Vicars Poems | Examples

Europe

The Problem of Europe.
 
Christianity is a rising mist I normally do not bother to
think of  I dislike all religions as ill omens told fairytales
demanding to be taken seriously.
 
The worship of Jesus could have been a friendly affair
bewildered vicars talking about peace and thanking
the ladies for the beautiful flowers.
 
Until one remembers the Bush and Blair two knights
who wedges war against Islam by invading Iraq and
fight a religion all good Christians and Hebrews detest.
 
So if you thought religious wars were of the past
you’re wrong the western occupiers of Palestine are
but a religious war. Israel is a European enclave.
 
In Europe, Islam is a strong, demanding alien force
that we must not give in to, but we must
respect their discipline, devotion, and morality.
 
Should the good people of Europe find I slam a better
and more fulfilling religion than our Christianity, it is
because our culture is spent and insipid.

Bus Stop

Two guys by a bus stop, and they have nowhere to go.

They begin merging plucks and ribbits into a melting comfort.

Their destination is the Earth, and sedans honk at them.

Red stop sign becomes a resting place for a fellow cellist.

Fair lime crickets play along to the weeds, if just for this one moment.

And the taste of copper and paper is thrown at them in antipathy.

They are not homeless if the meadow’s honey is their home.

Yellow plaid is unlikely to grow here, it is foreign, says the guttle.

Different hues of blue in their familiar magical background.

No mortal whistle in the gale ought to be uttered during the tree’s ballet.

One hurricane lantern is shared between deities, or humans, or leaves,

And you can barely make out the vicars of string and bloodline.

Powder white porcelain glares at the back of their senseless heads,

Resting on a moss bed wearing a dress fly-fish dip in and a bear died for.

With a face made of zig-zags, one of them eats their mom’s snack,

The other swims with a black dog in gin bottles and stolen mint.

What a paradox, cried the wolves; they soon bellowed along.

In the Light of Peace and Love

Love makes the lonely heart sing,
for it would rather die!
Like a bell that's lost its ring,
or a forgotten one's sigh!

The heart needs someone to care,
Who knows of its sorrow.
For nothing else can compare,
no joy that you can borrow!  

The vicars for the masses,
fear the new enlightened ones.
Watch as time slowly passes,
spinning with planets and suns!

The robed ones carry crosses,
that on them heavily weigh.
They count up all their losses,
and then jump into the fray! 

Remember all the factors,
The fateful flight of the dove.
When we become the actors,
in the light of peace and love!

When She Stole My Thong It Went Very Wrong - Bawdy

My auntie wears 'Bridget Jones' knickers
But last week at tea at the vicars
She’d purloined MY lace thong
It was morally wrong
T’was the cause of very loud snickers

My thong’s wedged between her butt crack
Stuck firmly between front and back
But it’s not a surprise
As it’s not in her size
There’s no room to cut any slack

Aunt waddles around like a duck
Like a chicken she begins to cluck
‘Yes I took her G-string
Get me out of this thing’
Stop gawping, help me get unstuck

The Vicar say’s I’ll get my pliers
On reflection it’s what this requires
The vicar doesn’t shirk
As he gets down to work
But after an hour he tires

My auntie’s visage is not pale
(Her embarrassment is off the scale)
When my G string gets cut
It pings clean off her butt
It’s a shame she’s the tush of a whale!

For a ‘sweet’ friend BB xx

07/22/21

Pant a Loon

What women stuff in their knickers
Would scare the Hell out of vicars
But girls must know
Win, Place, and Show
The Best of Blue Ribbon liquors

Paper 'Moon' Panties

The medic said put on these knickers
By golly they caused me loud snickers
Featuring a butt flap
They are truly mad cap
Not ‘cut out’ for tea at the Vicars!

Some people would term them ‘moon panties’
Their massive like those of my aunties
You may not want to spoon
When panties show a ‘moon’
These truly are not ladies scanties!

Inspired by my recent colonoscopy experience!

07/19/20

Church Ladies Choice

The Church ladies love tongue-tied vicars
Adept at removing their knickers
For many have found
That whetting the mound
Just beats the Hell out of bootlickers

Frilly Whites

The fancy dress theme was religious
Some went as tarts and some, vicars
Yvonne found romance
wearing men's underpants
With a vicar in frilly white knickers

Santa Suit

I don't believe in Santa Claus
The way that I once did
I know dad brings the presents
Cos I found where they were hid

Don't be silly said my mum
Santa's not your pop
I said I found a wig and beard
Made from an old string mop

I said if Daddy isn't Santa
Something else is true
If Daddy isn't Santa Claus
I guess it must be you

It seems you've grown up she said
And should now know the truth
That daddy sneaks in through the door
No reindeer on the roof

I told her she should worry more
About dad's fancy dress
I'm really not too sure it's me
he's trying to impress

I told her that when she's at work
And dad thinks I'm in bed
He often dresses strangely
With the mop upon his head

She said he likes to practice
In his Santa Claus attire
After all she said it's why
We hang a stocking by the fire

She said he wants his Santa act
As good as it can be
I should be proud because
He does his Santa act for me

I said we all like parties, Mum
Including fancy dress
But something I must tell you
Might cause you some distress

Cos people dress as Santa Claus
And sometimes even vicars
But I don't get why dad struts round
In your bra and knickers

Mischief

rain-clouds hide the sun - -
vicars splash the pope and run
on to kiss a nun

written 16th September for Nina's Mischief contest 
rhyming haiku

Violette Contest - Odd Thoughts

hear the happy skittle 
knows he isn't brittle
laughs at flying spittal 
from the vicars

see the sullen dancer
living fearing cancer
seldom wants an answer
always bickers

smell the Christmas fairy
legs and arms so hairy
makes me rather wary
nostril pickers

man who's always smiling
messing up the tiling
says he's done the filing
wearing knickers

thinks he's Jack the Ripper
breaks another zipper
eats a mouldy kipper
pounding tickers

LOL, pure nonsense but wanted to try this interesting form

written 31st March
for Mick's Violette contest

A Threatening Hand

Everyone listened, but nobody talked,
  as the Vicar rode on by

His horse an old swayback, loaded with bibles
  stove hat pointing up toward the sky

Everyone listened, but nobody smiled,
  as the Vicar stormed and raged

“To hell in an instant, to hell you’re all going,”
   bony fingers turning the page

Monday till Saturday they spread their delight
  catch-as-catch-can, then again

But Sunday morning to awaken in fright
 —and face the Vicars threatening hand

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

Five Fabulous Fun Footles For Contest

What the Loo Cleaner Saw:

vicars' 
knickers

hippo's 
nipples

bidders' 
skidders

hatters' 
splatters

farters' 
garters

written 22nd October for Jan's Footles contest

An Angel Looks Down

And the cemetery was a  picture of serenity
A heavenly place your descendants resting place. 
An angel with a broken wing stared down reverentially
on lost generations and delivers her final grace 
Gods acre, where a lake of tears as been shed
in remembrance of the dead.
it echo's with a vicars prayers and wailing relatives.
When dusk descends and souls rise, and bats fill the skies
you can feel the spirits wake, and the living are replaced
with ghostly apparitions of the dead 
 
comp entry 16052016

The Paper

A day in the life of the Evening News
Headline stories and various views
Robson Green, stole the vicars wife
I forgive him said the vicar, that's just life
An aeroplane, is hit by a drone
A girl is mugged for her mobile phone
Two 14 year old kids, armed with knife
Kill a husbands daughter and a husbands wife
Three teenagers, burn a school down
A sink hole opens, on the edge of town
Six people hurt in a taxi crash
The new red wonder boy is  Marcus Rash
Boy of ten died, at an Aldi store
Vinyl returns to the record shop door
Community garden trashed by teenage gang
Car explodes at airport, amid a massive bang
Loads of reporters, with loads to say
But its all old old news, on the next new day

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