Where there are monks and priests, there is adultery and beatings.
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Adultery at one’s wills
.
Proximity promotes adultery
But not necessarily.
Opportunities encourage adultery
But not necessarily.
Necessities warrant adultery
But not necessarily.
Baits contribute to adultery
But not necessarily.
Adultery is no more than a theft
Which will happen with one’s wills.
06.06.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Adultery at one’s wills.
Proximity promotes adultery
But not necessarily.
Opportunities encourage adultery
But not necessarily.
Necessities warrant adultery
But not necessarily.
Baits contribute to adultery
But not necessarily.
Adultery is no more than a theft
Which will happen with one’s wills.
06.06.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Self Bleeding Beatings
I will not and can't stand back...
To standby,
To see you in tears!
I wont!
Nor will I watch your head...
Going through the motions,
Over something that has been said!
By someone you don't know.
Or know us.
To keep you that upset.
If you,
Don't keep your ears on someone's lips...
You'll prove,
That you've freed yourself from pettiness...
And give the boot to excuses suffered.
Don't bluff.
Just do it.
We both could use the experience.
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Just because life seems extreme!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Even though you wanted your Rooster to rule.
With a stronger cock hold on the doodle-dee-doo!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Just because life seems extreme!
With an absence on the streets...
Of meaning.
I will not and can't stand back,
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
Nope!
No need to keep up with 'those' self bleeding beatings!
I will not and can't stand back,
Nope!
Just because life seems extreme!
With an absence on the streets...
Of meaning.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bypass monks with a big stride; have nothing to do with priests, except at Mass.
Give monks a wide berth, and as for priests just attend Mass.
Merit has no merit.
No scandal ends in adultery.
No adultery traces to scandal.
Meritorious companions meet
And fall apart before they unite.
Under indenture adultery succeeds.
08.11.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I Hear The Cry
i hear the cry....
oppression, enslavement,
beatings, torture, rapes,
and killings.
people of heart,
slaughtered like sheep.
monks self-immoliating,
crying out for justice,
and freedom,
for basic human dignity,
for basic human rights...
i hear the cry...
of Tibet on fire.
and am ashamed
to be part of a world
turned blind and deaf!
free Tibet!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Using Brooms With Sticks As Weapons
Priests and monks fighting amongst themselves,
In a sacred place...
To determine which ones are deserving of more space,
With a worshipping done to do of a savior?
Under one roof where their faith is aloof.
Those with the most creative of minds,
Would not find the time to make this up.
And the ones who claim to walk with 'holiness',
Are now reported to be using brooms with sticks as weapons.
When will the truth end all delusions of self righteousness?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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No fence to a mind
There are guards everywhere,
At home, in the yard, thoroughfare,
Working place, host’s premises,
To be against corporal adultery.
Not guardable is the adultery by mind.
To be virtuous in body
And to be libidinous in spirit
Is nothing but hypocritical.
05.12.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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From You Fall.
The two catholic priests sat
in the Breakfast Room
off the refectory
in the abbey.
They looked up
when you entered
then continued
their conversation
about Dante
and you poured
yourself a coffee
and a small bowl
of Cornflakes
with a little milk
and sugar.
You sat down
and sipped the coffee.
There were prints
of Michelangelo
on the walls
and a crucifix above
and between
the two doors
that led to the
refectory
where the monks ate
three times a day.
The priests conversed
but said nothing to you.
Their words were uttered
in posh well bred voices.
One said
Few believe in Hell these days
and even fewer in Paradise
and those that do
have vague ideas
gathered from odd books
you find on airport
bookshop shelves.
You listened half heartedly
as they talked.
You wanted to ask
about the place.
Wanted one of them
to hear confession.
Maybe one
to give absolution
and perhaps offer a solution.
You could hear
the footsteps of monks
in the other room
getting their breakfast
of bread and jam
and black French coffee.
One priest laughed.
You never heard the joke.
The other guffawed loudly
in a girlish voice.
And the woman was seen
leaving by the back door
semi dressed and in great distress
the priest continued
And Father Denton
was never the same.
Then they were silent
and stood and smiled
and went their way.
You sat alone in the room.
The Michelangelo prints
reflected the single bulb
hanging above the table.
The Crucified seemed
above it all.
You would find some other
to hear confession.
To give absolution
from your fall.
poem by Terry Collett
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Myanmar - Air of Freedom
shackled without chains
again the chants of monks
again the chants of monks
aung san looks over to the hazy horizon
for days when she would breathe the air of freedom
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Love is a loser
Secrecy and chance help adultery.
Mere romance is the withered blossom,
Notwithstanding the lovers’ liking.
Adultery in secrecy is unnoticed.
Mere love is a scandal published
17.02.2000, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Cross is for woman
the allegations run like these:
Princess Diana committed adultery.
Prince Charles was vilified.
President Clinton committed adultery.
Hillary Clinton was glorified.
Woman only must bear the Cross.
05.12.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Will She Fight For Her Right?
In an adultery, law punishes man
And lets off the woman, an abettee
For she was man's property.
We punish the thief and not the stolen.
Now woman is not a man's property.
She is an independent identity.
As she shares fame with man in joint ventures
She must share blame with man in adultery.
This is her right for which will she fight?
01.07.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Intolerance.
She benefits from the sun
When it is a day,
From the moon at night,
Or from stars in new moon day.
No adultery, no rivalry.
So does she, when she reacts
With a sun at home,
A moon in office or stars elsewhere.
Where is adultery?
Why should there be any intolerance.?
23.09.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Save the deer
Tigers are there; deer are there.
Tigers eat deer and deer exist.
Guilt is the tiger and adultery, the deer.
Adultery will not go extinct.
25.03.2000, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Maybe Female Priests
Priests can't have wives so the job attracted pedophile guys,
Using fancy colorful vestments as a form of disguise,
But new rules should change and require priests to have wives,
So that the Catholic Church might again thrive and survive.
Indeed these type of ideas might seem to be sacrilegious,
But there was a time when this was accepted as religious,
When holy priests all had wives and kids and this was the norm,
Until they decided to change everything and reform.
It's obvious that the church needs to reform again and soon,
Back to the twelfth-century system at the first opportune,
It's also obvious that this should have happened a long time ago,
But instead we all learned from the hierarchy, how to kowtow.
Because the widows of priests were dependent on the church,
This hidden factor does not appear in an Internet search,
But there's something very wrong now that needs to be put right,
Maybe female priests could help get us out of this blight.
poem by James Bredin
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Saints An Sinners
(coverdale/lord/moody/marsden/murray/paice)
Get ready for judgement day
An the final curtain call,
Dont lie when you testify
cos the good lord know youre all
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
When moses stood on the red sea shore
Laying the law on the line,
He said dont come knocking
On the pearly gates
If all you did was have a real good time
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
For what we are about to receive
May the lord make us truly thankful.
Saints an sinners
I stand guilty of a thousand crimes,
An I suffer temptation still,
Show me a man who wont give it to his woman
An Ill show you somebody who will
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
For what we are about to receive
May the lord make us truly thankful
Saints an sinners,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Get ready for judgement day
An the final curtain call,
Dont lie when you testify
cos the good lord know youre all
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
For what we are about to receive
May the lord make us truly thankful
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
Saints an sinners...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Proud
Be pride and poison for it,
Poor is the friar who took.
Pleasure is soon, sooner than ever,
When bones are picked by the vultures
Over our heads that speak of those ones that fly nearby.
Be proud and in the death of others be proud
Against a fountain of rifles and ammunition,
These are the guns we lift to our eyes and let vultures fly to die.
The monks are not in the vicinity, like hairy monks.
poem by Naveed Akram
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