Poems about Vatican



є 1102241

Britex Vatican backing

Three ante-chambers and then the bedroom, a valet rather than my wife sleeping in the same room as me... if this is a will to power, i'd rather see the Sunday menu of: a will to whatever's on offer, other than hereditary genetics... mind you, 20th century anti-hereditary genetics seemed like quite fun, all that eugenic stuff... i love the byproducts that came with that, weaklings to be sure, missing horse and engaged tractor, celeb culture and the next Raphael pickling a hammer-shark sidelined with Warhol's quote: knock knock - ah cheap, i know, but when wasn't sarcasm ever?

The famoud *will to power is a fable, there are too few words
In between will and power, since both are rather antonymous
In application, the argument -
The will to power is a state of anonymity
Rather than a dualism,
In Versailles Louis XIV questions himself
As both man and king, and the god appointed;
Instead of duality there's an anonymity,
A permanent height outreaching / out-qualifying
The jumper, all pampers and demure,
The mirror circus of poses that Louis XIV
Was compared to his brother
Gauging out an eye of a laughing man in
A role of a Kafka play the nobles thirsted for
And slyly forgot - there was once a prancing
Lady of France, who donned the title
As the king of France, but was overshadowed by
His cock-sucking brother; there are indeed
Arabia in the King to quench Africa,
But not enough to go further, with his philandering
Playboy boyishness to succumb to the womanising
Artefact with brotherly jest as with a woman's
Care for an up-kept boudoir... of matching stockings
And his matching socks: never mind the places
Cut first on the gauges of fear of the guillotine
With the eyes turning all Newtonian searching
For the next cake - the roles we keep are not the
Identities we express, keeping the militant
Populace ignorant and ourselves kept by
The labyrinth sexed-up, keeping one pronoun
A wall of denoted king and the rest
A scramble which, whoever, we wish to choose -
As ever, preferring a woman...
Well i preferred animals, how's that for an argument
From Sodom? oh wait, that's an argument from Eden...
Ooh choo choo the pick-up truck never picked up steam,
The democracy of nobles overtook the notion
Of king as the psychiatric, philosophical rigidity
Overtook the notion of ego...
Well, weeners and winners here and there,
Like salt and pepper... mm, push it! push it real
Good! wait a minute, i thought that aristocracy kept
Paris and subsequent Parisian a folded model ready for
Corruption with adequate vices?
When Communism came about the aristocracy was replaced
With intelligentsia - the urban version of what was once
Property owning now replaced with idea owning -
It all gets a bit murky here, i write with a more detached
Defacement in mind onto a head of a donkey to reveal
The saintly cranium, but never mind the joke,
There's still the papal yoke to keep us curbed, after all,
The best whores travel to home to sing: love live papa,
Love like papa.
It just got me thinking, this obscure cannibal of
Aristocracy could scare the king, no wonder the king
In chess is just an extension of pawns, while the queen
Is an extension of rook, knight, bishop -
Reductionist Darwinism uncovered more than
Darwinism per se, we were originally reduced to insects,
Revolving past that and encouraging us to exhibit
Mammalian tendencies made us into being unable to
Choose which monkey was worthwhile to have originated from;
But still the black widow, the mantis -
Female reductions took her beyond mammals,
Into pre-reptiles,
Male reductions took him into pure mammal,
We're both running treadmills now though,
We're both rodents, hamsters, ha ha, it's funny how
Equilibrium works, there's two opposites, both need
To be pacified, no trans-gender changes will actually
Objectify or personify, it'll just the other more even and the
Other mode off / left in / left out.
You never ask so much about art, you just say
The magic Sesame words of Ali-Baba 'i don't get it'
And it opens, but then you suddenly want poetry to read like
Chemistry, what a fucking oddity, and say the words
'i get it', but all that opens is a can of tuna, wooh!
What a fucking stink. imagine these words unlike what
You'd might use buying a pint of beer at a pub,
Grow up, you hit puberty with fifty shades of grey,
Bestsellers this century, the last, Don Quixote...
Believe me, these words will be around for not that long,
Soon ingested by what the already aristocracy isn't,
Modern aristocracy are mere inheritors, spongers,
They overslept the mark of complicated phonetic encoding
Being exhausted, hence the dissociation with politics,
The apathy of the former lusts for war -
Granny can write a tweet, but granny can't write an app. ,
Never mind if it's Buckingham Palace or
The French Riviera mansion... Party Harry gives less shit
Than the red squirrels when the grey Canadian squirrels
Were introduced, and the next Prince of Wales
Is wondering: did i really need to waste 20 minutes of my
Life watching Head & Shoulders' adverts?!


backing,  vatican.

Author: Mateuš Conrad
+0-
Date: 31/12/2019


є 1066799

Memories of the Vatican City

Romantic moonlight edges over the mighty cupola;
I stroll enchanted by the timeless beauty of St Peter's Square;
I casually enquire of a passing nun whether she would consider
Going down on me behind the marble columns.

After a brief but heated haggle over the price
(I hitherto thought nuns were generous sisters of mercy)
She gobbles me professionally but rather noisily
Causing me to leave a generous donation on her dental plate.

I hear a half-strangled cry of "Bejasus" from a passing Paddy priest
As he gives himself a quick one off the wrist
Into his already badly stained cassock
Before hurrying off to keep a hot date with a choirboy.


city,  memories,  vatican.

Author: Edna Sweetlove
+0-
Date: 29/11/2019

є 933140

Vatican Archives

When in Rome

No browsing is allowed to the public

50 miles of unreleased documents

The lies of Jehovah witness

Every story of every lost prophet

Curiosity of a Californian

Talk about blessed

Talk about blurred

I lost myself in ancient knowledge

I need to know if aliens exist

Only 24 with a 4 year old kid

Running around like lighting hits

My son will grow into God

Cause i will not let him fall for the nicktoon facade

They told me hip hop is dead

But

This is more like the Zombie apocalypse

Just woke up from a rapped up coffin

War and the churches involvement

Racks on racks full of top secrets plaques

Home of the brave

Home of the raves

What you know about spiritual warfare?

Plug your ears n blind your eyes

That psychological propaganda will make you lose your mind

Dont pay attention to the predictive program

They want the silence of the lambs

Your not a herd of ham

Your super humans

The time has come to save the planets

Let us stick together like working magnets...


archives,  vatican.

Author: Michael Villarreal
+0-
Date: 31/07/2019

є 673259

Vertigo in the vatican / guinness? only in a pint glass

. mono automaton
Q u a s i o m n i;
In­ to root of the crux
I will
Invoke,
A black cardinal,
That challenges
All self-righteous popes,
And all self-imposing
Popes;
Are my words not bread?
Are my words not wine?
Then who claims authority
Over the justification
Of the authenticity of
Recruiting people
Toward the position of "power"?
Who's if not the dead borthers
Feed your near cannibalistic mouths?
Who feeds the living,
When who feeds the living,
Are dead?!
Necrophilia; rampant!!!
Cry... asylum! asylum!
Who's over-reacting?
Some irish will tell ye'...
I hate the irish...
I have a fetish for hating them;
Esp. those
Settled in england;
Those fuckers i hate the most;
Why?
I was wearing a german army
Shirt in an irish pub, and
What did the bartender say?
I can't serve you.
You engaged in the second
World war, paddy?!
Fucking potato harvester
Ginger-dangle-bell of
A hope... that never comes...
Just the drowning ginger ass
Who's abode was and will
Be the belfast dim-wit
Known as
The titanic;
Fuck me, i'm not even born &
Bred english and i already find
The irish worthy of considering
Genocidal tendencies...
Scots? fuck me, shoot me
To a pub for a whisk,
And some 'aggis neeps 'n' tatties...
The welsh?
What, the ultra-german spelling
Machine that's not even
Comparable to germans?
I'll just talk to charlie prince, y'all...
Rrrr... (i just had to make it obvious)...
The ear-ish?
I fucking hate the cunts...
And i'm not even english to begin with...
Some people you immediately get
To love...
Aussies, the finns...
And some people you
Immediately get to hate...
The irish, the germans;
It's a shame though,
I learned this pathos
From acquiring the english language...
I. e. "assimilating" into
The culture, p. s. the i. r. a. attacks,
So yeah, peedee pi dee p'oh,
And a paedo to ring
The bell for friday's mass...
F
Uck
Me,
Coming off the rocking chair,
Next you'll find me so much so
Assimilated that i'll be calling
It the irish and the northern monkeys...
Vs. the loondish
And the southern fairies /
Pansies;
I suppose if you're ever
Going to assimilate, hold to the local
Customs (when in rome,
Do as the romans do),
Fuck me, it's great,
At least i can finally realise that
There's no greater "racism" than in
The intra- realm, as oppossed to
The inter- realm...
Once again... it's not racism,
It's "racism"... or a way to get along;
S. j. w. b. g. l. t. q. t. + sycophant?
Drunk like a skunk... you walked
Into my bedroom, you'd get an aura
Of a brewery...
I can't believe i had
To learn english, and have to succumb
To outer-london prooper english
Stereotypes, that i was trying to avoid;
But at least the irish made it plainly
Obvious for me to establish,
Giving my transcendental approach
To diacritical marks, which made me sound
Posh english, and them,
My synthetically inherited enemy;
Which is nice, breaking away from
Hating the russians and the germans;
If i go to a pub?
I only drink guinness...
Why? it doesn't taste the same in a can
Or in an export bottle...
You need to drink guinness in a pint glass.


glass,  guinness,  pint,  vatican,  vertigo.

Author: Mateuš Conrad
+0-
Date: 07/12/2018


є 299720

Vatican IV

Ain't it true that a woman is a temple?
That you cleanse yourself of excess pride before you enter,
Bring soft hands around her marble walls, and
Have David's fervent faith when you sip from her chalice?

Be silent inside her; or sing that your eyes have seen her glory.
Tiny cracks in her exterior are borne from time, like anything constructed: but she stands,
Due to underground foundations and nations Peter birthed.

With Thomas' trembling fingers you waver before embracing her,
Now your water hath been poured & blessed.
Leave her arms with your demons distracted, dizzy from her incense.

What a shame you hadn't converted before:
For when your woman's body is a temple, she ain't no false religion.


iv,  vatican.

Author: Samantha Adams
+0-
Date: 02/01/2018

є 257322

Vatican Blues

My mom came in and caught me
Playing with my bone
She said вАШmy God! oh Jesus!
Won't you leave that thing alone! '
I said вАШI'm sorry mother
But you really should have knocked.
Instead you barged right in here
And you caught me with my cock'.

She said вАШI guess I shouldn't have
Just walked right through the door
But honestly I had no clue
Of what you had in store
I think you need to find a girl
Who's pretty and refined
I think that if you keep this up
You're liable to go blind

I told her that was non-sense
An old religious lie
She said 'get dressed
And come with me
And Christ pull up your fly
I'm taking you to see the priest
He'll fix your problem quick'
I said 'it's him who taught me
How to fiddle with my prick'.

My mother gasped in horror
Then she boxed my little ears
She put me flat across her lap
And spanked my little rear
She said 'how dare you say
Such things about a man of God
I hope that when he sees you
That he doesn't spare the rod'.

I said 'I doubt that mother
And I think it is a sin
That all us little altar boys
Should take it on the chin
But either way it matters not
Whatever may transpire
For a man of God is never wrong
While a boy is just a liar'


blues,  vatican.

Author: Patrick McFarland
+0-
Date: 25/11/2017

є 130613

The Snark visits the Vatican

To the snark

To dark it was

To spark

To misty

To behave

To easy

To set fire

To a Vatican conclave

To easy for others

To choke on scented smoke

To easy for the Snark who was not ashamed

To shout in eager chorus another fool have they named

To wit he laughed and strode away

To Snark...Snark...Snark...Snark...Snark

To be sure this is the noise a Snark makes when he walks away

To be honest if you meet one you will know provided he walks away

To be sure he may stay and try and eat you...


vatican,  visits.

Author: Edgar Whitman Wilde
+0-
Date: 02/08/2017