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Array ( [sid] => 145087 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Jesus on Campus [time] => 2008-09-11 08:39:59 [hometext] => warning* - impious and irreverent [bodytext] => Apostolic,
I never saw him frolic
In the thicket with a miss,
Nor did he kiss
A someone named Judas – not even a Jude –
But crafted himself a prude.

He averted the obscene,
Turned his ears from phrases mean,
And in this neglect of slander,
He lost the fodder to philander –
Lost the reasons for which people arrive,
Something they call sex drive.

Here and there an arm’s length paramour
With garments to the floor –
Come and go. Now make an exit prompt
From this bed in which we never romped,
He might say to any accomplice;
Bent on being judicious.

Devouring words,
All around him bright birds
Strung high in their idealism,
He struck down on their prism;
For, when he imbibed the Bible,
Between the lines he read for libel.

In study, with his cap – an orb –
The parables he did absorb!
Great for his head – that antique –
Which eased the words to speak,
And resigned and growing sable
He read every day some fable.

I saw him “so-so,”
The torpor in his torso
Casting a despair.
He grew peculiar in his hair,
A premature grey streak
Over which he wore his antique,

Until one day, with arms that environed
The wanton, the bashful, those with ironed-
On words called tattoos
And even on the younger Jews,
In his loose robe he hugged
So loose he might have shrugged.

An objective:
To give out alms, to give
Coins to the mouths of saxophones –
And to neutralize pheromones.
To cure venereal diseases –
Without blandishing thank you’s and please’s.

He could eye the cake
In solitary work and slake
His thirst. He could divvy
Out the portions to himself, privy
To the prosaic slice, without the frou-frou
Eating it too.

And never thought to embrace
Some fresh face,
But drove in a welt
From that spiky belt,
Outmoded,
Whose notches voted

Against a more-than-peer.
Instead he taught how to tred on beer –
To keg-stand, feet on the ceiling,
A new doctrine of healing,
And he obtained wine for the minors
In bulky wooden barrels, their diviners

Crass lightning bolts...
All for these young adults!
And formulated the elixir
To warm many a mixer –
A rocker in his forced December,
An avid band member.

His Disciples rallied,
Yet still, his days untallied,
He rhymed out in the courtyard,
A bachelor, a bard,
But that was on the campus –
When I last saw Jesus.
[comments] => 0 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 7 [informant] => screwge [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )

Jesus on Campus

Contributed by screwge on Thursday, 11th September 2008 @ 08:39:59 AM in AEST
Topic: HumorPoetry

Apostolic,
I never saw him frolic
In the thicket with a miss,
Nor did he kiss
A someone named Judas – not even a Jude –
But crafted himself a prude.

He averted the obscene,
Turned his ears from phrases mean,
And in this neglect of slander,
He lost the fodder to philander –
Lost the reasons for which people arrive,
Something they call sex drive.

Here and there an arm’s length paramour
With garments to the floor –
Come and go. Now make an exit prompt
From this bed in which we never romped,
He might say to any accomplice;
Bent on being judicious.

Devouring words,
All around him bright birds
Strung high in their idealism,
He struck down on their prism;
For, when he imbibed the Bible,
Between the lines he read for libel.

In study, with his cap – an orb –
The parables he did absorb!
Great for his head – that antique –
Which eased the words to speak,
And resigned and growing sable
He read every day some fable.

I saw him “so-so,”
The torpor in his torso
Casting a despair.
He grew peculiar in his hair,
A premature grey streak
Over which he wore his antique,

Until one day, with arms that environed
The wanton, the bashful, those with ironed-
On words called tattoos
And even on the younger Jews,
In his loose robe he hugged
So loose he might have shrugged.

An objective:
To give out alms, to give
Coins to the mouths of saxophones –
And to neutralize pheromones.
To cure venereal diseases –
Without blandishing thank you’s and please’s.

He could eye the cake
In solitary work and slake
His thirst. He could divvy
Out the portions to himself, privy
To the prosaic slice, without the frou-frou
Eating it too.

And never thought to embrace
Some fresh face,
But drove in a welt
From that spiky belt,
Outmoded,
Whose notches voted

Against a more-than-peer.
Instead he taught how to tred on beer –
To keg-stand, feet on the ceiling,
A new doctrine of healing,
And he obtained wine for the minors
In bulky wooden barrels, their diviners

Crass lightning bolts...
All for these young adults!
And formulated the elixir
To warm many a mixer –
A rocker in his forced December,
An avid band member.

His Disciples rallied,
Yet still, his days untallied,
He rhymed out in the courtyard,
A bachelor, a bard,
But that was on the campus –
When I last saw Jesus.

Copyright Â© screwge ... [ 2008-09-11 08:39:59]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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