A curated collection of Gerard Ross’s poems from spiritual reflection and childhood memory to satire, social commentary, and compassion for the unheard.
I got a text message one day
I opened it up to see what it did say
Said I was the winner of an expense paid trip
Two round trip tickets to the Gaza Strip
Said to my wife, “Well that sounds pretty good.
It’ll probably be peaceful and holy like Trump said it would.
We can walk in the places where Jesus did.
We can follow His steps from the break of dawn.
Even visit Bethlehem where He was born.”
So we boarded our flight on Trump Airway
Even the bag of peanuts bore his name I dare say
The flight was smooth and peaceful as can be
as we approached the Sea of Galilee.
I looked out the window on this sacred trip
and gazed upon Disney Gaza Strip!
I saw Donald’s face on the ferris wheel.
Well I guess this is part of the art of the deal.
I saw Mickey and Minnie as we continued to descend.
They were wearing hats saying “Make Palestine Great Again.”
We touch down on Elon Musk International Field
All just part of the grand Ole Deal!
We got off the plane in this place like a dream
Not one Palestinian was to be seen
They whooshed us in a car to our hotel we were gone!
There stood a statue of Trump with a yamaka on!
In the lobby was a painting of The Last Supper as we toured
with Trump sitting at the head of the table instead of the Lord
Instead of the Apostles on his left and right
It was Stormy Daniels and Elon Musk what an unusual sight
Well I said you can only serve one master you know
We approached the Desk Clerk to check us in
He was dressed like a Roman Centurian
He told us the King Herod Luxury Suite was booked
So too was the Pilate Master King gone
He said though the Judas Iscariot Studio was vacant
for 30 pieces of bitcoin you can take it; No Refunds
It’s a nice room with views of many
The window faces directly The Garden of Gethesemane
We open the door and guess what we saw
A bottle of Trump water down on the floor
just above was the Bible which was The Version According to Trump
Later we stepped out on Trump Blvd. to explore
Every block had a toll booth if you wanted to walk more
We asked how much to the Via Dolorosa?
They told us a GPS was attached to your toe-za!
We later went to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre
where the tomb of Jesus himself would be
We waited on line for hours to see
Finally, we got into the room where Jesus was led
But we saw a copy of a birth certificate from Queens, NY instead
Hanging next to an encasing of a bloody piece of ear
Many a persons were shedding a tear. OH MY!
When we got back to our room we saw
the invoice bill sitting on the floor
Itemizing a charge for our toilet bowl and more.
I opened the Bible to Revelations and it came to me
who the Anti-Christ is, it’s clearly to see.
People Take Heed!
[signature]
Gerard Ross
An anti Anti-Christ
“VIVA LA PAPA”
Ripped through St. Peter’s Square
Praise to the Holy Infant of Pontifical Affairs
Invasions of Bonaparte scars
fill the sacred walls
of the most holy Conclave
To where God and duty calls
Cardinals flock and sip their tea
as the shark and serpent cruise
A vacant Holy See
Where echoes are heard
of St. Peter’s desperate plea
Cardinals wear vestments of the Spirit and unity
While others wear masks of Division and Hypocracy
As we stand in wait
for the smoke to rise
for our hungry, apprehensive anticipating eyes
From 133 hearts and souls sets the spark
To 133 hands, the ballots to mark
One chimney of historical acclaim
And a puff of smoke
Holds promise of a Holy Reign.
Gerard A. Ross
May 4, 2025
(Inspired by Father Michael’s Homily)
This poem is written with the outcast in mind
The deaf, the broken and the blind
The one crucified alone and friendless
The weary, the home bound and the homeless
The dreamers and the sleepless
For the vagabond bag lady teeth ripped out of her mouth
in a silent winter’s night across from the chapel
as carolers sing gleefully abed a soft blanket of snow
The unborn torn assunder and cast away
Unnamed and unclaimed, never to see a single day
He whose scars and wounds are frozen in time
Unpredictably, yet inevitably like a pendulum swinging
To steal away each potential new beginning
The tree without trembling leaves in the mild autumn wind
The victim child whom no one believes
Heart filled with song but rhyme is all wrong
He whose dreams and visions are few and pale
The cancer patient whose therapy is to no avail
He whose prayers are few, unheard and unfinished
with truth so divided and diminished
and faith so completely finished
Whose optimism is scattered like ashes
at a mournful afternoon service
Whose minutes of purgatory become an eternity in Hell
whose hope has the future of a morning dew
waiting for the hot summer sun to arrive
For a single mother struggling to survive
The shopping mall panhandler getting leaner and leaner
For the poor family in the Lowlands awaiting Katrina
The gambler holding aces and eights
The middle child everyone hates
For the unknown saint who gave his life for humanity
For the Pope no one listens to for like of wealth and vanity
To these and many more – To thee I write of
whether it be politics, satire, religion or humanity
I write by the influence of true Christianity!
Written by: Gerard Ross
12/26/2025
I was born in a place called Brooklyn
Where I never saw a brook
In a state known as the Empire State
Which lacked leadership
Within a country called the United States
That couldn’t have been more divided
I grew up on the street of Hate
Across from a church called “Our Lady of Hope”
About three miles south of “Lady Liberty”
When on a good day I could see clear past her glorious torch
To Rikers Island Detention Center peeking over her shoulder
As I daydreamed from my fourth grade classroom window
We drove on paved roads where in worn spots
Could be seen cobble stones and trolley tracks beneath
A reminder of days gone by
Though still quite visible in divided neighborhoods
With souls of unpaved hearts
Teachers skilled in whitewashing minds and souls
Political leaders spoke in tongues of white supremacy & Black irrelvancy
Heartless merchants sold rotten fruit to minority customers
Blacks marched and beaten in the South
and in my town called ignorant troublemakers
Parents ranting in homes in front of black and white TV’s
In cushy armchairs screaming “Send them back to Africa”
Their children victims of their words
Supermarket shelves stocked with white bread and Caucasian band-aids
Aunt Jemima syrup and Uncle Ben’s rice
As Amos and Andy entertained
and Archie Bunker Wanna Be’s watched
Real Estate agents skilled in exclusion
Justice System with two levels of Jurisprudence
Ebbets Field in a hot summer swelter
Smells of hot dogs, beer and bad baseball
Sounds of “Sym-phony” and cowbell
Struck the tune of the afternoon
Then came Jackie and redemption
and beautiful it was, but maybe a bit too real
As they soon were gone
Many hearts broken
Off to the Gold Rush of the West
as we and others fled to northern pastures
Howdy County of Trees
Good-Bye City of Homogenees!
Merry Christmas
and
Happy New Year!
WRITTEN BY: GERARD ROSS
DEC. 16. 2025
Last night, a terrible dream through my mind passed
as I dreamed I was going to Sunday Mass.
Like many other Sundays, a little different though,
the Hymn they sang, I did not know.
The Hymn they were singing was #357:
“Locked & Loaded and Ready for Heaven.”
God, Grits and Guns was their theme
Is this for real or just a crazy dream?
Grandma was packing heat under her shawl;
Grandpa was too, along with his bottle of Geritol.
Suddenly, I felt very safe and secure
as the grocery store packer stood guard at the door.
He looked so brave, strong and astute
with his Markman’s Degree from Trump Institute.
We were all full of pride without any fear
Even the usher looked a little like Wayne LaPierre.
There were guns of every type as I recall.
Father came down the aisle to bless them all.
Just then, a thump came from outside the door
as the whole congregation fell to the floor.
Babies were crying, walkers flying, phones were ringing,
Choir was singing, panic springing.
Just then, the suspect swung open the door
as the Congregation all rose from the floor
shouting: “Hands up you lousy, left wing, commie, LGBT,
atheist, alien migrant bum!” . . . . . . . . . .
It was the Maintenance Man! He forgot his Hammer!
Now, at this point, I knew this was only a bad dream
when I remembered last night I had Fox News up on the screen.
Now, more than ready to awaken from this nightmare
and return to my church, to the people who care.
No more Right Wing, Paranoia for me!
I’m going back to Our Lady Star of the Sea!
Enough is enough! It is time to make
ALL the World, a Gun Free Zone.
May the Prince of Peace be our inspiration.
Catholic AGAINST GUNS!
Written by Gerard Ross
Signature
Date: 12-20-2024
GERARD ROSS
Priceless pearl of the sea
Meant just for me
Perfectly formed
and graciously adorned
With all things worthy
To God and man
As the pearl is most
beautiful Amongst gems,
You are MOST beautiful
Amongst women
formed with the deep blue sea
And ONLY for me.
Love,
Gerard
Written by Gerard Ross
As Socrates and Plato joined hands Diogenes put his lamp down in the sands Archimedes solved his final equation The Sphinx turned away both beaten and brazen Descarte and Kant went back to school clueless The apple in Eden was restored to its fulness
Cupid took aim and set my heart aflame. The Universe was finally at one with all things. As I gazed upon my love walking toward me with wings. Cupid’s arrow passed through body and blood into Spirit and soul My life FOREVER made whole.
My Forever Valentine Catherine
Love, Gerard Written by Gerard Ross
I woke up Got out of bed with a sleepy head What day is it?
Oh, I remember now Holy Cow Oh Happy Day Hooray, Hooray It’s my birthday Yippee!
It’s time to flee back to my memory of yesteryears gone by and realize as I surmise I’m not growing older; only better & wiser knowing today will be tomorrow’s yesterday when I was so much younger then I am FOREVER Young
How does it feel Is this really for real
Where did the time go? I do not know For life is racing me by Oh me, Oh my How can this be that I’m now 73 and I do believe the BEST is yet to be!
Resounding in my ears without a care “If you’re happy and you know it Clap your hands.”
Oh yes, I can clap my hands I am a forever Yankees fan!
