kirbeez lead off poem
(i cN't uhcount for line endingz)
THE BLOOD OF MARTYRS
Pray the hours loosen
in somersaults the fascination of combat,
pray gladiators versus
zebras & giraffes versus gladiators,
Christians fighting what?
werewolves . . .
pray the doves over stadiums.
br johnz 1st entree
mother theresa of calcutta was a character of recent mythology
she did not exist
except for in the mind of pathetic dreamers
nor did dorothy day exist
she was a myth unto herself
she was the product of
religious imagination
a distraction from the real
therese of lisieux - a figure created for a comic book series
some obscure french imagist
(or was that a symbolist) brought her
to life momentarily...she is little more than
a picture of rose petals dropping from heaven...she
and her pathetic little way...very very stupid
childish imagination stuff
hildegard - a fiction
catherine of genoa - mythic character -- a shrew
a wench a wild warrior of demented fiction
mother ann seton
mother cabrini
stock characters in a hollywood narrative
about ghosts in the modern day
lurking in the streets of an unlit nation
all of them anthropomorphic distortions
figments all of them
of deluded imaginations
all of them united in the role of loving a god
who does not exist
craig wrote this poem
What can I say
About Saint Genet?
I grew up thinking
That Abraham Lincoln
Was a model worthy
Of emulation, but he
Wasn't as smart
As John Paul Sartre.
gmz gem
Saints
ain't.
picklesworths' limerick
Pronounced juh
There once was a martyr named jh
Who lived east of South Dakota.
His lines were too long,
And he got the gong.
Kirby's imposed Sharia!!!
jh's second pathetic entry
2nd N tree
absurdities abound
at my expense
my whole being sighs
like a saint in a swoon
The Armor of Jesus by stu and well yeah duh jh
The arrows of Satan are many,
he'd put your soul in the grave.
But the armor of Jesus is certain,
it will not fail to save.
So armor yourself with Jesus
and open your heart to his grace.
Should Satan tempt then pierce it,
Christ's heart will take its place.
jh again
saints dally about in infinity
picklesworths' cosmic theological pun
(should be read out loud)
Increments
A saint.
A+ saint.
At sainthood?
Couldn'ta, woulda, should.
Not me yet.
Not yet.
Too hard
To be.
Number 2
In the Trinity
Does saint 4 me.
kirby'z satirical insult
to "what's good for the nation"
UNIVERSAL HEALTHCARE
Pangolins who want to be squirrels
No expense shall be spared on their surgery
Grief counselling for cougars
with Lyme Disease
All-Expenses paid trip to
Connecticut hospitals
Doctors dress as skeletons
Wagging fingers no-no on Fox
Elephant hearts in Africa
Flown in to talk to Dr. Phil
Poachers got my baby
The leaping mechanism of fleas repaired by shoe repairmen
Full employment by .gov
Worms shall do grief counselling
For the baby birds
Shocked at what they've eaten
Democrats shall raise a hullaballoo
As the Saints go marching in
As the Saints go marching in
Democrats shall redistribute
the sexes of hermaphroditic snails,
And squirrels shall be whales,
As the Saints go marching in.
(a la marianne moore)
found doctrine (stu)
The Church
is the congregation
of saints
in which
the Gospel is rightly taught
and
the Sacraments are rightly administered.
- philip melancthon
wbeeezz roaming curiosity of the day
Curious
That the team
Called by the name
Of Saints with a capital S
Hails from a city
Known for sin
Nawlins
It's like
Rome fielding
A team with a name
Like "The Mighty Lutherans"
Slight disconnect
Theological
Nope
Thursday, February 4, 2010
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8 comments:
This stuff moves. Truth
thrusts through but awkward
as fat aardvarks
stuck in door jamb
Each word is a tool
to pick up and use
All we have
are these fudgehammers
with which to repair spider's webs
are there really such things as fudgehammers
or
did you just make that up
Aren't real things just as made up
as imaginary ones?
i suppose
only
the real things take some doing
whilst the imagined things
just appear in the mind
ain't that the way it is
Well, no one voted, I think. And we might as well say this contest fizzled.
Thanks for congregating the poems. Saints were meant to die alone.
kirby
i vote for your poem
if no one else votes
then i declare you the winner
i can do that
can't i?
br johnz 1st entree
takes a very close second place
kirby if sally's vote counts and i think it does
even though she's a little erratic at times
i think her judgement is pretty sound
so that would mean you have two votes
as of noon today
that makes you the LS saint
and i'd like to support you in that
happy st valentines day dude
jh
Your stuff moves.
Actually, the lutheran-presbyterian sludge moves, in a slightly different manner, like an ice river, with hicks stranded in evangelical rowboats.
Rez ipza loquitur
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