Short Defrocked Poems
Short Defrocked Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Defrocked by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Defrocked by length and keyword.
Tom Turkey has been defrocked
Cleaned, basted and stuffed
Surrounded by pumpkin pie
Green bean casserole
Tart cranberry sauce
Come, Pilgrim,
Eat!
Sister Mary Margaret O'Malley
Worked the parish of Tin Pan Alley
The whole clergy was rocked
When the priest was defrocked
He got caught in her hidden valley
A man of cloth spent hours reading the Bible
of the book's thoughts he was minus a rival.
He knew chapter and verse,
was never heard to curse.
Alas, boredom defrocked his survival.
The oldest trade in historical times
In many places it still is a crime
Defrocked from their gowns
Some even took it lying down
It's the sad ladder of life some climb
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-11.php
Wings monger air.
A host of defrocked preachers
buckle and swag.
Mobs clique and crowd in clusters.
Grackles,
skip, jump, and plunder on.
The birds pilfer, promenade,
scrum, pluck,
lift off swearing
in an avian Yiddish.
Heaven is rocked
by their thimble-sized storms.
Inchcape
bitter irony in this verse,
inflict on self the inchcape curse,
when ralphy approached the rock,
without his mackintosh,
he'd cut the bell rope first,
later was defrocked,
and drowning did rehearse,
with foolishness he'd mockd,
ironic is the thirst...
with a pipe full of havelock,
immersed...
Don
Wood,
she gazed across to their titanium towers
from her granite perch across the wide
fair and wandering
what's
written for her;
and her ladder rungless,
jake's steps swallowed up,
feathers pouring through
like ripe red sack
from defrocked casks as
dusk starts dining
on the day:
night's spigot --
this delirious inkpot
tipped.
"Love you a lot."
Words never said with honest hands.
This devilish lip-service
conducted
by defrocked priests.
I will not love myself
until,
I find you in a hole
I also can jump into.
We will huddle together
listening for the
hot breath of hunting wolves,
not knowing it is we,
we who breathe so coarsely,
so loud,
so lost and feral.
The Pillars of humanity
felled by little boys tears
Irish clover
not so lucky for boys in white
defrocked
a new generation of holy men
the cycle of sodomy
sickens the soul
yet the masses
on their knees
sending child
like a lamb on the cross
blood droplets
religious tears glow
ah but the Irish clap
as Saint Patrick
condemns them to purgatory
wishing the evils ones
had been aborted