The congregation is poor, the priest rings the bell himself.
Related quotes
For whom the bell tolls
Sunday church congregation
Now that rings a bell
haiku by Ken e Hall
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A Girl Named Fred
Once upon a time not many years ago
a girl named Fred fell in love with a boy named Fran.
Although the names seemed an odd combination
and could easily be confused by people who did not know
that Fred was a girl and Fran was a boy.
They made the perfect couple as everyone agreed
and when their wedding day arrived,
the priest who was standing in
did not know about the names
only that he was marrying a Fred to a Fran.
Turning to Fran he said,
Fred with you take this woman
to be your lawful wedded wife.
Excuse me Father, but I think that should be husband.
The priest looked up a bit dismayed, but just carried on.
Turning to Fred said Fran will you take this man
to be your lawful wedded husband.
Excuse me Father, but I think that should wife.
The priest’ eyes rolled around in his head
very dazed and confused.
The silent sniggers in the congregation began to grow louder
as peels of laughter not bells rang out within the church.
The poor priest was now in utter disarray
and after blessing the rings;
he handed them back the wrong way about.
Then the poor priest red faced said
to whomever I pronounce you man and wife.
Just to make things more riotous
someone switched the Wedding March
to Rock Around The Clock,
which sent the bride and groom bopping down the isle,
and the poor priest he had a nervous breakdown
saying he would never perform
a wedding ceremony again.
He would stick to funerals
as there was only one body involved
and they wouldn’t talk back to him.
poem by David Harris
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Serani
When it is cold,
The school bell rings;
When it is hot,
The church bell rings;
But when it is warm then,
I am able to meet Serani my lover.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Go Tell The Congregation
Here I am
There I was
Here I go
Just follow me
If it was
Then it can
And we know
How it will be
When it was
Just because
Yes you know
Its not a dream
Its just all
Cmon yall
Ill tell you
What I mean
When you want to lose your blues
Go tell the congregation
When theres nothing left that you can do
Go tell the congregation
When you want to tell the truth
Go tell the congregation
When the devils got a hold of you
Go tell the congregation
Dont look back
Stay on track
Its a fact
A lesson to me
Keep in stride
With your pride
Now you know
How strong you can be
Theres no time
Draw a line
Yes I know
That you can know me
Look alive
No surprise
Everybody wants to be free
Everything is everything
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If it came to saving the life of one priest or sacrificing the life of an entire congregation, the church would save the life of the priest. Which is backwards, of course.
quote by Rob Walton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Church Bell Rings Too Early
the church bell rings too early
the town's electrician
bald and ugly
poor and lonely
he was looking for his wife
who left with another man
taking with her
his only son
he could not eat breakfast
skipped his supper
and would not care for any lunch
and then the church bell tolled
for him
though not as early as he once did it
we shall always remember
grief, lament, the sound of the bell
too sonorous
to remember
lost affections, betrayal, death
and lack of
prayer.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dinner Bell
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
Experimental dog*
Salivating dog
Good dog
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
I dont want a pizza, I dont want a piece of (experimental dog)
Peanut brittle, I dont want a pear.
I dont want a bagel I dont want a bean I wouldnt like (salivating dog)
A bag of beef or a beer or a
Cup of chowder, corn, cake, or creamed cauliflower cause Im (good dog)
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Shoulder, bicep, elbow, arm
Forearm, thumb, wrist, knuckle, palm
Middle, pinky, index, ring
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
I dont know whether Id rather be having a bottle of vinegar (experimental dog)
I dont know whether Id rather be having an egg.
I dont know whether Id rather be having an order of bacon (salivating dog)
Or whether Id rather be having a basket of garlic bread.
I dont know whether Id rather be having some pie or (good dog)
Saving my appetite cause im
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things (Ive been leaving on)
So in the morning when the morning bird sings (the morning)
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket (on my)
til the dinner bell does the bell thing
Dinner bell dinner bell do the bell thing
Im waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
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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Martha
SEXTON! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
Her weary hands their labor cease;
Good night, poor Martha,-- sleep in peace!
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha 's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
For many a year has Martha said,
"I'm old and poor,-- would I were dead!"
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
She'll bring no more, by day or night,
Her basket full of linen white.
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
'Tis fitting she should lie below
A pure white sheet of drifted snow.
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
Sleep, Martha, sleep, to wake in light,
Where all the robes are stainless white.
Toll the bell!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Another Angel Gets Its Wings
(robert irving)
Theres an angel in us all
A little voice inside that answers every call
Theres a joyous sound resounding in your heart
A ray of hope that shines as bright as any star
Remember...
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
So show you care and share your light
And help an angel fly tonight
An act of kindness, a tender smile
These little blessings seem to make it all worth while
So try and do whats ringing true inside your heart
Remember...
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
So show you care and share your light
And help an angel fly tonight
(another angel) everybody sing
(another angel) its a wonderful life
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
Say you believe in what you are
Share the love thats ringing true inside your heart
Remember...
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
So show you care and share your light
And help an angel fly tonight
(another angel) everybody sing
(another angel) its a wonderful life
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
(another angel) everybody sing
(another angel) its a wonderful life
(another angel)
(another angel) its a wonderful life
(another angel)
(another angel)
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How I Wish The Bell Tolls For Me
for whom the bell tolls?
i ask that
it must toll for me,
but the bell never really
toll for me,
always, it tolls for someone else,
a friend for 15 years
a relative close to the family,
a baby newly born in town,
a man conscious of his health,
the non-smoker and non-drinker alike,
the successful politician,
the wife of an expatriate,
the rich gambler, oh, the bell tolls for all of them
and there were banquets and city lights
and eulogies
and expensive garments of the priest
i wish the bell tolls for me,
but who am i to really say?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Quasi Moto
(This is a favorite joke I've put to rhyme)
Quasi Moto was a legand
who became a man of fame.
This crippled man was known as
The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Quasi Moto's health was failing.
He was old and growing frail,
so they hired an apprentice
he would teach to ring the bell.
This poor apprentice fellow
really wasn't very bright,
but at least he was determined
he could learn to do it right.
They climbed up to the bell tower.
(A steep climb that isn't fun)
And finally reached the iron bell
for lesson number one.
Quasi told him, "Push the bell..
then step aside.. and let it go,
but the bell came back and struck him
because he was so slow.
It knocked him from the tower
and he landed in town square.
Quasi slowly limped down all the stairs
and found him lying there.
The townsfolk had all gathered.
Quasi pushed till he got through.
As he looked down a fellow asked..
"Quasi…is this a man you knew? "
Quasi looked at his apprentice
and slowly answered "Well……
I can't say I really knew him
but his face sure rings a bell."
poem by Ron Tranmer
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When the bell tolls
At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
I know that there
is more to life
than just living.
On a Sunday
the bell tolls almost endlessly,
(like a alarm clock)
before the service begins.
At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
it rings for a funeral
and I am glad
that I’m alive.
At a wedding
the bell sings a joyful song
and everyone smiles at each other
and wait for the bride to appear.
In the dead of night
the bell tolls lonely
no one cares about
the time that it keeps,
as sleep creeps deeper
into everybody’s soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Merry Christmas To All Husbands
During a certain Christmas service
Or Mass as some are wont to say
The officiating priest asked widows
To step forward for a special prayer
Of blessing and favour, intoning
That God remains their undying husband
A certain woman sitting beside her
Husband on one of the front pews
Jumped to her feet hurriedly
To the bewilderment of the poor man
Who promptly pulled her hand
And reminded her of what the priest said
But the enraged woman, looking askance,
Swiftly brushed her husband's hand aside
As though loaded with filth, and retorted,
'Are you alive when you can't provide
The needs of your family, even at a season like this? '
Stunned and speechless, the man's jaw dropped as though
He was a church mouse caught prancing on the pulpit
And the congregation roared in derisive laughter
But from me to all husbands, 'Merry Christmas
And a prosperous New Year in the name of
Our Lord, Jesus Christ, the head of all husbands
And, indeed, all men.Amen.'
(C) Chris Jibero. 2010.
poem by Chris Jibero
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The Farewell Bell
The peals of the funeral bell echo to the calm sky
For someone today 'tis a final goodbye
And on some future date whenever that be
A similar bell will be ringing for me.
Free of the cares of life and of worry and fear
The farewell bell for him or for her the deceased one doesn't hear
By it's slow drawn out tolls it's not hard for to tell
That for someone the ringer rings the farewell bell.
The same fate for you and for me and for all
To the scythe of the Reaper we eventually must fall
Yet on a sunlit wattle the magpie does sing
And he care not if for one the farewell bell ring.
A beautiful morning the magpie in song
With the farewell bell he is singing along
And white butterflies dancing a beautiful sight
Around the blossoming trees in the warm sunlight
poem by Francis Duggan
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Improvisations: Light And Snow: 03
The first bell is silver,
And breathing darkness I think only of the long scythe of time.
The second bell is crimson,
And I think of a holiday night, with rockets
Furrowing the sky with red, and a soft shatter of stars.
The third bell is saffron and slow,
And I behold a long sunset over the sea
With wall on wall of castled cloud and glittering balustrades.
The fourth bell is color of bronze,
I walk by a frozen lake in the dun light of dusk:
Muffled crackings run in the ice,
Trees creak, birds fly.
The fifth bell is cold clear azure,
Delicately tinged with green:
One golden star hangs melting in it,
And towards this, sleepily, I go.
The sixth bell is as if a pebble
Had been dropped into a deep sea far above me . . .
Rings of sound ebb slowly into the silence.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Ups 'n Downs
Like white ink on black paper
sometimes life seems turned around.
Like ice in summer, desiccated leaves in spring,
like fish swimming in the Gobi Desert,
like a bell that will not ring,
it’s disconcerting, I've found.
Like black ink on white paper
sometimes things seem straight ahead.
Like iced tea in summer, cherry buds in spring,
like fish catapulting in the thrusting whitewater,
like a bell that rings and rings-
then life’s a dancing thoroughbred.
poem by Sonny Rainshine
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The Bell Rings
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
Valentine's love song chimes unheard in the ears of the pained.
They walk in stuffy, dry lines behind the moving pyre.
Why are they afraid to cry? Tradition dictates
Happiness.
They are moving to
The next world.
But no one laughs and coincidentally
No one cries
As the slow snake of despair slithers silently to the side of the stream.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
Once a partnership expressed in words, now in emotion.
On this day we have opposites. The smoke rises from the bank
And every man has his head bowed. Every woman out of purile
RESPECT veils their face with mourning.
There
is
a
chain which is now broken.
There was love, there was a song,
Sung by the air, now full of smoke and flames,
Surged by the winds, now carrying her ashes
Now there is sadness and death.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
The lotus trees dip over the side of the river where we used
To meet. There are two spaces on the grass were we sat.
They are empty now. The petals float away, carrying your memories
As the smoke in the air.
The bell rings through its own shadow.
Death knoll. Death knoll.
Reverberates and simulates the grief of eternity.
poem by Alex Sigston
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The Bell that Rings at Midnight
The bell that rings at midnight makes us weep
and taints the tears that fall upon the page.
It mocks the lost ideas we fail to keep,
and clouds our dreams with caustic camouflage.
Enveloping and shrowding every shred
of forced imagination's courted word.
The writers drag their sorry ar$e to bed,
the search is now abandoned as absurd.
The pillow waits and greets them with regret,
no solace there, no respite from the fight.
Impossibly we chase the Poet's Debt,
the muse has turned her back on us in spite.
They're turning to their meds to help them sleep
The bell that rings at midnight makes us weep
poem by Hola Mentirosa
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When the playtime (recess) bell rings
When the playtime bell rings, it's time to cease fun,
when the playtime bell rings, it's time to grow up,
when the playtime bell rings, it's time to get serious.
When the factory whistle blows it's time to roll sleeves up,
when the factory whistle blows, it's time to pay bills
when the factory whistle blows, it's time to forego rebellious thought
When the church bells chime, it's time for commitment,
when the church bells chime, it's time to make plans
when the church bells chime, it's time to make compromise
When the death knoll tolls, it's time for regrets
when the death knoll tolls, it's time for rethinking
when the death knoll tolls, it's time for peace
poem by Jason Jackson
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