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You Stink!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
All I've ever wanted from you,
Was your trust.
Although my honesty shows,
Perhaps I trust too much.
Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '
Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
I get the message!
You have preferences.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The girl is more inviting who smells of wild thyme than she who smells of musk.
Your Quick Shift In Mood Smells
Yeah. Yeah,
I'd like to be there where you are.
Yeah. yeah,
But there is something about your demeanor.
I would like to see you as a shining star.
But your complaints keep you falling too quick.
When you open your mouth...
There is an expectation,
That comes with it!
Yeah. Yeah,
I'd like to be there to cheer you on.
Yeah. Yeah,
But from sunset till dawn that magic has gone.
Yeah. Yeah,
Your presentation needs a tweaking.
You have the image...
But your attitude reeks!
And this you believe keeps you unique.
All you need is a streak in your hair,
To skunk.
You don't have to stink to chase me away!
Your quick shift in mood smells.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Smells Like Rain
It smells like rain
filling the air
before the first drops break
in quiet splashes on the river.
It smells like rain
musty and fresh at once
warning the birds
to go home.
And the rain comes
water on water
cool rush of sound
quieting insects
teasing fish
drenching boaters
surprised by the storm.
It smells like rain
It sounds like rain
It looks like rain, now
I’ll go outside
and feel the rain.
Hell. I’ll be the rain.
poem by Robert Fort

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paddy Smell
Nostrils are the steps to soul.
Paddy farm, just reaped, smells.
Same old unique smells
Climb up the attic of soul.
Full soul shines in silver
Above the leaves tide.
Footfalls of cat eyed maid
With a pot on her shoulder.
On embankment in field,
Her anklet resonates.
Old untouched love beats,
Then my soul gets wild.
At dawn smelling paddy,
Old white skirt flutters
Below black blouse hers:
Truly soul smells paddy.
poem by Fabiyas M V

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Rose...
Roses smells like a flower
My baby Rose smells like love
Love that smells like roses
Roses are red but Rose
Is lavander...My favorite
Color purple....She already
Got me smelling like her
Lovely purple flowers
....I'm feeling like I'm a flower
Who has been taking cared of
And mentor by Rose....
poem by Joy O' Pateng

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rondeau
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
Leeks, and cabbage three days old,
Smoked meat, as hard and black as coal;
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold.
Twenty eating from one bowl,
A bitter drink -it's beer, I'm told-
Bad sleep on a straw in some filthy hole,
Fleas, stink, pigs, mold,
The gist of the Bohemian soul,
Bread and salted fish and cold.
poem by Eustache Deschamps

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The Grass Smells Red
The grass smells red.
Untill these mortal bounds find thier way into the catostrophic fire's of love and redemption, the grass will smell red.
The grass tells a story of wars unsung and battles lost.
The grass tells a story of love gained and a fury found again.
The grass smells red...but does it speak?
Does it's voice ring out like the bells in a steeple?
Does it feel the pain of those who died?
Did it hear the screams?
The grass smells red and it grow's red.
It feels red.
This grass will die red.
poem by Troy Nichols

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Lavender
while we are too busy
acting all tidy
flawless.
they drag along with them
the stink of a society
that has forgotten
what it is to stink.
they pick up
we dropp down.
hunching their backs to the dirt of culture
cleaning up after the remains
of our consumed pleasures.
we dropp down
they pick up.
they used to be merely grown men
that once towered
over gazes infant
until someone pointed to them
and we learned how to divide.
we dropp down
we dropp down.
yet every so often we will wonder;
soaked in lavender
scentless.
poem by Chris Jelens

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Smells Like
if your heart
smells like my feet,
then the time
is not in vain.
we lose years
in moments of burden...
painting stars
on a ceiling
sure to fall!
if my feet
smell like prayers,
then god should know
the way, and have the key.
if the door
smells like you...
then we'll both wait
outside in the rain!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Pile of Spit
These words plopping down onto the paper
Resemble a big, steaming pile of spit.
The pungent smells of the putrid vapors
Choke my nostrils in a great, gasping fit.
My eyes go blood-shot while seeing the stink.
My throat clenches, closing from the foul air.
My disgust rots at the way that I think.
My mind suffocates in a teary glare.
Then I flush the crap down the clogging drain
That contains my spiritual plumbing.
I try to remove the residual stains,
Plunging at the rank source of my dumbing,
But there's a blockage deep, seeping and thick.
This diarrhea makes my stomach sick.
Ok, it's not spit. And I know... this poem was made in poor taste.
poem by Tim Stensloff

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Reverend Girl
We are for today
We are for the moment
We are a crusade
But we are invalid
1 am rummaging
Stained my hands on her antique
2 am
Reverend girl
I am so indifferent
I am whatever
3 am cellophane
Suffocates my favorite things
4 am
The reverend girl
Seems that the more were achieving, the less chance of leaving this world
With a reverend girl
Another lover wakes me
Head upon a window pane
Before the thunder shook us
She could always smell the rain
A year is dissipating
Another hail cannot disdain
Never mind the thunder
Now my lover smells like
Now my lover smells like
Now my lover smells like rain
song performed by by Verve Pipe

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smells
I’ve lived with your
Smells…
all my life.
Now, life
Smells…
You in me.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee

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The Mariner
he violet scent is sacred
Like dreams of angels bright;
The hawthorn smells of passion
Told in a moonless night.
But the smell is in my nostrils,
Through blossoms red or gold,
Of my own green flower unfading,
A bitter smell and bold.
The lily smells of pardon,
The rose of mirth; but mine
Smells shrewd of death and honour,
And the doom of Adam's line.
The heavy scent of wine-shops
Floats as I pass them by,
But never a cup I quaff from,
And never a house have I.
Till dropped down forty fathoms,
I lie eternally;
And drink from God's own goblet
The green wine of the sea.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Every morning
You are faithful to your morning
Prayers and your habit of
Having coffee first
After waking up
So the room smells of coffee
Fumes wafting
Settling to
My nostrils
As I pretend sleeping
You complain somehow
That this room
No longer smells
The pungent
Odors
of lovers
Of our common
Sweat drying because
We have overslept
Because we are so exhausted
each one
unattended.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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The Bollmanator
You sit on your desk
Starring at us like a hawk looking for food
You snd us to lunch 10 minutes late
We come back and you room smells
Smells like rat urine
You give us tons of homework because of
Of your personal problems
You are the bollmister
You make us do bellwork
You always growl at my class
You can't wait but to yell at us for causing destruction to your calculators
You are the Bollmanator
Or the cause of my horrible life
You pick either one works
The Furrow
An old horse to the furrow - an old man to the plough -
For the young horse and the young lad, they're needed yonder now -
The horse, so young and mettled he scarce had known the rein,
That shook his feathered fetlocks and tossed his streaming mane -
The lad that used to drive him, so strong and straight and tall,
That dressed him fine with ribbons and groomed him in the stall.
Ah, there as here, old Captain, we know, both I and you,
He'll drive a straight furrow as he always used to do!
The clods before the ploughshare fall heavily apart,
But never a clod among them so heavy as my heart -
To smell the clean earth breaking and the kind country smells,
And think o' the stink and reek there, and the bursting o' the shells.
An old horse to the furrow - an old man to the plough -
And the young horse and the young lad . . . how fare they yonder now?
poem by Cicely Fox Smith

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A Little Soap & Water
Stink like a bear stuck on a tree trunk
Baby you smell like a nasty payment
Wishing you had soap you couldn't buy Old bread in your Ice box
Ted in your knee trunks
Girl your boyfriend got a stinky job
Better then smoking steaks on a grill
You missing new points smoking a bottle
Your woman is a woman that sleeps all night
Know she stinking off her panties
Co patties where you work
Dancing like you twerk
Nasty manager never taking baths
Plane air pollution smell a bird
Oil got my clothes stinking
Go home FizTzle take a bath
She smells you but she work in air conditional
Clean your clothes smell good
America stinks how about you
Smell pollution like I'm smoking
A Little Soap & Water.
poem by Tommy Laster

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Sonnet: The Old Well
The well that had given water to drink
For years and quenched the thirst of travelers;
With whose water, they’d bathed the beasts which stink,
Which flowed into the fields ‘yond for farmers.
The well that served for centuries thus,
Men and beasts and fields, not knowing their caste;
And continued to give water to us,
Perennially that was so sweet to taste.
The well of our ancestors, no more used,
Lies in ruins now and is very deep;
The corpse was found of a young man who ‘as killed!
Thrown into the well and made people weep.
The well that had given sweet water to drink,
It has now snakes, stones, garbage, corpses that stink.
poem by John Celes

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