
Drains like sieve:
Paycheck earned,
Biden-spurned.
College fails,
Just makes sales;
Biden bails
Students’ wails.
Biden’s mind
Cannot find
Reason to
String words few.
Nanny-wife
Makes her life
Speaking for
Daftest bore.
He’s a tool,
Witless fool,
Enemies
Use as please.
Yet our vote
Had been smote
By their plot:
Cheaters’ draught.
What to do,
Me and you?
To be Christ
Will suffice.
Power all
God makes fall
Or to stay
For each day.
To rebel
Leads to hell;
Better way:
To obey.
See, God’s plan
Gives to man
Every grace
For to face
Satan’s wiles
To defile
Us within
By our sin.
Anger is
Just a fizz,
Give it time
To unwind.
Lust is fire,
Don’t inquire;
Work a craft
To distract.
Covet none,
Envy shun;
Be content,
Peace thus sent.
Don’t complain,
It is vain,
Turns to vice
Sacrifice.
Be not stuffed;
Eat enough
To be strong,
Carry on.
Laziness,
Fruitlessness;
Not to work
Has no worth.
Be not drunk
In your bunk;
Stay alert,
Drink for mirth.
If paid more,
Put in store;
Paid-off debt
Freedom gets.
Humble be
For to see;
Pride is stiff,
Causes rifts.
You will find
Pride is blind:
Will not see
Aught but “me!”
Greed is cruel
Chains for fools;
Avoids care,
Fuels despair.
Deceit, lies,
Bring demise:
Who deceives
None believes.
Wise men give
While they live;
Misers save
To their grave.
Senseless wit
Is unfit
For a crown
Or renown.
Takes his gift,
Buries it
Out of fear,
Shame so near.
Snowflakes will
Raze to nil
Others’ wealth
For offense felt:
Claim to be
Trigg’d by screeds:
Clear excuse,
Court’s abuse.
That is theft,
Sense bereft;
To restore,
Avoids war.
Civil war
Men deplore,
Yet ‘tis cold,
We are sold:
Taxes steal,
People reel:
Billions sent
To lost war’s dent.
Laund’ring scheme
The real theme:
Ukraine spends,
Contracts Dems.
Criminals
Ever thrive;
Citizens
Bare survive.
Children’s stand,
Lemonade,
Is harassed
For “tax unpaid.”
Greedy fools,
Unjust rules
Steal in stages
Honest wages.
We the People,
‘Neath the steeple,
Beg God vanquish
Deadly anguish.
Ten percent
Good for God;
Government
Takes more broad.
And yet, God’s plan
I understand:
He makes poor
Seek His stores,
Stores of grace,
Stores of love,
And seek our place
In heav’n above.
We don’t despair
When world’s unfair;
We don’t look grim,
But look to Him.
In God we trust,
Forgive we must,
Though men unjust
Fill with disgust.
God does provide,
Steps not aside,
He won’t despise
Our upturned eyes.
God never sleeps,
He hears our weeps
Wept in the deeps,
Provides in heaps.
For all our days
We sing His praise,
Walk in His ways
And seek His gaze.
Do not take light
The Lord of might,
For He will fight
And make things right.
We turn our hearts
As loving darts
To God most high
Yet ever nigh.
When exile ends,
This life upends,
If I’m God’s friend,
He will defend
My very life;
Eternal strife
Will never be
The end for me.
