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What are the passions?
"The passions are the feelings, the emotions or the movement of the sensible appetite--natural components of human psychology--which incline a person to act or not act in view of what is perceived as good or evil. The principle passions are love and hatred, desire and fear, joy, sadness, and anger."
(Compendium CCC, 370. Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2006) The Compendioum's source on this topic is the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas.
Is it my imagination or has Valentine's Day on performance enhancing drugs this year? Today is yet another "first" as I learn to navigate my way across a calander that includes divorce. All my friends are married, so I'll most likely spend the evening alone.
Times like this, I cry if I need to, and then I find something to laugh about. So today, I hope you'll get a kick out of two crazy poems I ran acorss in a bad poetry contest. Laughter is the best medicine. For me, it's better than chocolate. So if you're going it alone, I hope this brings laughter to your day.
My love for you is full and overflowing
Like my bladder after I can no longer hold it
Like I want to hold you . . . But you are not here
And I don't blame you, well, yes I do.
I blame you for everything.
My depression, the medications, my therapist's bill.
My Prozatic double vision wouldn't be so bad if I saw two of you.
And my nighmares from hell might just be bearable
if I woke up next to you.
And the drool on my pillow, shouldn't be there.
It should be you, on my pillow, but you're not.
You're safe in your warm bed, snuggled next to your . . . dog
who's on your pillow, drooling.
And you don't care! You lie there like I don't even exist.
Like I'm not knocking on the window of your heart.
I feel my soul emptying of life,
like my bladder right now on your lawn,
and that's your fault too!
by Gina Conroy
Here's one by Aimee L. Salter (c) 2010
Our love is like a rose
A really, really big rose
Bigger than any rose anyone else has ever compared their love to before.
A rose as big as a planet.
No, the sun.
Our love is a rose as big as a planet and as bright as the sun.
So bright it would burn your eyeballs out of your head.
You'd walk around with these big gaping holes where your eyeballs should be if you looked at our love.
And this huge rose,
Bigger than a planet
And as bright as the sun
Doesn't have any thorns.
Well, okay it does but the thorns don't have points.
They're just nubs.
Nubs that wouldn't hurt a ginormous baby
If a baby was big enough to pick the planet-sized, sun-rose.
The only way the nubs would ever hurt anyone
Is if you stuffed them into the gaping eye-holes
Left behind when someone looked at the brightness of our love.
Cause they would get infected with the nubs in there.
But evern then they could just look at
The brightness of our love again
And the brightness would burn so bright
It would cauterize the nub-infection
And burn the nubs out too.
So your gaping eye-holes would heal.
They would be healed by the burning brightness of our
Massive, planet-sized, eye-searing, wound-cauterizing, love-rose
Even though your mother thinks I don't deserve you.
Peace, love, laughter--and chocolate (if it means that much to you) this Valentine's Day.
Published on Friday, February 14, 2014 @ 1:37 PM CDT