Notes: Dudley Street goes through Boston's Roxbury neighbourhood. Domine non sum dignus: Lord, I am not worthy. Three degrees above zero: as measured in Fahrenheit; the Celsius equivalent would be -16 degrees.

Seven Devotional Poems



i am zacchaeus

fumbling up the sycamore

to catch a glimpse


i am the leper

flinging my corruption

onto the mercy of jesus


i am the woman at the well

parched at high noon

a dry and barren land

where no water is


i am the psalmist

grief dims my eyes

my beauty is gone

for very trouble


i am pope francis

kneeling to wash

the feet of inmates

on holy thursday


i am a prisoner of sin

a mendicant of mercy

begging for blessings

greedy for grace




i am mary of bethany

and jesus rides the number 15 bus

in the heartadown dudley


smiling unsmiling

radiant weary

brown and black faces

of the sweet lord christ


domine non sum dignus


only say the word

my soul shall be healed




repentance steven tells me

does not wear a long face

as it is the freedom

to rejoice




it is liberating to be abject

it is exaltation to be humble

it is resurrection to be dust




winter liturgy

in the roxbury convent


three degrees above zero outside

but warm in the schoolhouse chapel


the "old-shoe" priest father waldron

head bandaged from recent surgery


nonagenarian sisters

of the blessed sacrament

praying over the hiss and clank

of the aged radiator


on a table in the back of the chapel

a beat-up paperback

by the jesuit william barry

god and you




dare we hope

in a god

who loves us

not in spite of

but because




my lord my god

you cannot be

that white-bearded cartoon


my lord my god

are you the love

that religion seems to forbid


my lord my god

can you restore

all that you have taken away


my lord my god

do you reside on high in the clouds

or live among bricks and dust


my lord my god

your faithful servant lies beneath

the wreckage of his hopes


my lord my god

my heart cannot rest in you

you have given my soul no peace


my lord my god

you are the cruel fate

to which i am condemned


my lord my god

you are the cross

on which i hang

Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2017-11-02 at 03:44

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one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
It seems to be a night for digging deep. Maybe it's winter's onset.
I don't know if it's Divine Inspiration, maybe, but these poems seem to be a little other-worldly, coming from somewhere deep. I mean that as a sincere compliment, they are rich fare.

Kathy Lockhart
A very moving compilation. A piece for meditation and reflection. Honest and profound.