Best Man Of The Cloth Poems
For a man of the cloth, our dear vicar
is not very partial to clothes
He is almost allergic to trousers
and y-fronts get right up his nose.
Ev’ry Sunday as he climbs in the pulpit
(where the choir boys are sitting below)
His meat and two veg are seen swinging
And it’s proof that he is commando
The ladies who bake and do flowers
don’t know if to scream or to peek
but Olga the Organist’s smiling
and she’s practising eight days a week!
At this year’s summer fete it was breezy
and the wind, I’m afraid, took its toll
His cassock blew up to his waistline
as he served up the last sausage roll
I've heard when he goes on vacation
He suns himself on a nudist beach
and his wife applies his sun lotion
to stop his tush looking like a ripe peach
03/14/20
A cobbler may balance his trade, the mending of soles
With that of a mender of souls, exchanging roles
With a man of the cloth, making two Roman officials
Wroth, in the opening scene of Shakespeare's 'Julius Caesar'
Yet when barefoot you walk, on cobblestone streets
It's quite hard to focus on spiritual needs
So there is, indeed, a connection between a man of the cloth and a cobbler
Perhaps more than between an elected official and a squabbler
A thin, frail man of the cloth
who went to England to study law at the age of 19
It was there that he was inspired by
Henry David Thoreau’s ‘Civil Disobedience’
On Jan. 30, 1948 at 5:12 in the evening
as he walked to a prayer meeting
Nathuram Vanayak Godge,
a young Hindu who opposed his views
approached him and bowed
A young girl in the group said
“Brother, Bapu is already late”
He pushed her aside and shot him...
three times in the chest
with a Beretta semi-automatic pistol
His last words were “Rama, Rama”
meaning to him ‘The same God’
Rama is derived from the Hebrew word ‘womb’
also meaning mercy and compassion
which is why it is said that he forgave his killer
before he died…
The name Mahatma means ‘great soul’
Just as Gandhi was inspired by Thoreau
Martin Luther King was in turn inspired by Gandhi
Mahatma Gandhi. A thin, frail man of the cloth
who shook the world to its very foundations
And the battle rages on...
***Dedicated to the people of the country of Bangladesh, who have suffered yet another great tragedy...One of many in their very short history. Gandhi, by the way, strongly opposed the division of the two countries when they won independence...The title of this poem of course does not mean that Gandhi was Catholic or any other Christian religion. Gandhi practiced Hinduism, yet he was a true 'man of the cloth'...wearing only homemade loincloths and sandals
For Cyndi’s contest
When across the land, water
flowed
And on top of the hut, the cock
crowed
When under the moon, dreams
were hope
And in pursuit of good, they
never stop....,
There, was a country
When cries heard, were of
sucking babies
And the speech of our lords
were glad tidings
When man of the cloth, search
of God wisdom
And those we crowned, toiled
to feed our kingdom....,
There, was a country
When plough shares, worked
the ground
And in sweat, fists were never
clinched
When the land to the nation
brought forth grain
And the fists of fathers, never
caused pain....,
There, was a country
When drums were of dance and
praise of gods
And voices of mothers were
sounds that soothe our souls
When in dark night, the land
was with light
And in day, evil was never hid
from nature's bright....,
There was a country
When the wind blew our flag
high with pride
And the death of our heroes
would bring grief countrywide
When those of the east would
long to meet our king
And of the west, would feed
from our pastures green....,
There, was a country
But now here we stand...,
Without a vesture of covering
Our streams, crimson and our
streets, a chotic tide
Youths fighting
Fathers toiling
Mothers wailing
Politics, a canker to our
economy
******
The Spiritual wings'
Of Eternity there-by
Expands' with me and you
We sing the praises'
Of Christ....
And totally abhor
His Holy sacrifice
------
We seek His wisdom
We seek it in His Name
But,
Should we have did
What He had did
On the CROSS
------
The one in the same
------
Should it have ended that way
Could we have just stayed
With Jesus'
The Man of the Cloth.....
Under different circumstances'
We all could have been lost
------
Fore The Lord is Thy Shepard
Could we have followed
That day'....
In the name of the Lord
Give due praises'
------
And just let us pray!
We shall become Resurrect
Come Judgement day'
Poet Author
Gary Fields
copyright Apr2012
poetrysoup.com
She cries herself to sleep each night
That is if she is able to get a shoot
Up her vein of the loathsome drug
She wishes she not so dependent
Her boyfriend introduced her
To the drug and being all mellow..
She said yes thinking it an act of love
She was in college then now no more
She recalls the good upbringing she had
Her father was a man of the cloth..
Her mama a dedicated medical nurse
They had laid her a good foundation
Her boyfriend had subsequently
Dumped her asking her rudely..
To henceforth pay for her shoots
She cries herself to sleep
Maria her parents had named her
The irony of that chaste name..
Leaves a bitter taste in her mouth
Maybe tomorrow will be better
The miserable dreaded cold turkey
Is relieved by the euphoria of the drug
Only to be replaced by pangs of guilt
Then its trip down hill with no cushions
A thief,doctor even a man of the cloth,
life and death, you can have one but never both.
Many seek survival at all cost.
A last breath, the battle and war are lost.
The preacher says dust to dust.
The buried now a mere fragment of the past.
Here death has won.
Labor pains pains, a debate on names.
A boy, a girl?
All is well.
The midwife guides,
The mother fights,
The husband waits.
The baby finally comes,
Gives a shrill cry.
Tiny fingers and thumbs,
A tiny fist.
As if to say"I am tiny but i will fight that beast"
Beast?death defeated by mother and child.
Here life has won.
Tears of joy, tears of pain,
Tears all the same.
The child cries at birth,
The mourners at the funeral.
Life and death seem to be lovers.
The dead, life's gift to death.
The newly born, death's gift to life.
continued
The Phantom Vampire’s ritual on the foggy nights of the
“Cold Dark Yellow Unhallowed Moon” is to drink the blood
Of as many young innocent people as he can all the while
Destroying their lives and tormenting their souls in an
Unending Existence of evil and debauchery as minions of
The Undead . . . .
As a servant of Lucifer himself, the Phantom Vampire’s
Principal charge is that of a “Soul Seeker”— and seeking
Them he does quite successfully while destroying lives
This unending process is interrupted only by the dawn of
The next day’s morning as the bright rays of sunlight warm
The Earth and purify and sanctify the power and purpose of
The Almighty Lord God . . . .
As a priest . . . a man of the cloth in this bucolic Irish village
Along the sea coast, I hold my head in shame and revulsion
At the evil escapades rendered by the Phantom Vampire
During his nocturnal visits to feed on the blood and souls
Of our innocent people . . . .
I always turn and talk to God while earnestly praying for their
Blind souls through their gossamer eyelids and seeking the
Lord’s divine protection and delivery from this most dark and
Wretched evil . . . May the bright sunlight show them the
Road to true happiness during the Feast of All Souls and to the
Gates of Salvation . . . .
With no fear and with most clear purpose in mind and the divine
Support of our Almighty Lord God in Heaven . . . I shall be the
One fulfilling God’s charge in driving that long wooden stake—
Blessed with Holy Water and Angel’s Dust—through that
Evil dead putrid heart of the Phantom Vampire!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (November 6, 2014)
No matter how devoted one is to their chosen faith, they forget, or have never understood that it is not of their choice they worship their God, no he, or she chose them. All Gods or Goddesses have chosen one mortal to portray their beliefs, and to gather disciples to preach their words of peace and goodwill. And perhaps each one has its evil twin, and for the way things are happening in this modern world, I think it is the evil ones, the devil God’s that hold the reins. They have chosen mortals of their ilk, either insane, sadists, belligerents, or just egotistical maniacs all of whom will have things their, or what they think is their own way, little do they know who’s sitting on their left shoulder issuing the orders. Fear not those that follow the path of the righteousness for good will prevail, and all evil will fall back to the hell from whence it came.
Oh, the cross, a symbol of Christianity? No, back when, it was a structure designed to nail a human body too, for dissenting against the Roman Gods and Goddesses, even back then evil was in control. It became a symbol of Christianity after the crucifixion of Jesus, who actually claimed it to be I don’t know?
Am I a man of the cloth? No, am I a Christian, allegedly? What I am is a Samaritan, a good Samaritan, and my faith? I am 100% behind nature, not as a religion, for I pray for it, not too it! In many ways nature is tangible, at least certain aspects of it are, and what I take from it, I give back to it, when convenient, or caught out, (pun intended). I empathise with the needy, beg from the greedy, help protect the planet,
Anon………..
April 8, 2017
The Good Samaritan: Sponsored by: Craig Hawkins
A very dear man of the cloth used to sing a song most precious.
The song was entitled, 'Christ Is The Answer", and the line that
most spoke out to me was, 'Life is so uncertain. There are pitfalls
that get in your way'. Pitfalls getting in my way is the story of my life,
but the memory of that little song always reminds and gives me courage.
There is no avoidance of the pitfalls, but we do not have to fall into them.
I tell you, pitfalls are endless, but please allow me to list just a few of them.
Pride is a deadly poison lurking to destroy any who accepts or tolerates it.
Ignorance is often overwhelming, but many times it is a 'selective choice'.
Timidity wraps us up in a cold blanket, rendering love and warmth to none.
Fallacies are like ignorance, but exposure to knowledge and truth is liberating.
Assumptions put barriers, walls, fences, and partitions that create insecurities.
Lies, listed among 'The Ten Commandments' is among the first sins on earth.
Liars are friends to no one, and may they be avoided like a deadly plague.
Situation ethics changes like the wind, and must not be a part of our guide.
012821PS
Man of good intension, of love, honour,
though defied Roman emperor Claudius,
became a Martyr died without mourner,
yet over centuries became most glorious,
Roman army free of affection or love,
dedicated Fighting men was Claudius's law,
man of the cloth married lovers as he should,
Claudius beheaded him and that's for sure,
from priest to Saint this good man became,
lovers all over the world now celebrate,
fourteenth of February they did proclaim,
due to his death and his undesired fate
this most important day for you and mine,
thanks to wonderful acts of St Valentine.
2/13/2017
Contest sweet Valentine.
McGee and Finn where working again
performing some road repairs
Across from a place of constant disgrace
A den of sorted affairs
Soon comes by, a Jewish Rabbi
And after the coast seemed clear,
slips on in, to the house of sin
And all Finn could do was sneer
"Is nothing holy to a man of the cloth"
Said McGee while raising his spade
I won't be his judge, nor carry a grudge
But I'm sure he'll be measured and weigh
A little while after, there came an old Pastor
who lurked around the front door
Keeping and eye, if someone might spy
Him darting in the first floor
But McGee caught sight of this sinners delight
and looked to the heavens again
And said "These Protestants know nothing of God"
With his hand on his heart, agreed Finn
A short while later, both excavators, notice a Catholic Priest
He was looking around, to see no one was found
And both were surprised, said the least
When the Priest went on in, to that dark house of sin
Then McGee just started to cry,
With his hat in his hand, spoke to Finn once again
Proclaiming
"One of the girls must have died"
NO PELLEGREN DIDN'T SERVE WITH MY POP 1944 VICTORY LIBERATING ROME FROM 1942 TO 1946 DURING WW11 NOT CATRINA BELL.MCKISSACK VIOLENT OFFENDER FROM DETROIT NOR WERE THERE ANY MEXICAN VIOLENT OFFENDERS JAMAICAN IDENTITY THIEVES SADLY MEXICAN VIOLENT OFFENDERS HIRED TO BREAK INTO MY HOME SEARCHING FOR MY POP WW11 HONOR WOW HOW BLESSED I AM I SURVIVED THIS CONSPIRACY TO EXTORT WW11 VALOR MY POP SERVED WITH ANTHONY MARIO PUZO THEY MET YEARS LATER VEGAS 1968 HOLIDAY MAGAZINE FEATURED MARIETTA IN FEATHERS SADLY THE MAFIA SENT DEATH THREATS CRUEL. CRIMINAL INTENT A CONSPIRACY TO EXTORT MY POP WW11 HONOR TO FEED TO BITTER MAFIOSOS A CONSPIRACY THREATS OF MY NIDDA AZZ EMANCIPATED GRANDFATHER STANDING NEXT TO THE POPE MY POP PROTECTED POPE JOHN XX111 WE ARE FAMILY MY LIFE WAS THREATENED BY KILLERS DEALERS SENT TO IMPERSONATE ME BY THE DETROIT MAFIA STRANGE LANDS JAMAICAN MEXICAN VIOLENT FEMALES BREAKING INTO OUR HOME RIPPING PAGES FROM MY POP PLD BUS TICKETS TO MY AMERICAN POETRY THESE INTIMIDATING TERRORISTS THREATS TO PERPATRATE IDENTITY FRAUD AGAINST MY DECEASED L9VED ONES INCLUDING MY DAD BORN 1942 VIOLENT OFFENDERS DECIDED TO MURDER ME FOR MY POP WW11 IDENTITY IN ROME BECAUSE I SHARED A PHOTO WITH PETER GARGANO I BELIEVED HE WAS A GENTLE MAN HOLY MAN OF THE CLOTH A KNIGHT OF COLUMBUS INSTEAD HE GATHERED CATRINA BELL AND A FLEET OF FEMALE VIOLENT OFFENDER TO SLANDER MY FAMILY THE MAFIA JUST WASN'T HAPPY WITH MY POP PROTECTING THE POPE AND LIBERATING ROME TRULY SAD MY PRAYERS ARE WITH ALL OF THESE INDIVIDUALS IT IS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL BLESSING TO HAVE BEEN TOUCHED BY A SAINT I AM BLESSED
Gotta have another cigarette.
Oh I worked in a cigarette factory
Foreman was a bit of a dillbury
Me old mate “a man of the cloth”
He’d persecute endlessly
Joe would load up his van
The foreman would make him reload
Joe didn’t worry cos he was a man
The foreman he was a cane toad
Foreman was trying to teach me to sweep
Would you think there was something to learn?
This is how the moron earned his keep?
But the thoughts of vengeance burned!
I’d been away for a week helping my dad with the muster
The cattle were all in the yard, I returned to work, yes a Bronco buster.
You’re sacked he said you’ll work one more week
I said you will work it for sure!
started throwing large cigarette cartons at him
saying tape em up fat boy , to annoy
He said I’m in charge, I said no you’re not
I’m in charge of you my fat boy
Manager came out I give him a blast
The man of the cloth laughed with joy
So they went to the bank and got my weeks wage
That I didn’t work there anyhow
Foreman looked like a siezure from rage
So I blew him a kiss the old cow
Don Johnson
if i were a man of the cloth
and you were a lady divine beliefs
would we travel in sinful circles
in order to gain memories and stories
if i were a man of sharp dressed qualities
and you were a lady of formal taste
would we travel in casual areas
in order to gain memories and stories
if i had a strong yearning to spread your legs
and you had an urge fully milk me
would we travel to avenues of strong virtues
in order to gain memories and stories
if i was a fiend for snowflake supreme
and you were a user bold black mud
would we travel to cleaner communities
in order to gain memories and stories
if i were just another guy admiring you
and you were just another girl with a crush on me
would we travel to the dear diary flatlands of life
in order to savor flavors of chemistry and glory