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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yes, I was a parish priest for five years. I was a curate in a large working class parish in Bristol and the Vicar of a village in Kent.
quote by John Polkinghorne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father Ed
The day of his ordination his widowed mum's happiest day
To Sainthood she said my son is on his way
She raised him on her own when his dad of a heart attack died
Of her only offspring she took so much pride
At sixty eight he died in his sleep with his mum he now lay
At his funeral this morning his Parishioners for his soul did pray
He had been their Parish Priest for more than twenty years
And they did farewell him in sadness and tears
Of their Parish Priests the greatest of all
His sunday sermons on morals and chastity they will long recall
But the saddest one at the funeral was his housekeeper Kate
With head bowed as she sobbed she whispered I have lost my soul-mate
To me he was far more than Parish Priest Father Ed
He was my secret lover and he was damn good in bed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Love Making Inside The Comfort Room
we pretend
that this is the
church
that this is
the favorite
confessional
box of the
priest and
his favorite
concubine
we pretend
i am the parish
priest and you
are the wife
of the mayor
and now you
kneel before
me without
a lace
without
clothes
i preach
you
the
naked
truth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I just wanted to be an ordinary parish priest.
quote by Martin Scorsese
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doctor Luther's shoes do not fit every parish priest.
It is a poor parish where the priest has to ring his own bells.
Disrespect
A crafty cat crapped in the crypt.
A furtive feline felony,
it left its mark and then it skipped.
The parish priest proclaimed that he
had cause to curse the cunning cat
for sacrilege and blasphemy.
He double damned the dastard cat
that crept into the crypt and crapped.
The theocrat though that was that.
His saintly self-control had snapped.
The phantom feline failed to flee,
the moggy met with no mishap.
The crafty cat quite cleverly
decided it would demonstrate
that it could crap contentedly.
His contempt to communicate
to parish priests. Quite powerless
to declare excommunicate.
Unchristian cats who crap in crypts
or pagan pups, which pee in pews.
They are exempt from his prescript.
All animals act as they choose
they won’t refrain to please the priest
impervious to his abuse.
Such is the nature of the beast
who only do as they must do
. Priests do not matter in the least.
04 Jun.07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I wouldn't say the world is my parish, but my readers are my parish. And especially the readers that write to me. They're my parish. And it's a responsibility that I enjoy.
quote by Andrew Greeley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you have a priest that is pushing social justice, go find another parish. Go alert your bishop.
quote by Glenn Beck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Die
when i die, what shame can i have?
do not take the blame, neither all the shame
you may bury my body with dignity
a coffin made of mahogany
with a glass cover and white carnations
all over my body
there will be a make-up of my face
like i am a freshman of
a class A university,
but i pity you for that will be too expensive
to add the parish priest's fees
and the the food and prayers
plus the songs of the choir
and the cost of candles
not to count the wreath
and the drinks
oh, you will be buried in debt and you will have
all the hard earned years to pay,
so, take it easy, it is more for our advantage
that i will not die or you perhaps
but i have no shame
and i take no blame & grrr
i don't care about what people say
if you die
i will make you a coffin of coconut wood
sprinkle your body with flowers from the grass
that i can pick along the goat's paths
i can pray and sing myself
no one eats snacks and i will not invite the parish priest,
hire no choir or buy ready made wreaths
for i know and you know that these will be very expensive
and i have no money or if i have some
i will not spend a cent
for all these no-sense rituals
useless prayers and out-of-tune choirs
so we will take it easy now,
you can't take it? then fake it
let us live and just be ourselves
let us survive all these
or suffer those consequences.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Confessing Sins
when guilt is full
there comes a time when we think of
the possibility of confessing our sins,
the usual sins of omissions
more than our sins of commissions,
to a friend perhaps, but you doubt
for he has more sins than you have
and it might as well end
on the reverse, you the listening tree
and he the barking dog,
or perhaps to a religious group but
you shy away because of their number
and you might as well at the end be the
subject of their gossip
in town for a week or so,
and so you become a catholic again
on a Sunday before your parish priest
you kneel down and confess your sins,
and your dismay the priest says,
'
my son these are not sins anymore
under the new doctrines
with an ending, don't worry my boy
you'll do penance just the same
say three our fathers and three hail Mary's
and don't come back
your sins are the same as mine'
what comfort is this, when sins are confessed
to a person on the same misery and guilt as we are.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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GOD to myself
And as God loves me
(like the way He loves you,
one day, he comes near
me trying to explain
about myself, thinking
that i still lack
understanding)
but i ask him first
Will you please
explain yourself to me?
Perhaps by then
I can understand myself.
My parish priest says
i have committed
blasphemy
since then no matter
how i attentively listen
to the sea
and to the wind
and to the sky
in vain
i have never heard of Him
again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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‘holy Family Church House-warming, Perundurai, T.n.’
Excerpt from Dr John Celes’ Welcome Speech
(to be held on 05-02-2010)
The Shepherd comes to meet his flock,
And bless the church that’s newly built,
Wherein an older church had stood on rock –
A sacred ground of prayer for Catholics!
Let’s welcome him; let’s welcome him, ye sheep!
He brings with him his staff that protects us;
This is the time our hearts with joy must weep;
The anointing will give us greater bliss.
Let’s thank the Lord for giving us this house
Of prayer to worship the ‘King of kings’;
Let everyone take Jesus Christ as spouse,
And tread the road to heaven as earthlings.
The Church though small looks splendidly laid out;
It has been christened ‘Holy Family Church’;
Our parish is a small one without doubt,
Nevertheless, peeps in internet-search!
The flock is one led by our parish priest,
Father Claudius, a dynamic, young man!
Who works hard without mistakes in the least;
‘May God give him good health and long life-span! ’
Our heart-felt thanks to Bishop and all souls
Who gave the land for building the new Church;
Our hearty thanks to all who played new roles,
And doled the sums that can now help to preach.
God made it possible to build His house!
Let’s worship Him with masses, hymns and pray;
Let’s reach the world at the click of a mouse!
And preach the Word of God by night and day.
We thank You God for giving us this place,
And worship Jesus Christ, as a family;
Let sweat of foreheads reinforce this base,
And help to rear this provident LILY!
Dedicated to: The Most. Rev. Dr. Thomas Aquinas M.A., DCL.,
Bishop of Coimbatore diocese
Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius, the Parish priest and
All parishners of ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai, T.N., ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-11-2010
poem by John Celes
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I was the classic middle child in some ways, the one who could have been a priest in an alternate universe.
quote by Chiwetel Ejiofor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Confessional Poetry
there is no
big box where i
can hide my
face
there is no parish
priest who listens
there is hallway
of the old
spanish church
there are no sparrows
no owls
and no fanfare
no dogmas and
circulars
just me
my finger and my
keys
i am both listener
and spiritual adviser
i am both my
silence and chatter
i am the owl in this
night
the robin in the pews
of my mind
i am my own dogma
but still
no fanfare
nothing to circulate
for there is
no bragging about
the sins
of conceit
the omissions of
the good
the true and the
beautiful
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In The Middle
IN THE MIDDLE
In the middle of the unending darkness that stretches on beyond forever
In the middle of the vast nowhere whose name has no shadow and no space
In the middle of all the generations whose anonymous past will be complemented by their overextended futures,
In the middle of the mass of nameless mankind featureless
In the middle of all that is and ever has been
In the middle of what was and will be always forever not
In the middle
In one small moment whose end is unpredictable
While the light still shines on the green green world
And the love and joy in the faces and hearts we care for still breathe
In the middle of the moment before consciousness is lost forever
Somewhere nowhere who knows where how
In the middle of all we are and will never be now
In the now of this life
I write these lines for all of us
Passing dreams
Beautiful great souls
True human beings
Better than me and you
And only me and you
For all of us
In the middle
Before the lights go out
And the endless darkness
Is silence and breathlessness
And nothing whatever real
We can feel or be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Man In The Middle
Did you see that man in the limousine
With a pretty blond, he is fifty and the girls only seventeen
But she doesnt care, and she never will
If hes ninety-five she dont give a damn
Just as long as he pays the bill
Did you see that man with a fat cigar
He just left his lunch with a belly full of lobster and caviar
He can choose the wine from a vintage year
He can drink champagne in his limousine
While the rest of us drink a beer
cause hes the man in the middle, never second fiddle
Just like a spider in a cobweb
Hard as a hammer, not the kind of boss you double-cross
cause hes the man in the middle, knows the way to diddle
Hes never bothered by his conscience
Deals with the devil, cause he wants to be
Man in the middle, the middle, the middle
In the middle (in the middle, in the middle...)
But you see that man made a big mistake
Even though hes got all his servants and a mansion beside a lake
And the money too, all that he can spend
He can buy the most, nearly anything
But he cant buy an honest friend
cause hes the man in the middle, never second fiddle
Just like a spider in a cobweb
Hard as a hammer, not the kind of boss you double-cross
cause hes the man in the middle, knows the way to diddle
Hes never bothered by his conscience
Deals with the devil, cause he wants to be
Man in the middle, the middle, the middle
In the middle (in the middle, in the middle...)
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Middle Of Nowhere
(buddy kaye / bea verdi)
Where does our love lie?
In the middle of nowhere
Will it soon pass me by?
In the middle of nowhere
Baby, wont you tell me
What am I to do?
Im in the middle of nowhere
Getting nowhere with you
Mmm, where did my heart land?
In the middle of nowhere
Where are the dreams I planned?
In the middle of nowhere
Listen to me baby
Listen to my plea
Im in the middle of nowhere
And its worrying me
Over and over again
You tell me you need my love
If what you say is true
Why cant we be together?
Over and over you tell me
Im all that youre thinking of
Baby you know that I love you
But I cant wait forever
Where does our love lie?
In the middle of nowhere
How can you let it die?
In the middle of nowhere
Are you gonna leave me?
Leave my heart astray
Im in the middle of nowhere
Come and show me the way
Over and over again
You tell me you need my love
Baby you know that I love you
But I cant wait forever
Where does our love lie?
In the middle of nowhere
How can you let it die?
In the middle of nowhere
Are you gonna leave me
And leave my heart astray
Im in the middle of nowhere
Come and show me the way
Hey, where does out love lie?
Come on now
Where does our love lie?
Right slap in the middle of nowhere
Right slap in the middle of nowhere
Right slap in the middle of nowhere
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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