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A Snow Scene
When I walked out this morning
There was dandruff everywhere,
Dandruff on the pathways,
Dandruff falling through the air,
Somebody huge was high up there
Combing and combing his shaggy hair! !
'Why don't you use some shampoo? ! ' I shouted.
No answer.
Then there was a roll of thunder
And I ran back indoors.
I didn't know why I was frightened
But I thought it was rather sinister:
SOMEBODY was definitely up there,
Combing and combing his shaggy hair! !
Later a chap with a yellow face came along
And tidied away the dandruff:
He was a warm and jovial person
And soon the snowdrops and daffodils were blooming.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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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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Silently She's Combing
Silently she's combing,
Combing her long hair
Silently and graciously,
With many a pretty air.
The sun is in the willow leaves
And on the dappled grass,
And still she's combing her long hair
Before the looking-glass.
I pray you, cease to comb out,
Comb out your long hair,
For I have heard of witchery
Under a pretty air,
That makes as one thing to the lover
Staying and going hence,
All fair, with many a pretty air
And many a negligence.
poem by James Joyce
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Basically, they had asked me if I would shave my head or wear a bald cap. I said look, if you are doing a series for five years I would want to shave my hair because I would go bald with all the gum and glue from the bald cap.
quote by Persis Khambatta
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Bald As My Boot (Fun Poem 79)
I woke up one morning
my hair all over the pillow
where my head should be.
I looked in the mirror
and was shocked at what confronted me.
My head was as bald as my boot.
My wife screamed, “We’ll have none of that! ”
She then started combing like mad
our poor old cat.
“I’m going to make you a toupee.”
Now whenever my hair gets wet
I start smelling like something
that popped out of a smelly old dustbin.
She never did say which end the hair came from,
the front or the rear.
I’ll leave you to guess that little bit of fun.
23 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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Leise Rieselt Der Schnee
Leise rieselt der schnee,
Still und starr liegt der see.
Winterlich glnzet der wald:
Freue dich, christkind kommt bald!
In den herzen ists warm;
Still schweigt kummer und harm.
Sorge des lebens verhallt:
Freue dich, christkind kommt bald.
Bald ist stille nacht.
Friede auf erden erwacht.
Horch nur, wie lieblich es schallt:
Freue dich, christkind kommt bald
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bald as the bare mountain tops are bald, with a baldness full of grandeur.
quote by Matthew Arnold
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You don't find me too bald, do you? Old, and bald, and with a belly?
quote by Julio Iglesias
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mermaid
Yet, there it as-
An image composed of droplets mustering into focus
Reversible. Itself of itself the watery isomer.
Idea given substance, however tenuous and fading-
Tail, head, tail, tail, head.
An ancient enigma, certainly not pretty
But in sum, bewitching.
Had it power over flesh, could it see me?
Only indirectly, I recalled, as in the water's mirror,
And I must desire it first.
'Choose', said the hologram, sternly, from its higher station.
It was as if a hand had suddenly cupped my head.
But what part of the mermaid was I?
The muscular tail that could knock a man clear
Across a quarterdeck, against the rail?
A treacherous tail with a fornix?
Dumbly pummeling the floorboards, waterborne no more,
Spectral hues revived with a bucket of sea-water
Sparkled like a Roman grotto?
Judgement recoiled from the notion.
No, I would not!
The sickening barnacles, sea worts, the loathesome remoras,
Flukes, raggedy, gummed with oily beads
Always needing combing, combing, combing-
I touched my...
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Ben apfelgarten
There was a certain gentleman, Ben Apfelgarten called,
Who lived way off in Germany a many years ago,
And he was very fortunate in being very bald
And so was very happy he was so.
He warbled all the day
Such songs as only they
Who are very, very circumspect and very happy may;
The people wondered why,
As the years went gliding by,
They never heard him once complain or even heave a sigh!
The women of the province fell in love with genial Ben,
Till (may be you can fancy it) the dickens was to pay
Among the callow students and the sober-minded men--
With the women-folk a-cuttin' up that way!
Why, they gave him turbans red
To adorn his hairless head,
And knitted jaunty nightcaps to protect him when abed!
In vain the rest demurred--
Not a single chiding word
Those ladies deigned to tolerate--remonstrance was absurd!
Things finally got into such a very dreadful way
That the others (oh, how artful) formed the politic design
To send him to the reichstag; so, one dull November day,
They elected him a member from the Rhine!
Then the other members said:
"Gott im Himmel! what a head!"
But they marvelled when his speeches they listened to or read;
And presently they cried:
"There must be heaps inside
Of the smooth and shiny cranium his constituents deride!"
Well, when at last he up 'nd died--long past his ninetieth year--
The strangest and the most lugubrious funeral he had,
For women came in multitudes to weep upon his bier--
The men all wond'ring why on earth the women had gone mad!
And this wonderment increased
Till the sympathetic priest
Inquired of those same ladies: "Why this fuss about deceased?"
Whereupon were they appalled,
For, as one, those women squalled:
"We doted on deceased for being bald--bald--bald!"
He was bald because his genius burnt that shock of hair away
Which, elsewise, clogs one's keenness and activity of mind;
And (barring present company, of course) I'm free to say
That, after all, it's intellect that captures womankind.
At any rate, since then
(With a precedent in Ben),
The women-folk have been in love with us bald-headed men!
poem by Eugene Field
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Cravat Or Turkey Neck
The visible signs of ageing
the bald head
I've been nearly bald
since my early
twenties
the Friar Tuck grey hair
the last remnant
of a great teenage
Elvis pompadour
the turkey neck
I could disguise
with a cravat
but that's not me.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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A Sliver Of Silver
A sliver of silver laying on the dunes of the beach
All of them gathered around it, the horsemen, the doctor and priest
When it's midnight glow sparkled into the air, a commotion began
The greed in their eyes as large as can be, they all crafted their own little plan
'LORD give me strength' the Priest would say everyday
He was a good fundamentalist persecuting the nonbelievers all day
He wanted the riches the silver provided
All to himself, completely undivided
The horsemen, on the other hand, was defiantly overeager
He wanted most of the silver, his quantity to equal meager
But the doctor was crafty and gave him bad meds
And the Priest condemned him while lying on his death bed
The doctor stabbed the priest, but had a good attorney
He convinced everyone he was innocent, even Uncle Ernie
He ran through the streets looking for all the riches
But he ran so fast he began to loose his britches
None of the men ended up with the sliver of silver
The morale of this story is not to chase power
If so, what you'll find is all your wine will turn sour
Chase after your dreams and let your hearts decide
How you will change the whole world wide
poem by Jonathan Ross
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Queen And Priest
When the nights come on
darkness breaks through
say, baby, what you're gonna' do.
Priest of the light
moving away
nothing at all can make him stay
Queen of the dark
is leaving her cage
she's on the way to turn the page
Sleeves all in black
red lips, real hot
she always gets what she wants.
No release for queen and priest,
no guilt no sacrifice
never ending black and white good old days and nights.
The hunter in space
hunting the days
no chance to win whatever way
A sight of relief
and with the morning rain
the day will give you shelter once again
Priest of the light
is ready to start
against the dark the same old fight
Call it the sun
lets call it the moon
the same old game we forgot to soon.
song performed by by Zed Yago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Astray
and times move so fast, and now there does not seem to be any
and once it felt that there was more than plenty
I do believe that something somewhere sent me
To you, astray, and the bald raging flame of your heart is making me stay.
and I admit, that I have spent some time in confusion
Not knowing what is or is not illusion
Riddled with myself and destruction
Astray, and the bald raging flame of your heart is making me stay.
and flux, we move, crawl across the sky like the weather
To think that she once thought that I was clever
But I was do or die not now or never
Astray, still the bald raging flame of your heart is making me stay.
song performed by by I Am Kloot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Scholars
BALD heads forgetful of their sins,
Old, learned, respectable bald heads
Edit and annotate the lines
That young men, tossing on their beds,
Rhymed out in love's despair
To flatter beauty's ignorant ear.
All shuffle there; all cough in ink;
All wear the carpet with their shoes;
All think what other people think;
All know the man their neighbour knows.
Lord, what would they say
Did their Catullus walk that way?
poem by William Butler Yeats
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One Good Reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Like a thief youve stolen
Like rain on a grave
Like a priest whos spoken
But failed to save
Now the air is empty
And the ground the same
Love has gone to be buried
Beside my name
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Why couldnt you have told me
About your liars kiss
I cant believe youd leave me
At a time like this
And the wind is howling
And its a dying dream
And my faith is silent
While my doubts scream
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have to say that I have no regrets about my decision to become a priest or about the major directions my ministry has taken me... I have been and am happy as a priest, and I have never been lonely... I could have used a bit more solitude.
quote by Andrew Greeley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The task of a priest, in some respects, may be different today, but the principles upon which Herbert built his life as a priest are of universal application.
quote by Arthur Middleton
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I trained to be a priest - started to. I went to seminary school when I was 11. I wanted to be a priest, but when they told me I could never have sex, not even on my birthday, I changed my mind.
quote by Johnny Vegas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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