More on saints, secular and otherwise…



Most mothers are saints, grandmas, aunties, and sisters
and second cousins are sweet sainted honeybees
bustling in kitchens with flour, butter, and eggs
baking bread, cakes, and pies for nascent wannabees

There are wannabee saints who promised the world to some girl
then left before she delivered the baby or in the next few years
the baby still in diapers they played lover boy and churl
their trip to sainthood left in the lurch, they shifted genital gears

Saintly worker bees continue their love making money/honey
proving daily their potential in providing for the queen
in the hive are the drones for whom daily work is not funny
their wings fanning the way to sainthood somewhere in between

Wannabees go from being stamen with pistol flour to flower
while honeybee saints drip honeycomb hour by sticky hour


What’s the difference between a martyr and a saint?
both could be a long time dead, now statues and paint
one might have died for a cause in a manner quaint
others were murdered and on their souls not a taint

The only real saint I’ve ever known is my mother
she put up with an alcoholic husband who beat her
and dealt with wise guys like me and my brothers
my younger sisters were darlings and much sweeter

A Jesuit Argentine Pope in Rome named Francis
has come up with two new papal saints for answers
martyrs were often imprisoned before they died
saints often lived holy lives and had their religion tried

Martyrdom takes seconds, roads to sainthood are harder
the heart of the soul defines the saint or the martyr

(Joseph Campbell advised seekers, “Follow your bliss”)

Trying to follow looking for that ‘sacred space’
hoping to find my very own ‘bliss station’
stumbling away from the rowdy rat race
not even knowing when I’m in the situation

In ancient Sanskrit “SAT” means being
“CHIT” refers to total consciousness
how do we relate to what we are seeing
when do we go beyond making a guess

“ANANDA” is Sanskrit for bliss or rapture
what bliss is I’m uncertain still not sure
I kiss any ideas that I’m able to capture
so my ‘sacred space’ and ‘bliss station’ will endure

Rilke tells us to …“ live with the question”
I stumble along slowly seeking the direction

(dedicated to Pope Francis, who asked)

The new Argentine pope asked, “Who am I to judge?”
he felt the Curia was unwilling to budge
protected in the Papal enclave acreage
used to bearing that Roman Catholic guilt cudgel

Only brief Papal bulletins they had to dodge
in a confessional mode their sins they could fudge
transgressors of truth many held more than one grudge
no sweat when confronted with a contrite deluge

Till Francis gave them a non prosequitur nudge
look to the poorest you who need moral courage
down their path you may begin your penitent trudge
let love and forgiveness under your red caps lodge

Though you all are part of the Cardinal’s College
humility should prevail in your sacred knowledge


Foolish angels rush out into cyberspace
basking and building on binary theorem
each program and pilgrim has its exact place
these cherubs guarantee that you hear them

Not just the dogs that seem to run free
not just the angels from below and above
but those with a kindly and caring degree
sharing freely caring to show us their love

Naysayers negate and are ready to pounce
jumping on the unaware for making a move
never giving an inch not even an ounce
when those foolish angels get out of their groove

Thankful for love and after laughter the thought
no fear expressing what they’ve been taught

Joey ‘Pepe Batbon’ Connolly Dayao
This post is published under the Contributing Author. He/she does not normally work for Saipan Tribune but contributes for a specific topic or series.

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