They do not want him in the village, he asks for the priest's house.
Related quotes
For our sins God has created three enemies for us: mice in the house, the fox in the mountains, and a priest in our village.
South American proverbs

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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Why Me?
When the hopes are hassled
And relationships are rattled
Naïveté asks, why me?
When wishes are whacked
And dreams are dashed
Naïveté asks, why me?
When fantasies are fettered
And blessings are battered
Naïveté asks, why me?
When desires are demolished
And ambitions are admonished
Naïveté asks, why me?
When temptations are traumatized
And passions are pulverized
Naïveté asks, why me?
Strangely,
Naïveté with influence
And naïveté with affluence
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with name
And naïveté with fame
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with health
And naïveté with wealth
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with fiefdom
And naïveté with wisdom
Never asks, why me?
Naïveté with beauty
And naïveté with booty
Never asks, why me?
poem by Hitesh Sheth

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I only go to mass when somebody asks me, but when I get in trouble I call for a priest.
quote by Broderick Crawford

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Playing in the praying church
Who loves playing in the house of God?
Am I a catholic?
No, I am a protestant
Am I a Baptist?
No, I am a Pentecostal
All praying in the house of God
Am I a priest?
No, I am a pastor
Am I a Bishop?
No, I am a prophet
Are they all praying in the house of God?
Where are you, oh God?
poem by Doris Dzameshie

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Transitions....
at first the house is one kind of a party
more friends are coming
you even let the mailman to have a drink
and stay for a while
though he has nothing to say just like
the masons and some carpenters
then the house was almost burned
there was so much panic that day
the whole village talked about it for weeks
of course, the house as usual is silent like
most rocks
to regain its solidity
it listens to the refreshes of the sea breeze
it resumes its pacific nature
facing the sea and learning from the past storms
then something so horrible happens
but no one in the house is telling about it
the pillars shook and some walls gave in
a part of the roof was taken by the hurricane
but the house is still in tact
changes come into play
the gates are closed
the mailman is having a hard time pressing the door bell
the mail box is broken
and some thieves are anticipating that someday
they can get in and make their presence felt
perhaps to take
what is essential
what they did not know is that
no one lives in this house anymore
all the memories are put into boxes and kept in the cellars
the house has become one mummified pharaoh
a pyramid that points to the sun
the village only talks about the built-in mysteries
it is one kind of a cadaver surrounded by flowers
whose heart has been removed a few days ago
and then the talk stops
and that was only when the last prayer was said.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Global Village
Global village
Though we are all human
we are made to be different
by forces beyond our clout
Yet they want remake us
in a new image of their choice
in a village too big to be safe
The world they now call
a single village in the globe
with a big brother to match
As long as we are second class
within that large village fashioned
we would be subjected to
someone’s standards
someone’s culture
someone’s technology
someone’s understanding
someone’s world view
someone’s theories and concepts
They try hard in harder ways
to make us part of that village
but we know we are different
and shall strive to leave outside
that fashioned unsafe village
poem by Yusuf Adamu

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My father said, 'Politics asks the question Is it expedient Vanity asks Is it popular But conscience asks Is it right'
quote by Dexter Scott King

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Cowardice asks: Is it safe? Expediency asks: Is it politic? But Conscience asks: Is it right?
quote by William Punshon

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Cowardice asks Is it safe Expediency asks Is it politic But Conscience asks Is it right
quote by William Punshon

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I Can't Say No
Here I am
There you are
If you ask me to walk a thousand miles just to be where you are,
I can? say no
If you ask me.
If I had a dime, it? yours as well as mine.
I? keep the penny, you know I would and gladly give you the nine.
I can? say no
If you ask me
Ooh, ooh, ooh,
If you told me tonight to get up
Pack my bags let? go away,
I wouldn? even care what my Mommy, what my Daddy might have to say.
?ause I can? say no
If you ask me .
Ooh, ooh no!
(You?e too beautiful to be. to be)
You know I can? say it, baby no!
(You mean everything to me)
No ifs and no maybe?
No!
(that? why I, that? why I, that? why I, that? why)
You know I can? say it baby,
I can? say no
If you ask me.
Ooh ooh ooh. Sometimes I get so angry with him
I walk around I pout all day.
And the he kisses me and asks me do I love him
In a sweet soft sexy kind of way,
I can? say no
If he asks me.
On No I can? say no if he asks me.
I can? so if he asks me
song performed by by Natalie Cole

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The Ballad Of Frankie Lee And Judas Priest
by Bob Dylan
Well, Frankie Lee and Judas Priest,
They were the best of friends.
So when Frankie Lee needed money one day,
Judas quickly pulled out a roll of tens
And placed them on a footstool
Just above the plotted plain,
Sayin', "Take your pick, Frankie Boy,
My loss will be your gain."
Well, Frankie Lee, he sat right down
And put his fingers to his chin,
But with the cold eyes of Judas on him,
His head began to spin.
"Would ya please not stare at me like that," he said,
"It's just my foolish pride,
But sometimes a man must be alone
And this is no place to hide."
Well, Judas, he just winked and said,
"All right, I'll leave you here,
But you'd better hurry up and choose
Which of those bills you want,
Before they all disappear."
"I'm gonna start my pickin' right now,
Just tell me where you'll be."
Judas pointed down the road
And said, "Eternity!"
"Eternity?" said Frankie Lee,
With a voice as cold as ice.
"That's right," said Judas Priest, "Eternity,
Though you might call it 'Paradise.'"
"I don't call it anything,"
Said Frankie Lee with a smile.
"All right," said Judas Priest,
"I'll see you after a while."
Well, Frankie Lee, he sat back down,
Feelin' low and mean,
When just then a passing stranger
Burst upon the scene,
Saying, "Are you Frankie Lee, the gambler,
Whose father is deceased?
Well, if you are,
There's a fellow callin' you down the road
And they say his name is Priest."
"Oh, yes, he is my friend,"
Said Frankie Lee in fright,
"I do recall him very well,
In fact, he just left my sight."
"Yes, that's the one," said the stranger,
As quiet as a mouse,
"Well, my message is, he's down the road,
Stranded in a house."
Well, Frankie Lee, he panicked,
He dropped ev'rything and ran
Until he came up to the spot
Where Judas Priest did stand.
"What kind of house is this," he said,
"Where I have come to roam?"
"It's not a house," said Judas Priest,
"It's not a house . . . it's a home."
Well, Frankie Lee, he trembled,
He soon lost all control
Over ev'rything which he had made
While the mission bells did toll.
He just stood there staring
At that big house as bright as any sun,
With four and twenty windows
And a woman's face in ev'ry one.
Well, up the stairs ran Frankie Lee
With a soulful, bounding leap,
And, foaming at the mouth,
He began to make his midnight creep.
For sixteen nights and days he raved,
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of Judas Priest,
Which is where he died of thirst.
No one tried to say a thing
When they took him out in jest,
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest.
And he just walked along, alone,
With his guilt so well concealed,
And muttered underneath his breath,
"Nothing is revealed."
Well, the moral of the story,
The moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin',
Help him with his load,
And don't go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road.
song performed by by Bob Dylan

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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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Ghostly House
You need language of ghosts
To communicate with spirits that impose on us.
You crave for the very food our ghosts need.
Come with the religion of yours to distract them.
For it pray and they will go away, for all eternity!
Your House is Haunted. Be so wary!
Even call the police, and they will never enter your home.
Your House is Haunted. It needs some policy to rid it of evil and despair.
You House needs some care. It requires the life to adjust. You must.
If ghosts are about then leave the house and complain.
Nobody listens except the Priest, and he is not around.
Go to the doctor, and feel doom in abundance. The ghosts do not win.
Good Luck!
poem by Naveed Akram

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The Ballad Of Frankie Lee & Judas Priest
Well, frankie lee and judas priest,
They were the best of friends.
So when frankie lee needed money one day,
Judas quickly pulled out a roll of tens
And placed them on a footstool
Just above the plotted plain,
Sayin, take your pick, frankie boy,
My loss will be your gain.
Well, frankie lee, he sat right down
And put his fingers to his chin,
But with the cold eyes of judas on him,
His head began to spin.
Would ya please not stare at me like that, he said,
Its just my foolish pride,
But sometimes a man must be alone
And this is no place to hide.
Well, judas, he just winked and said,
All right, Ill leave you here,
But youd better hurry up and choose
Which of those bills you want,
Before they all disappear.
Im gonna start my pickin right now,
Just tell me where youll be.
Judas pointed down the road
And said, eternity!
Eternity? said frankie lee,
With a voice as cold as ice.
Thats right, said judas priest, eternity,
Though you might call it paradise.
I dont call it anything,
Said frankie lee with a smile.
All right, said judas priest,
Ill see you after a while.
Well, frankie lee, he sat back down,
Feelin low and mean,
When just then a passing stranger
Burst upon the scene,
Saying, are you frankie lee, the gambler,
Whose father is deceased?
Well, if you are,
Theres a fellow callin you down the road
And they say his name is priest.
Oh, yes, he is my friend,
Said frankie lee in fright,
I do recall him very well,
In fact, he just left my sight.
Yes, thats the one, said the stranger,
As quiet as a mouse,
Well, my message is, hes down the road,
Stranded in a house.
Well, frankie lee, he panicked,
He dropped evrything and ran
Until he came up to the spot
Where judas priest did stand.
What kind of house is this, he said,
Where I have come to roam?
Its not a house, said judas priest,
Its not a house . . . its a home.
Well, frankie lee, he trembled,
He soon lost all control
Over evrything which he had made
While the mission bells did toll.
He just stood there staring
At that big house as bright as any sun,
With four and twenty windows
And a womans face in evry one.
Well, up the stairs ran frankie lee
With a soulful, bounding leap,
And, foaming at the mouth,
He began to make his midnight creep.
For sixteen nights and days he raved,
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of judas priest,
Which is where he died of thirst.
No one tried to say a thing
When they took him out in jest,
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest.
And he just walked along, alone,
With his guilt so well concealed,
And muttered underneath his breath,
Nothing is revealed.
Well, the moral of the story,
The moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin somethin,
Help him with his load,
And dont go mistaking paradise
For that home across the road.
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Whose Gifts In Gracious Flood
God, whose gifts in gracious flood
Unto all who seek are sent,
Only asks you to be good,
And is content.
So the world, when all things are
Sparkling, yet does nought ignite,
Only asks you to be fair,
And finds delight.
And my heart, in the sweet shade
Of two beauteous eyes steeped o'er,
Only asks if you be glad,
And nothing more.
poem by Victor Hugo

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Her own Life....
the middle aged woman
speaks about all the bad luck in her life
she is poor, her heart is broken
her husband is sick
her children all dumb
she has no house to live
she has no relatives to
help her
then she asks me
on what part of her life will she be grateful to God?
she does not know the word
about thanks
then the older woman asks her
to give back at 3 p.m. today the life that the Lord has given her
she realizes what she has which she has not given importance
she shakes her head, kneels on the ground and
said thanks to God....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Village Idiot
Did you see the lad, on the corner
He was standing drinking wine
Wears his overcoat in the summer
And short sleeves in the winter time
Takes his holidays, down at the bookies
Well he knows how to pick a horse
Village tramping round the countryside
He wears a smile, but he doesnt say much
Village idiot, hes complicated
Village idiot, simple mind
Village idiot, he does know something
But hes just not saying
Dont you know hes onto something
You can see it, you can see it in his eyes
Sometimes he looks so happy
As he goes strolling by
Oh village idiot, hes complicated
Village idiot, hes got a simple mind
Village idiot, must know something
But hes just not saying
Well you all know hes onto something
You can see it in his eyes
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by
Sometimes he looks so happy
When he goes walking by.
song performed by by Van Morrison

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Inspired by Issa - My Home Village
my home village
the virgin mary still stands
young as ever
my home village
old friends like me
away from home
my home village
old friends live in
new homes
inspired by
my home village-
the winter rain targets
a standing Buddha
-Issa,1816
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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The Houses
1898 -- A Song of the Dominions
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.
For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.
'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.
poem by Rudyard Kipling

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