Capacious as the sleeve of a monk and patient as the priest with his arms across his chest.
Related quotes
Monks have both a capacious sleeve and a tight sleeve.
A ball had passed between my body and the right arm which supported him, cutting through the sleeve and passing through his chest from shoulder to shoulder. There was no more to be done for him and I left him to his rest. I have never mended that hole in my sleeve.
quote by Clara Barton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life of a Roman Catholic Priest
A priest is nearest Christ;
A priest is Christ at times;
A priest is almost Christ;
A priest is most divine.
A priest is God’s shepherd;
A priest must tend to flock;
A priest must be like ‘rock’;
A priest should ne’er defrock.
A priest communes with God;
A priest draws hope from Lord;
A priest shows love of Christ;
A priest carries His Cross!
A priest is tempted too;
A priest has falls in life;
A priest falters also;
A priest has strength from Christ.
A priestly job is tough;
A priest’s life can turn rough;
A priest has strife enough,
But has to smile and laugh!
A priest helps harvest souls;
A priest has many roles;
A priest has but one goal –
To drink from Christ’s own bowl!
Pray that more priests should come;
May priests curb their freedom;
May priest usher Kingdom;
A life for Christ’s welcome.
Fondly dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius,
Beloved Parish priest, ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-7-2010
poem by John Celes
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The gluttony of the monk and the appetite of the priest.
There is nary a feast or a party without a monk or a priest.
Basic life support
Basic life support consists
A number of life-saving techniques.
Patients with cardiac arrests,
Improves the survival rates.
As you will learn head-tilt,
Chin-lift and jaw thrust maneuvers;
Circulation, airway and breathing
Are very important things as well.
In case patient is unconscious,
Check his level of consciousness.
If there is no pulsation,
Start chest compressions.
Every minute is important.
So never stop,
Compressing the chest
Until blood reaches the brain
and has enough oxygen.
When pulses are back,
Circulation is alright.
Give two rescue breaths at first.
Then see the rise and fall
On patient's chest.
Just make sure,
Pulses are there.
When patient is awake
As he regains consciousness,
Explain what happened.
Monitor vital signs
Every five minutes.
When he can tolerate
As his vital signs are stable,
Advise doctor's consultation.
poem by Alon Calinao Dy
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Too many radiologists still believe there is a risk from a chest x-ray. Few radiologists can explain radiation to the patient in words the patient can understand.
quote by John Cameron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Fitting In Despite All Those Years
sometimes you envy
the monk in maroon peacefully
crossing the street
somewhere in Ho Chi Minh
or even an earthen bowl half-filled with water
with a jasmine flower floating
upon a very still world
you like to take the brush and some water colors
to paint all these
but it is a little crowded world you have there
there is simply no time for wasting
it's a fast paced lifestyle
the lifelessness of the to and fro
the unstoppable flow
trying to accomplish almost everything
without meaning.
somewhere in a dream
you wish you were the monk
or even
the jasmine
and then you hit your chest with your fist
convincing yourself that at a certain hour
you can be so foolish
still not fitting in despite all those years
'how can you be a beautiful jasmine in a concrete wall?
how can you be the monk in maroon in a public market full of
swindlers and screaming spice vendors? '
amidst the mess, in the middle of the crowd
how can you be a dream?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Really Happened
at 80
the monk who left the monastery in Utah
and who gave me a book about The Preacher's Daughter
always remembers names
like fr. Fabian
or fr. Lucas or
fr. Damian
when we arrive there
and i am patient as he is deaf
and
agonizing & he asks me to call and check if fr. Fabian is still there
he was there in 2000
and the year after fr. Fabian sent him a card
the cellphone rings and fr Bruno asks who am i
and i pretended to be
Ron, the old monk who is with me now
tracing his past
trying to look for fr. Fabian who died in Polomolok
and he wants to know the cause of death
fr Bruno says
nothing about asphyxiation but that is the lie that
i told Ron
and his face changed like an afternoon
and i can feel
that it was heavily raining
that is what happened
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Chest
Chest, what power do thou h've?
That women place their heads on
men's when they're showing love
Chest, what charm do thou have?
That women take virtue of thee to pray
for their siblings that sucked their breasts
Chest, what spirit do thee have?
That women curse men with thee that
otherwise, if man didn't meet them chest to chest
Chest, what glory do thou h've?
That people beat you with palm
and swear
Chest, of what important is you?
That women knock their heads on
men's chest during the fighting
No Bed For Beatle John
No bed for beatle john
Beatle, john lennon,
Lost his hospital bed yesterday, to a patient
It happened at queen charlottes hospital, london
Where john was keeping vigil in the room
Where his girlfriend yoko ono,
Is being kept under observation
When he realised his bed was needed for an urgent case,
John sent out for a sleeping bag,
And last night
He was once more happily kipped down, alongside yoko,
In the sleeping bag.
Yoko, who expects a baby next february
Will remain in the hospital for another few days
A beatles spokesman said
There is a good chance for the babys survival.
The beatles win battle of the nude lp
The beatles have won their fight to put
Out an lp record with a sleeve showing
John lennon and yoko ono in nude
Emi the worlds biggest recording company
Whose artists include the beatles
Refused to handle the lp called two virgins because of the sleeve.
So did the groups american outlet, capitol records
But the record with its controversial sleeve
Will be released in both countries next month
An official of the beatles apple company said last night
The sleeve has not yet been censored or altered in any way
Were pleased it has been distributed it may be that some record shops may still
Refuse to handle it.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Bed For Beatle John
No bed for beatle john
Beatle, john lennon,
Lost his hospital bed yesterday, to a patient
It happened at queen charlottes hospital, london
Where john was keeping vigil in the room
Where his girlfriend yoko ono,
Is being kept under observation
When he realised his bed was needed for an urgent case,
John sent out for a sleeping bag,
And last night
He was once more happily kipped down, alongside yoko,
In the sleeping bag.
Yoko, who expects a baby next february
Will remain in the hospital for another few days
A beatles spokesman said
There is a good chance for the babys survival.
The beatles win battle of the nude lp
The beatles have won their fight to put
Out an lp record with a sleeve showing
John lennon and yoko ono in nude
Emi the worlds biggest recording company
Whose artists include the beatles
Refused to handle the lp called two virgins because of the sleeve.
So did the groups american outlet, capitol records
But the record with its controversial sleeve
Will be released in both countries next month
An official of the beatles apple company said last night
The sleeve has not yet been censored or altered in any way
Were pleased it has been distributed it may be that some record shops may still
Refuse to handle it.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The first jazz pianist I heard was Thelonious Monk. My father was listening to an album of his called 'Monk's Dream' almost every day from the time I was born.
quote by Benny Green
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spank It
1-hey sped!
2-hey what?
1- what you wanna do?
2- I wanna spank!
1-spank what?
2- spank my little monk!!
1-to the left
2- to the right!
1&2- spank it up and down all night!
1- spank the monk!
2- spank, spank the monk!
1- spank the monk!
1&2- spank spank, the monk!
song performed by by Eagles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In a coffin
Hands folded over the chest
she lies forever stretched out
as if death out of the blue holds her calm
and nothing will wake her up,
from the last sleep folding coldly round her
and strangely changed from princess to rotting dirt.
Hands folded over the chest
she lies forever stretched out.
with no fingers clenching hot around mine
and drawing me nearer,
no arms embracing me to her body
and I am totally alone
and stare at hands folded over her chest.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Great Gambler
The Gambler stopped a monk
dwelling on spiritual plane,
And exclaimed, "Oh! monk
we both are exactly same
So I think we both of us
deserve equal name and fame.
Monk replied, "Gambler! I put
self not a pelf at stake,
And drink bitter poison
for God's sake
Only fool would say our
lives are same
For you a game is life
for me a life is game.''
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
27/12/2009
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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An Earthquake in the Chest
The demise of Mr. Wise came as no surprise
to the clerks in his department,
those weathered women who for years
had borne his scorn so well.
The story goes that Mr. Wise that day,
balancing his tray at lunch,
stepped lightly past
the puddings, pies and cakes
and pitched across his broth.
Two feet from the register, he dropped,
a humpback suddenly ashore.
Behind him in the line was Mrs. Burke,
who saw her boss's water break.
She knew right then
there was nothing she could do.
After all, as everyone could see,
an earthquake in the chest
had taken Mr. Wise.
And that is why she raised
both arms and cried,
"Forget the CPR! Someone
call a priest! " No other sound
was heard that afternoon.
Not one boo-hoo.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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Fuddy
On my room
To the floor bed...
I was tasted
With the
My girl friend
Chest bun...
Toung was play
Bun of chest...
Mouth wanted
Milk...
Not for the
Chest bun....
No weat
No sweet
No salt..
Not for the bun...
Meet taste
Vegtable taste
Also not ther;
Chest bun
Taste for
With big and
Beauty...! ! !
And fuddy
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Missal Makers
To visit the Escurial
We took a motor bus,
And there a guide mercurial
Took charge of us.
He showed us through room after room,
And talked hour after hour,
Of place, crypt and royal tomb,
Of pomp and power.
But in bewilderment of grace
What pleased me most of all
Were ancient missals proud in place
In stately hall.
A thousand tomes there were at least,
All luminously bright,
That each a score of years some priest
Had toiled to write.
Poor patient monk who brushed and penned
From rise to set of sun!
And when his book came to an end,
His life was done.
With heart of love to God above
For guidance he would pray,
And here behold his art of gold
Undimmed today.
And as our homeward way we took,
The thought occurred to me -
If scribes would only write one book,
How good 'twould be!
Or if our authors had to scroll
Their words on vellum fair,
Their output might be very small,
But oh how rare!
So writers of today take note,
If you your souls would save,
Let every line be one to quote
And to engrave.
Then though you dismally are dead,
You will be cheered to know
your precious prose may still be read
-Ten years or so.
poem by Robert William Service
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Day for you (3)
may the grey arms of the morn'
turn into life for a day
may silver meet you just there
where your chest is hollow bare
feeling like a ladder on a stair
sturdy ladder legs standing stronger
on the grey arms of early morning
silver legs staring seeing
seven doves' innocent love
in grey arms of the dawning