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“The Hurting Game” copyright 2012 John J. Rigo, upcoming poetry book, “Passion Amidst Apathy”

Posted in "The Hurtful Game" a new poem by John J. Rigo, Poetry, tagged , , , , , , , on June 18, 2013| 1 Comment »

 

Courtesy of mujerenarmmonia.com

There is a game we play with couples.
It is called the “Hurting Game.”
It is a game that can weaken Love
or destroy Love between two people.
 
In early romances
we seek beautiful
and positive statements
to relate to each other.
 
It is later that the
“Hurting Game” begins.
It starts out with a small
biting criticism.
The heart is hurt by
the receiver.
 
Uncared words between two Lovers
can be knife cuts to the very heart.
Generally in these hurts does it become
pay back time with a similar cutting remark
when the occasion arises. 
 
Many times the Game
increases in intensity.
It is then done before
friends and relatives.
 
Such acts make the hurts
even deeper in their pain.
It is not time to break this circle?
 
Promise each other this day
that the hurtful words in the future
will only be replaced with words
of Love, Kindness and Praise.
 
In so doing
will you both find in each other again
the love you both so richly deserve.
 

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"A Conversation about Life and Death" copyright 2005 John J. Rigo "Rainbows Amidst Storms"

Posted in A Blessed Easter to All from John J. Rigo Texas' Commentator, One poem of Seven of the "Masters Series of Poems", Poetry, tagged , , , , , , , on June 7, 2013| 1 Comment »

 
 

Courtesy of aboveandbeyonddautism.blogspot.com

The Master‘s hands were strong and hard
from years of work as a carpenter
just like his father.
 
The creation of His hands had a gentle quality
such as the toy camel and shepherd
He was crafting this night.
 
His sister had begged Him to make a toy for her child.
With love and humor He worked several nights.
In the back of the villa the room was small and cramped
making the carving difficult as the oil lamp light flickered.
 
Entering the doorway with a quiet sweep of the door blanket
came His sister’s oldest son.
Many questions burned in the mind
of this young man on this night.
 
Quietly he approached the Master
so as to not disturb His carving.
The young man whispered,
“Master do you have time to speak with me?”
 
Gently and with love the Master set the little wooden carving
aside and reached for the boy’s shoulder saying,
“What is troubling you this night
son of my sister?”
 
The boy replied,
“I am afraid about death
and where I will go when I die
since no one alive
has ever been to the place that dead people go
and returned
how am I to know what to expect?”
 
With patience and the deepest of kindness
toward the concerns of the young man
the Master spoke,
“Telling humanity of the world beyond death
would be like explaining
the sight of sunrise or sunset to a person
who had always been blind.”
 
He further explained,
“Beyond our lifetime is a world inconceivable
to the senses of man
beyond every gift rendered in this world around us. 
It is a world of being
in the midst of eternal love
and never fearing again.
 
It is knowing light beyond any light
we now know of in this world.
It is never being alone again
but cherished in the arms of a mother.
 
So will it be in the arms of our God
forever in eternal love
peace and happiness.”
So He spoke to me
the Master of my life.  
 



		
	
					
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"Words Upon My Stone" excerpt from "Roses Amidst Thorns" copyright 2005 by John J. Rigo

					

					Posted in Poetry, tagged , , , , , , ,  on May 31, 2013|
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Arlington
Courtesy of Arlington


Someone asked me once


what I wanted to be


when I finally grew up.


 


I said to them, “Let me be a poet


with words that are never forgotten


in my journey of life.


 


Let my journey be one of joy 


discovered in sorrow


to all of those who read my words.


 


When death finally enters my door


a special note upon my stone


I request be placed in memory of me


upon an earth that I visited


for a short time.


 


Let the words in simple chiseled letters


read thusly, ‘He was not a simple man


for God did not make him so.


He only wanted to be simply known


as a poet.'”


 


 




 




 


 

					
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“I Believe In America” copyright 2011 John J. Rigo, upcoming poetry book, “Passion Amidst Apathy”

					

					Posted in Poetry, upcoming book "Passion Amidst Apathy", tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,  on May 29, 2013|
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Courtesy of followshipofminds.wordpress.com


I believe in America.


Land where my heart lives.


It is a land of accomplished dreams.


A land of courage.


A land that accepts all comers.


A land that gives hope to us all.


 


America overcomes all those who attempt


to bring evil to her shores.


America is the beacon of freedom to the world.


 


America is my land.


America is my home.


Keep America strong.


Impeach Obama.


 


If you do not love 


America


please leave her.


 

					
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A Banner Day, “Over 38,000 Hits” copyright 2013 John J. Rigo, Texas’ Poet

					

					Posted in A Banner Christmas Holiday Day with Over 34000 hits!, A Banner Day of 37000 hits, A Great WordPress Poetry Site, A Texas' Poetry Site at 36000 hits, Poetry, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,  on May 10, 2013|
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Courtesy of umazzing.com


As of May 10th, 2013, the “Texas‘ Poetry Site” reached another milestone of 38,000 plus hits.  My deepest thanks and appreciation to the WordPress family, and all those who share my spiritual poetry work, as well as my Texas’ Commentary posts regarding my new communities in Henderson County, Texas, Eustace, Texas, Gun Barrel City, Texas and the Nation. 

					
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"The Master Speaks of God’s Love" copyright 2008 (Revised) John J. Rigo upcoming poetry book, "Passion Amidst Apathy"

					

					Posted in Poetry, Texas' Poetry, upcoming book "Passion Amidst Apathy", tagged , , , , ,  on May 9, 2013|
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“………..pointing to a star”


 


 


The night sky was a deep black with blazing stars


over the Master and His disciples


this particular night along the sea of Galilee.


It was a time of quiet contemplation of the beauty of God’s work.


 


Within the group of His disciples


one disciple had a troubling question.


With reverence he approached the Master with his question.


“Does God’s Love for us have bounds when remembering our sins in His Eternal Memory?” 


asked the disciple quietly as to not disturb the other men in the group.


 


The Master lifted His Head toward the night sky 


and pointed His finger to a bright star saying, 


“As you look upon the stars in the night sky


many have long changed in form


and are no more.  


 


The distance is so great in the travel of that light 


that we still see those suns prior to their changing of form.  


So it is in the breath of God’s Love for us 


it is also beyond the width


depth and height of such distances from us.


 


Since His Love for us is unconditional 


so is His memory of our sins.


In asking His forgiveness of our sins 


their memory no longer exists in eternity.”


So spoke that night


the Master of My Life. 

					
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"Chemo" copyright 2008 John J. Rigo upcoming Poetry Book, "Passion Amidst Apathy"

					

					Posted in Chemo, Poem, Poem regarding Cancer, Poetry, tagged , , , , , , ,  on May 6, 2013|
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Courtesy of answersto.wordpress.com


 


 


I could see the sadness in her eyes


as each chunk of her golden hair came forth in her hand.


She placed her once shining, golden flax into a plastic bag


to be reminded of the beauty of her hair.


 


Her hair stylist assured her that baking soda


washed gently in her hair would prevent


the falling of her hair from her scalp.


 


In giving her this suggestion


the stylist refused to cut her hair shorter


in order to make her lost easier to bear.


The stylist was wrong.


 


Bear witness to the shining and blotched scalp


where beautiful golden hair once resided.


Nightmares of her past returned to her.


 


Remembrance of a childhood ring worm of her head


returned to haunt her again


of laughing classmates


finger-pointing to stocking capped head.


 


The Spector of Death upon a black chair


drove her to the decision 


to move forward to this dreaded treatment.


 


Was the fear real


or made to fill the pockets of her doctors?


Payments for the Rolls convertible that sat


shiny and pale green in the doctor’s slot


of the cancer treatment center.


 


A large cow-like-barn room


where milking looking machines of death


pumped their questionable medicine into their hosts.


 


A winged angel of slow death


masked as an Angel of Life


to claim another possible victim


in its green flow of money from perhaps


its victims?


 


Dear God,


please protect


the one I love so dearly


from this possible 


self-inflicted treatment.

					
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"My Beloved Survivor" copyright 2009 (Possible PG13 rating) John J. Rigo, upcoming book, "Passion Amidst Apathy"

					

					Posted in Overcoming Breast Cancer Twice, Poetry, tagged , , , , , , ,  on May 5, 2013|
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Courtesy of Hubpages.com


 


She stood naked before me in the bathroom.


Before me I can see her beauty


amidst the scars of her two battles.


 


Breast cancer


twice in a ten year period.


 


Her left breast was twisted almost inward.


The scar under her arm pit made her nipple


bend inward toward her chest wall.


 


Upon her right breast the burn was clearly seen.


It was where six weeks of radiation were done


in one week. 


 


The right side was caved inward in this area of burn.


Her nipple stood straight high and proud on this breast. 


This was the breast that the doctor suggested


that she also have chemo due to her second bout.


 


Her hair had long grown back from this terror


of a heart-wrenching attack on her entire body.


 


As she smiled at me


and kissed the top of my head.


 


I thanked my Lord


for putting this beautiful


and strong woman


in my life.   

					
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"The Myth of Perfection" copyright 2005 John J. Rigo "Roses Amidst Thorns"

					

					Posted in Poetry, tagged , , , , , , ,  on April 23, 2013|
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Courtesy of fotolog.com


 


 


Many have the belief 


that there is perfection in this world.


It does not exist 


on this earth and plane for us.


 


We are only privileged to see


feel and hear parts of perfection


but never the whole of perfection.


 


The pieces that represent


the beauty of God and heaven


are shown in glimpses each day


in our lives on this earth.


 


It is our soul that catches these flashes of eternity


and renders us the perfection of God.


 


It is through prayer 


and centering ourselves 


in the love of God


that we are privileged to gain knowledge


of the eternity that is before us.

					
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“The Judgement of Our Gifts” copyright 2011 John J. Rigo, upcoming book, “Passion Amidst Apathy”

					

					Posted in Our Last Judgement, Poetry, upcoming book "Passion Amidst Apathy", tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,  on April 22, 2013|
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Courtesy of nurpublishers.com
Courtesy of nurpublishers.com


One day


We will walk the path of light.


Unsure if our Lord will be pleased with us.




Will we be met with an embrace of Love


or will we see disappointment in the Face of our Saviour?


Least we forget the gifts of our Lord.


Will we be judged


on how we shared His gifts?

					
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