"bishops" poems
Beware if you don't want to get checked
I am a knightmare
A pawn when you step
My bishops are a big scare
Bishops are unsaintly
Slaying enemies daily
They sacrifice themselves for a higher cause
I'm playing out this game even though I get no applause
You're a novice when you play
I'm Sun Tzu at his best
That means my strategy can withstand the test
can subdue your mind
and in time you'll find
My thinking's not black or white
It's ornery
Never tip my king
Even if you corner me
The rooke is my home,
defense from those who prey on me
My queen is always loyal
Til the end she stays with me
Til the end she lays with me
My mate til mate
Your hand's reaching for the clock
but it's far too late
And so to end this rhyme let me slow the pace
And drop a heavy message in this empty space
Chess club is coming soon
You can learn to play
Room 285
Monday through Thursday
9th period!
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 9:34 PM UTC
*Black and White,
White goes first,
Black goes second,
Welcome to the game of Chess.
Knights,
Bishops,
Pawns,
Kings and Queens.
You have to think carefully,
You better not lose any of your pieces,
You have to beat you opponent,
Welcome to the Deadly Chess.*
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
a HOME credible THE BISHOP accusation ADMINISTRATION is PARISHES one MINISTRIES that, SCHOOLS after RESOURCES review SAFE ENVIRONMENT of EMPLOYEES reasonably CAREERS available, CONTACT US relevant MAKE A GIFT information BISHOP’S FAITH APPEAL in LOVE AND JUSTICE consultation AFRICAN AMERICAN MINISTRY with CATHOLIC CHARITIES the PLANNED GIVING Diocesan CHANCELLOR Review OFFICE OF CONSTRUCTION Board HISPANIC MINISTRY or CAMPUS MINISTRY other CRIMINAL JUSTICE MINISTRY professionals, STEWARDSHIP AND COMMUNICATIONS there YOUTH MINISTRY is FINANCIAL SERVICES reason MODERATOR OF THE CURIA to MAKE A GIFT TO THE CAPITAL CAMPAIGN believe SOCIAL MEDIA POLICY is FAMILY LIFE MINISTRY true VOCATIONS
The soup today is not what it could be;
We’d better search out the old recipe
Explanatory Note:
I fear the poem as written fails, which is my fault (perhaps I have lapsed into fuzziness from reading Leonard Cohen), so here is a bit of exposition:
The words in small print are a quote from the Bishops of Texas (long may they wave), generated by some in-house scrivener, about what constitutes a "credible accusation." "Credible accusation" is not a title in civil, criminal, or canon law, and it appears to be some sort of Article 58 (cf. Solzhenitsyn's The Gulag Archipelago), a means whereby anyone is guilty because he has been accused. It stinks.
Also stinky is the behavior of some few priests and religious.
Anyway, I pulled the quote from a diocesan web site, and scattered among it in LARGE TYPE categories from that site. I stirred 'em all up in a soup because the matter of paedophilia and the bishops' responses seem to be a soup, making it difficult for a "good simpleton" (cf A Canticle for Leibowitz) like me to understand.
May God have mercy on us all.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 4:20 PM UTC
The Mafia and the Pope
the Italian mafia wanted to take control
they wanted control of the church and all its wealth
the leader Anthony “The Boss” Gambatti sent his muscle
to secure an audience with the Pope
Johnny “the Eye” and his storm troopers
pushed by the guards
into the Pope's secretary's office
Arch Bishop Spinozza
sprung to his feet to confront the noise
Johnny “the Eye”, he got that name
after he lost his left eye in a knife fight
and replaced it with a glass oversized eye
that always looked straight ahead
a burning cigarette hanging from his lips
he got right in the Bishops face
“The Boss” wants a meeting with his Royalness
“and he wants it now”
the Bishop well aware of his visitors
and there violent ways
backing away from the smoke in his face
told Johnny that he would arrange a meeting
“tomorrow” he said “tomorrow”
Johnny cocked his head
so that his large fake eye was an inch from
the Bishops nose
flicked the ashes from his cigarette
on the shoes of the Bishop
turning to walk away
“tomorrow” he said
Anthony “The Boss”
dressed in his fine 5K Italian silk suit
leather gloves
black silk fedora
accompanied by his entourage'
walked into the Popes office the next day
he sat in a chair in front of the Pope's desk
“What can I do for you Anthony?” asked the Pope
the two had grown up as school mates
and had maintained a relationship
though not close
“Carlos, I think it is time we work out
a financial aggreement with each other”
“being that the church is known for giving,
I think it is time for you to give me some money,
a lot of money”
“I have many expenses to address”
“to insure that this happens”
I want you to make love to a woman”
“and if I refuse such a horrid task? quizzed the Pope
“I will begin removing all of your Bishops,
one every hour, from all over the world”
”and it won't be pretty” responded Anthony
The Pope, obviously shaken with the proposal
got up from his chair, his face in his hands
paced back and forth for a few minutes
“I will agree to your disgusting request
on three conditions” said the Pope.
“and what are those conditions?” asked Anthony
“1st this woman must be blind,
so that she cannot see who defiles her body”
“2nd this woman must be deaf,
so that she cannot hear any hint of who defiles her body”
“and 3rd your holiness?”
“3rd, this woman must have really really big ****
Gomer Lepoet...
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
She moves him ‘round the chess board,
dodging bishops, pawns and rooks.
She coaxes him from square to square
without a second look.
The white knight cannot catch him.
Piece by piece, the foe now yields.
Her king is safe; the game is done.
The queen controls the field.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 8:47 PM UTC
quantity
the numerical elements
lacking order
like chaos
in a sea of
red
so vivid and uniform
the parade of bishops look like
a stream of hot lava
pouring their way down
the mountainside to the pope
or perhaps
a bird
delivering its message on
wings so sharp, jagged
cutting through the blue sky
essential
its message
fundamental to the core
of the earth, of the heavens
without it,
nothing
Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 9:28 PM UTC
With different people come different skills,
in the game of life which we all play.
And like a game of chess , each piece,
unique in its own way.
To the smallest pawn to the greatest knight,
each piece reflects who we are inside.
But as one might think a disadvantage is at hand,
that the pawn has not any chance.
With the queen’s strong offense,
and the bishops swift attack,
the pawn’s presence is sadly overlooked.
For many see it as a worthless runt,
only used in the scheme of the king and ignored
until the bitter end.
But in fact the pawn is the most courageous of them all.
The only piece who knows how to charge.
Fearless and brave, it surges forward,
unhesitant and void of fear.
Who won’t retreat when defeat is near.
So who are you? Which one are you?
The decisive knight, the stubborn king,
the blunt rook, the potent queen?
The swift bishop or the valiant pawn?
All of which reflects who we are.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 12:08 PM UTC
I told you not to forget
but you did,
a letter resigned in a drawer,
a story left to grow dust
and words to vaporise
like they were never written
and meant one thing.
I liked our kaleidoscope moments,
candy-colours in triangles and circles,
melting stained glass
but you broke it,
dropped it on the floor or something
and we couldn't fix it,
those reds and greens and golds
a sprinkled memory
at the back of our brains.
So we used a spinning top
and watched it ****
upon the table,
round and round
but it slowed,
staggering
like a man intoxicated
and it fell from the wooziness,
too sick to go on.
So we played chess
even though I am mediocre at it
and I was white,
you were black,
the little kings, queens, bishops
forced forwards by our fingers
until they didn't want to play anymore,
back in the box please,
and you won, of course,
you won every game with ease.
Said we'd play again sometime
but you didn't remember
and I bought a new kaleidoscope too,
just for us to use
but you forgot didn't you,
it happened again.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
This game of life I'll explain it like chess
only the way she plays is with her own rule set
No King to start and she doesn't need one either
No Checkmate she still rules her board with authority no Rooks, no bishops she moves how she pleases
me I'm still sticking around like a pawn scheming
almost undetectable , unnoticed at times but I'm still trying to make it across proving to her
I CAN BE YOUR KING
if she allows it
still moving one step at a time in any direction I please
but I always keep in mind this is her playing field and that's the key
I'll keep taking out those in my way until I reach my final place
it's a well thought out game not to be played with emotion or distress
always calculated at my own pace every move I make I'll make sure it's to impress
Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 10:41 AM UTC
We can all spit on those tablets of stone,
the trinity's on hiatus,
the devil's alone,
School's out for training
it's raining hell fire and the bishops
are recording the antediluvian choir.
Noah's going to Goa,
A lot safer than here,
they say Indian beer's the best.
With his wood and an axe and
several packs of cool Cobra, he sails
into the wind and ends up in the Gobi.
On the edge of a rainbow
'jump Noah',
'don't go',
two people are shouting,
somebody's outing the sailor.
The choir got wrecked on microdot specks and
suspecting the worst, the bishops in Rome
all spit on the tablets hacked out from rough stone,
it was a quiet day in the Vatican, no miracles pronounced
in Perpignan, no Lady of Lourdes, no shroud of Turin,
only the blessing of Geneva dry gin.
Angels with harps all ****** as farts and
the devil sits alone.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
The world is my chessboard.
The people are my pawns.
Moved to acquire my needs.
Everyone is just a piece,
In this cruel game.
I play them as I should.
Moving slowly and carefully.
Making my way to the checkmate.
Everyone has a part to play.
Mother and father, the Queen and King.
Brother and Sister, Knights.
Teachers, Bishops.
Friends, Rooks.
All just apart of the game.
Even me, the ruler of it all.
Fate as my opponent.
Conquering all the pieces of the game.
That's all it is.
Just a game.
And I will win!
When it comes to the end
And all my pawns are played
The words will slip off of my tongue.
The words that end it all.
My final command.
Checkmate
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 4:23 AM UTC
Don't be my child, don't step on broken glasses
Don't be fooled by all of those sweet promises
I've been through a lot of regrets
Memories that I love to bury and simply forget
Treasure my child, my words of wisdom
I have a lot of story to tell when I enter the kings kingdom
Wounded by those pitiless pawns, knights and bishops
Terrorized by a rook and the queen killed all of my hopes
Listen well, don't act so stupid my innocent child
The world is full of jungle and really so wild
I was bitten by spiders, lions and snakes
To recall what I've been through still make my body shakes
My child, look at all my deep scars
Think thrice always, don't fully rush to reach the stars
Else you'll wished upon it to bring you back to where you start
Because you've led your life to a maze and welcome the dark
My dear sage, all your words are of true wisdom
But let me take my own course of freedom
I may feel the deepest sorrow like hell
But at the end like you I will have a great story to tell
written: October 8, 2014 at 10:45 pm PH time
Mysterious Aries
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
catholic
bishops
wear
their
priest
ritual
red robes
thus
gather
around
the
holy
cathedral
fountain
to
cleanse
their
red cardinal
wings
in holy water
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
On the left side of due diligence
by the lake that's called
impermanence,
is the one they call,
His Eminence,
and he stands
alone in ignorance.
The bishops look much finer with
their bibles bound in
China and feet soled in the
markets of God forsaken
foreign places.
Faces look towards him
and the penitent adore him.
but a score or more would take him
to the lake and then
desert him.
And on the cold fields of a calvary
where the saints survive,
it bothered me,
that the only thing that I could see
were the bishops in their finery.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 3:01 AM UTC
I am Miss Eluned Cyfeiliog the Warm
lonely in my life
my blue eyes look for distant mountains
where no choirs or trumpets sound
In Llwnypia I am oppressed by grief
At Mynnydd Du melancholy stalks me
I sought the bishops and the holy men
but winter is cold and the ocean grey
I loved the forests quiet glades
Pity the maiden who lingers in such courts
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 6:40 AM UTC
COME gather round me, Parnellites,
And praise our chosen man;
Stand upright on your legs awhile,
Stand upright while you can,
For soon we lie where he is laid,
And he is underground;
Come fill up all those glasses
And pass the bottle round.
And here's a cogent reason,
And I have many more,
He fought the might of England
And saved the Irish poor,
Whatever good a farmer's got
He brought it all to pass;
And here's another reason,
That parnell loved a lass.
And here's a final reason,
He was of such a kind
Every man that sings a song
Keeps Parnell in his mind.
For Parnell was a proud man,
No prouder trod the ground,
And a proud man's a lovely man,
So pass the bottle round.
The Bishops and the party
That tragic story made,
A husband that had sold hiS wife
And after that betrayed;
But stories that live longest
Are sung above the glass,
And Parnell loved his countrey
And parnell loved his lass.
1.6k
looking for forgiveness in the eyes of strangers
in every train station on the hudson line
breathing the beauty of the rush and hustle
of every train in the pouring rain
scribbling heartfelt worthy lines in a dogeared notebook
with her name etched with loving care into the
weatherbeaten cover
while standing at the top of the stairs
the faces shuffle past
offering absolution to the pawns
offering escapism to the bishops of twisted truths
gaze down the halls of forgiveness
looking for a familiar face to unleash your hearts burdens
to unwrap the tear stained words for
hoping like hell its somebody who could tell her
that you weren't so bad after all
if she only see her way to giving you that
holy grail of the heart known as a second chance
but in the end you catch a glimpse of your
reflection in some woman's poem
makes you look and see the state your in
see how far you have fallen
how far you've run from the light of day
carrying the weighty truths close to the heart
but never looking them in the eye
live again my friend
forgive yourself and live once again
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
You are hidden from view
You don’t see me
I don’t see you
This makes me nervous,
You see
I know what you have done
Through history
The wars you’ve caused
The blood you’ve shed
Down so many streets
Rolling heads
Armies and power
Rows of stones
Crosses and flowers
Court jesters
And child molesters
Clowning around
Bishops and criers
Lingering liars
Towers and trials
All of the arrogant
Baying and praying
For a male child
****** horsemen
Hunting with hounds
We no longer want you
Around
Sean Hunt May 5 2016
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
Let me introduce the royal players:
Everyone wants to corner the King
He may be Lord of the board
But he's the most powerless thing!
His lady has to defend her man
He's pretty much a sitting duck
And not one to take command!
The other pieces....what will be their fate?
They exist to save the wimpy monarch
All the wrong moves...Checkmate!
Manning the front row are the peons, the pawns
Lucky to make it across to promote their rank
Like helpless turtles, they inch forward on
The Bishops, like royal clergy in robes of red
Diagonal in direction, they stride and they glide
Moving this way..and that way...behind or ahead
Shapely horse heads, the gallant Knights
In L - shaped ways, they gallop in battle
Noble beasts who prove their might!
Set upon the four corners are the Rooks
Castles, they have straight-line tactics,
Advancing away from their nooks
Oh, the lovely, noble Queen, not forsaken!
She rules! Nearly limitless, so watch out!
Yet if not careful, even she can be taken!
If Her Majesty is captured...you've lost the very best!
You might as well admit your defeat
You, who play this game called Chess
Let the games begin!
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 6:04 PM UTC
Exiled for three hundred years
Without limbs, missing eyes, and unseen sins
The Church of Jesus Christ had been laid waste
Quietly living under the heavy boot of Roman Persecution
The bloodied Bride standing in Babylon waiting for her Groom
Hundreds of years prior, deep in the memory of the ancient past
Lay God Incarnate, dead in a tomb
Suffering for the sake of His very Bride
So too now does His wife lay dying
The Church being dismembered for His very sake
Three hundred years of darkness and exile
Separated from brothers and sisters by tyranny
Under duress and suffering inflicted by Rome
Until came an Emperor and a vacation home
To defeat the terror and end an exile
Constantine saw the Son of God and was granted victory in battle
Ushering in new peace and edicts to end the centuries of persecution
The Church of Jesus Christ was finally reunited and reconciled
For the Winter had passed, the night was over
The Spring had finally come, and the sun shone like the flaming tongues at Pentecost
Bishops and priests, pastors and deacons, fathers and sons; they descended upon Nicaea
Men with lost limbs and erased eyes, with restless wounds and sinister sins; they came
To reunite the Body of Christ, to define the Church for the life of the world
To remember what had been forgotten, and forget that ought which not be remembered
These men of God came to Nicaea to re-establish that from which they had previously departed
Confirming the core beliefs of the Body of Christ; the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth
The Lord Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, made man Incarnate from the Blessed ******
And in the Spirit of God, the Lord the giver of life
In one holy, catholic, and apostolic Church
Existent for the sake of the life of the world
Broken they came, united they left
Exiled they were, one Church they became
When our spiritual fathers came upon the little town of Nicaea
And remembered the Church they had long forgotten that they were
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 12:03 AM UTC
White Man! White Man!
You dare come and conquer this country?
This corner of the continent
Construct your castles with crystal windows
Looking out on a foaming sea
Model your marble walls, polished and pristine
On your porcelain teeth: terrible and tough
Paint clouds on the ceiling with paper fingers
Papyrus skin crumpling with age
Your knights galloped in on young geldings
Castrated to keep them clean
Like the sterile white cloths draped across their clavicles
You’d scar this landscape
With a squat whitewashed town
Matt and peeling
Dishevelled and overgrown
Black Man! Black Man!
You dare come and claim this country?
My corner of the continent
Behind boulders and barren hills
Coalfires choke the burned sky
I’m breathing in your smoke but at night
Your bullet-holes in the firmament glint
As stars glimpse the belching flame
Of your volcanic pride
Your bearded bishops bludgeoning
The bloodied populace of pockets of resistance
Scorched brown eyes smouldering
From here to the horizon
Of mournful ashen mountains, blunt and black
You’d build your walls of black onyx
Cold, hard and brutal
So let the battle-lines be drawn
Let us duel to the death until we mix
Into that emotional grey area between man and man:
Peace
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
This is a call to Arms
The time for action is now.
Our government is preparing for War
They're building walls and cutting ties
to conquer us they must divide
us from ourselves and from our world
This is a call to Arms
The time for Action is now
The board is set, and we, the Pawns, are all in our place, facing an enemy we are told to defeat,
though they appear to be identical to you and me.
This is a Call to Arms
The time for action is now
We must revolt
Lest we be sacrificed to Kings
To Queens, to Bishops
To the knights of the realm and the castles they call home.
This is a call to Arms
The time for action is now
We must band together to be heard
We will not be cannon fodder
For the frontlines of a culture War
This is a Call to Arms
The time for action is now.
Defeat looms ever closer
The Reckoning draws nigh
Will you stand and deliver
Or will you bow down and submit?
Will you face the coming adversity,
or brave the consequences
should you turn your back to it?
This is a call to arms
They've taken land and sea and air,
Poisoned them to **** us,
and then billed us for the repair.
The enemy surrounds us,
Threatening life and limb and freedom.
Demanding fealty and obedience.
Demanding tribute for the war chest,
And soldiers for the ranks,
Demanding that we pay the cost while they set price.
They want us broken, not just beaten
Only unconditional surrender will suffice
This is a call to Arms
The time for action is now
To chant the castles down
To fortify the streets
Against the tyranny and the hate,
Against powers of subjugation,
Against the evils of the world
now
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC