Saturday, June 9

Poetry? Let's make it a contest!



“Sometimes I'm not poetic enough to describe what it's like to be in the presence of the Holy Father," Bush said.

Oh THANK YOU Mr. President, for taking our "caption this photo" dullness and transforming it to a whole new level of excitement!

Write a poem, limerick, haiku, you name it, for the President and the Pope. No more than one hundred words, please. Post it in comments. The best one (I'm the judge) will win a "vituperative, foul-mouthed, blogger of the Left" button from my Cafepress Store. (The phrase is David Broder's, not mine, but if the label fits...)


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34 comments:

  1. And let me get the ball rolling:

    When the Preznit visited Rome,
    He thought that he should write a poem.
    We all rolled our eyes,
    It was such a surprise!
    He can't even speak English at home.

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  2. The pope holds his hands
    Like a dad with a toddler,
    "No touching, I said!"

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  3. Bush is such stupid dope
    He can't think of a rhyme for Pope.

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  4. When in Rome and away from Home
    The presnint feels weak and whimpy
    He visites the Pope and like a dope
    He introduces himself not as Chimpy

    "I know your name and your fame,"
    Said the head of the Holy See
    "I was a Hitler Youth, and now a poof
    So we have a lot in common you see."

    Without much fuss they started to discuss
    How to oppress women and gays
    When it comes to sin of whatever flavor is in
    The two could talk on for days.

    In came Pickles not meaning to be fickle
    And said it was time to go.
    Chimpy zipped up and said "Shut up
    "Ah'm the Decider, you're mah ho."

    Within the hour she called the Mayflower
    and booked her room for the night.
    She took her pills and the world stood still
    And she boarded Air Force one for the long flight.

    Regards,

    Tengrain

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  5. Anonymous3:19 PM

    With apologies to Gilbert and Sullivan's "Three Little Maids:"


    Two little ultracons are we

    Pert as misogynists can be

    Filled to the brim with Right Wing glee

    Mr and Mrs Organic George

    Two ultracons are we

    Everything is a source of fear

    Nobody's safe, with democracy near.

    Truth is the one thing we won't hear.

    Two little cons, all unwary

    Come from a right wing seminary

    Controlled by Karl Rove's tutelary

    Two little ultra cons are we

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  6. Anonymous3:21 PM

    Crap how do I edit a post !

    My name is now in the middle of the poem

    OG

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  7. Not to toot my own horn, but I recast a cinematic masterpiece for those two bozos. AND I had the foresight to do it before you arose this morning.

    Pffft!

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  8. There once was an ex-Nazi Pope,
    Who spent time holding hands with a dope.
    "Would you please end your war,
    And dump Halliburton's whore?"
    And Bushie just smirked and said, "Nope."

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  9. A haiku:

    Old Nazi Pope dude.

    I sure hope he don't slip me

    the tongue later on.

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  10. Drenched in the glow of an afternoon beer,
    Dear leader perceived that redemption was near.
    Until the next morning's dawn came to break,
    And he realized that he should have had a V-8.

    Decidering that he would not seize the day,
    He stole through the night down the Appian way.
    Seeking an audience with a man of the cloth,
    Whose own past was veiled in the shadow of loss.

    The Pope said to the chimp "We must find means to peace,
    So that all the death you have wrought will then cease".
    The chimp scratched his balls and thought of his mother,
    "That decision", he said, "I shall leave to another."

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  11. Why yes my son, I'm an ex-Nazi Pope ...
    but folks around the world think you're a dope!

    So let me share the secrets of my success ...
    Get yourself a hat, and always wear a dress!

    People will flock from far and wide ...
    to hang on your every word.

    That is, unless you keep telling them lies ...
    then they'll just think you're a turd.


    BAC

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  12. With apologies to Shel Silverstein:

    Said the Little Chimp, “Sometimes I say dumb things.”
    Said the Nazi Pope, “I do that too.”
    The Little Chimp whispered, “Me talk not good.”
    “I do that too,” laughed the old Nazi Pope.
    Said the Little Chimp, “I always lie.”
    The Nazi Pope nodded, “Und mich.”
    “But worst of all,” said the Chimp, “it seems
    Smart people don’t pay attention to me.”
    And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
    “Maybe we should discuss this with less clothes on.”

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  13. The Pope has now met with George Bush
    True to form, George did act like a tush
    At the rail they did stare
    Down at St. Peter's Square
    Benedict was so tempted to push!

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  14. "Young man, your hand is so soft
    That if all of my vestments I doffed
    You could prob'ly insert it
    And prob'ly not hurt it
    Unless, by poor timing I coughed!"

    "Holy Father, your kind invitation
    Leaves me horny, and filled with frustration.
    Though you have a fine ass
    I'm afraid I must pass
    'Cause I'm too busy fucking a nation!"

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  15. haiku’s are hard. my first try since 8th grade:

    what would jesus do
    were he not real as magoo
    fuck lady in shoe

    haiku’s are hard. my 2nd try since 8th grade:

    mohamed’s on run
    your old testament is a
    real estate deed, YO!

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  16. Let me get this right-said Bush to the Pope
    If I become a Catholic like you
    I can continue to act like a dope
    and go to confession like you do.

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  17. A stoned drunken frat boy he was
    Now a prez with a noblest cause
    When the Pope he did meet
    He took a look at his feet
    And yelled: Dorothy's red shoes out of Oz!

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  18. Anonymous10:33 AM

    Men of dignity
    Share their common values:
    "We both hate them fags"

    ReplyDelete
  19. G-Dub and Lil' Pope

    Well they call me G-Dub and that's a mutha fuckin' fact.
    Step t' me nigga and git ya cap peeled back.
    I'm bout t' go buck wild all up n this bitch.
    With my AK singin', a Clickety Clickety Clack!

    They call me Lil' Pope but it's tha King a Rome t' yous.
    G-Dub be murkin' bitch ass Muslims and I'm a ratta tat tat all up on them Jews.
    I be tha most dope ass Pope the world ever seen.
    Step t' me on the bricks bitch and get a taste of this Glock 17.

    We fo' real bitches and we ain't done yet.
    By the time we finish this whole mutha fuckin' world be our set.

    Sorry, I think Tupac channeled me for a minute. Hope I'm not too late.

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  20. My haiku;

    How this reminds me,
    Of the principal's office.
    When's daddy coming?

    My limerick;

    There once was a preznit named Bush
    Who knew not when shove came from push.
    'Will the guy in the mitre
    Be just like the Whitre
    House staffers who just kiss my tush?'

    ReplyDelete
  21. Not being much of a poet, I thought I'd go for a little haiku:

    Deciding who is
    the larger war criminal
    Pontiff or Dubya

    Mixter

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  22. Okay, MY Haiku:siobha

    The nice Nazi Pope
    and the village idiot
    play nice together.

    -- Tuckmac

    ReplyDelete
  23. Anonymous11:38 PM

    " Well, PretzetNutz and Judas Priest
    They were the best of friends
    So when ShrubPutz needed more 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, Chimpy my Boy,
    My loss will be your gain".

    Well, DecidererGuy, 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 Cheney'sPuppet
    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 POTUS with a smile
    "All right", said Judas Priest
    "I'll see you after a while".

    Well, Commanderer, he sat back down
    Feelin' low and mean
    When just then a passing stranger
    Burst upon the scene
    Saying, "Are you ChimpyBozo, the idiot
    Whose father is degreased ?
    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 Rove'sLad in fright
    "I do recall him very well
    In fact, he just left my sight"
    Yes, that's the one", said the stranger
    As quit as a mouse.
    "Well, my message is, he's down the road
    Stranded in a house".

    Well, FlightZoot he panicked
    He dropped ev'rythimg and ran
    Until he came up to the spot
    Where Judas Priest did stand
    "What kind of a 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, MishinComplish he trembled
    He soon lost all control
    Over ev'rything which he had made
    While the mission bells did toll
    He just stood there starring
    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 StaggerFutz
    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 carried him out in jest
    Except of course, the little neighbor boy
    Who carried him to rest
    And he just walked along alone
    Whit his guilt so well concealed
    And muttered underneath his breath
    "Nothing is revealed".
    Well, the moral of the story
    The moral of the 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 oil across the road."
    (apologies to Dylan)

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  24. You are not a real
    Christian, Papist. And neither
    are you warmonger.

    ReplyDelete
  25. Rise Aristocrats,
    Rise and be blessed.

    For it is you,
    that God loves the best.

    The commoners are quited,
    with TV and beer.

    Is their attention diverted,
    from the danger that is near?

    Will they finally act,
    or do they lack the tact?

    Comfy in their lay-z-boy,
    the world is our toy!

    To upset their routine,
    would be to act, obscene.

    So they bray like sheep,
    the loss of their freedoms,
    they do not weep.

    Religion and the Aristocracy,
    the worlds wealth do they reap!

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  26. I'm writing a haiku because I suck at poetry.

    It's confession time.
    The Pope shrieks! Sometimes there aren't
    enough "Hail Mary"s.

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  27. I was unsure of "aren't". I pronounce it as one syllable (stupid Southerner). I could see how it might be viewed as two. In that case, I would remove "The".

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  28. You're correct reasic. One syllable. And that haiku is actually pretty damn good.

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  29. Pope Benedict the X – V – I
    and Georgie Porgie Puddin’ & Pie
    Met up for tea the other day,
    And both of them had stuff to say.
    (Oh, to be a Cardinal on the wall.)

    His Holiness intones,

    “Georgie P!
    We very much should like to see
    You end your awful, messy war
    And do some more to help the poor!”
    (He ends with a beatific smile.)

    Then Georgie pipes up,

    “Hey looky here now, Mr. Pope!
    You must think I’m a big fat dope!
    The U.S. can not leave Iraq
    Until we’ve got our safety back!
    And, as for helping out the poor,
    Nobody wants to help them more
    So I’ve got an idea, see?
    We’ll make the POOR our Mili-ta-ry!”
    (Georgie points to his sweet-smart-pumpkin-head and smirky-winks.)

    (The Pope is not amused!)

    The Pope shoots forth an angry scowl
    From the depths of his Papal cowl
    And straightens to his tallest height,
    Then hollers this with all his might!
    (And oh! His voice booms, Wagner-style!)

    “The poor do not belong to thee!
    Nay! They belong to G-O-D
    And you would give them guns? You fool!
    Instead you should send them to school!
    Yes! Teach them to accept their lot,
    And not to want what they’ve not got…
    But arm them? What if things go sour?
    They might realize they’ve got some power!”

    (Each stares into the other’s eyes for a moment, then comprehension dawns! They fall into an embrace, weeping.)

    ~FIN~

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  30. I met a pontiff from an antique land
    Who said: Two crass and faithless men of stone
    fight in the desert. Near them on the sand,
    Half sunk, a tatter'd parchment lies, whose words
    And well-thought lines and creed of old command
    Tell that its sculptors well those passions read
    Which yet survive, despite my fascist throngs,
    The hands that mock'd them and the thieves that fed.
    And on the pedestal these words appear:
    "My name is Bush, fool of fools:
    Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
    Nothing beside remains: round the decay
    Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
    The lone and level sands stretch far away.

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  31. always interested11:15 PM

    There was a sound of emptiness, When foolish folk had vainly blessed, Their own perceived, Sweet happiness.

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  32. Herald, that's too fucking heavy. I bow down for fear of comprehending.

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  33. I really like heraldblog's "Ozymandias"-like take-off at Bush's expense.

    Mine is just a few lines, no rhyming:


    Bush's inner monologue:

    I hate meeting with this jake.
    The old kraut thinks he can
    look into my eyes and see an
    expense-accounted thief inside.
    Worse, he’s the only one
    who knows for sure
    my intel has never been
    broadcast out of heaven.

    ReplyDelete

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