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Naked
So you want me to take it off
Just to see whats
Underneath my cloth
Ill show you Im every
Inch a man
Measure all that you
Think you can
Im more than what
Meets the eye
Flesh n blood is
Often a white lie
By the cover you misjudge
The book
Open your mind and take
Another look
Naked, and Im unashamed
Naked, with no one to blame
Naked, ya you want the truth
Naked, heres my birthday suit
Naked, naked, naked, naked
I pretend to be not anyone
Except me and my imperfections
There is nothing i
Expect of you
That you wouldnt
Expect of me, too
Chorus
Will you excuse me for my ignorance
cause I can see only one
Difference
Those of you who seek to find
While all the others choose
To walk n talk blind
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Naked
'my family, my friends, my children, my wife...'
Have you ever tried to strip naked
i mean from body to soul
'my job, my country, my school...'
Have you ever tried to go naked
for the winds to blow and the sun to scotch
'my God, my religion, my pastor/preacher...'
you've got to try being naked
to lay out your thoughts and meet the truth
The world and all it's dwellings could belong
but try going naked for a day
and visit the realms of greatness
This is not madness but sadness
with which i beseech you to strip naked
and find the truth we've all missed
strip naked: put off the cloth of pretense
move out of the darkness of illusion
and come where naked, where the light shines.
poem by Timothy muggaga
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The sage wears clothes of coarse cloth but carries jewels in his bosom He knows himself but does not display himself He loves himself but does not hold himself in high esteem.
The Old Army Blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
The soldier did not seem to care
Let the enemy try to take if he dare;
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
Driving rain or snow wearing his blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
Being a soldier he could expect no better fare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
His fight done, read over with a prayer
Wrapped in the old grey Army blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
He did his duty few could compare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
poem by Derrick Fernie
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Someone’s Daughter
Her mouth is coarse, her lipstick vulgar,
pearl glasses wide as any saucer,
her dress is dark as nakèd night,
her hair is in a sorry plight! -
Enough! - she too’s life’s brick and mortar,
and, flesh for flesh, is someone’s daughter.
© Jonathan Robin 15 January 1969
Someone's Daughter_19690115_Her mouth is coarse ROBIN Jonathan 1947_20xx robi3_0001_robi3_0000 XXX_MXX
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Buck Nekkid
Two shots shy of a 40 ounce quart
A hand in the pocket and a hand in the shorts
Shoot me with two and don't be slow
Only got one good way to go
Get naked
Buck naked
Buck naked
It's the only way to go
Twenty six chicks, all tied in a knot
Ain't all good, but it's what we got
Get naked
Buck naked
Let me see you naked
It's the only way to go
Buck buck
I was feelin' so fine
And things were lookin' better
My baby said maybe
And I said I'd let her
Get naked
Buck naked
Let's get naked
It's the only way to go
Get naked
Everybody get naked
Buck naked
It's the onliest way to go
Get naked
Get buck naked, yeah
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nude myself again
i came naked with no name in my hand and my head
is ready to a wonderful words you and i can understand,
the many plan, you want me to follow; in the womb
until the tomb, you have given me a chance to love you
and kept all your everlasting command
cloth me to protect the precious gift of life you
connect, hundred and thousand of years the Lord has
prepared, as the angel and the prophet commit, my mind
and body comes to see, that God of heaven and the hell is
ready, for who ever followed in thy heart and soul will have
an eternity
my deep sleep, always tell my naked eye to fly, of where
the sky is high and bright each day as it says good bye;
the naked where i was born, returning naked soul i'll be
home
come home my darling naked body in the bosom spirit
your naked immortal soul will stay........in the judgment
time you will say a beautiful good bye
' first letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians 15: 40 '
poem by Antonio Liao
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Maybe a naked person should not be taken to a cloth shop.
When a naked person promises you cloth beware.
Give a naked man a piece of cloth and he will say it is too thick.
The Cloth of Time
The concept of time is
Like a cloth
Waving in the wind.
The wind collides
And bounces,
Causing the cloth to sway.
We are the specks
Of dust
Nestled within
The fibers of time.
This cloth is where
We sleep and wake.
This wind is the result
Of our existence.
When the wind is still
The cloth of time
Hangs
Like a man
Whose time has run out.
poem by by unknown author
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Burial Day
Bright chill
coiling clouds
roiling coarse space
welling
heaving seas,
while naked
free
from death’s
empty pledge,
at last
I leap
into the lucid
air
poem by Steven Federle
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Sergio Fiorentino Playing A Schumann
He shall patiently play
him a piano piece a
Sergio fiorentino
And he will
Mimic a Schumann piece
Because
Today he sees him
In full view
Bathing naked
On the river
He is a big man
Like himself
Now he comes
Back to the river
Where they once
Bathed as children
Naked and so
Blessedly innocent
There is malice
Now as he is
Big and muscled
And some black
Hairs decorated
His manhood
His armpits
His thighs
And his
Chests
He calls him
To join him
As they were
Once children
To have a river
To cleanse them
Both
“come, come”
we shall have
a bath in this
river of our
vibrant laughter”
he was inviting &
he was excited.
so
He took off his
Clothes and
Every covering
Of his body
His second
Thoughts and
Taking courage
He jumped
Into the river
Where he
Stood naked,
What he will say
He is prepared
To defend himself
It was him
Who made the
Invitation and
All he did was
Simply to obey.
He promises
There will be no
Regret whatsoever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Naked Eyes
Naked and Vulnerable,
I lie before you
For you to behold me
With your naked eyes…
Beautiful and Ugly
I lie before you
For you to assess me
With your naked eyes…
Drenched in Love
I lie before you
For you to reciprocate
With your naked eyes…
Doused in Passion
I lie before you
For you to arouse me
With your naked eyes…
The Goddess in Me
Lying before you,
Asking
The God in you
To propitiate her
With his heavenly body
And naked eyes…
As you devour me
And savour me
In the heat and the sweat
Of our spiritual ‘coming’
I transfix my gaze
On your naked eyes…
When you smile back
In opulent ecstasy
I feel so blissful
And so peaceful
In this shameless abandonment
To your naked eyes…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Kenton Comes to Tea
Kenton comes to tea.
Dunne serves at table.
Kenton knew Hazel
even as a child.
Her late father's friend
watches Dunne pour tea
into his teacup.
Your dear father's death
was quite sudden he says.
We were in Paris
touring when news came
Hazel says softly.
Who was the other?
Kenton asks Hazel.
Dunne here my maid came.
Oh I see he says
gazing at Dunne's thighs
hidden behind cloth.
He was a good man
Kenton says firmly
I've known him for years.
Dunne wants to refute
but remains silent.
Her master's abuse
of her sexually
remains in her mind.
Hazel looks at Dunne
she knows the secrets
knew her father's deeds.
Kenton rattles on.
Hazel remembers
her months in Paris
with Dunne at her side.
Art and galleries.
Cafes on corners
smoking and drinking.
Talking and laughing.
Both of them bathing
always together
touching and feeling
kissing and holding
in one bed at night.
Dunne slices the cake
pours Hazel's black tea
her blue eyes searching.
Kenton eats his cake
talks between mouthfuls
spluttering small crumbs.
Dunne studies Hazel
her eyes undressing
her tongue like a snail
moves slowly between
her mistress's thighs
her hands embracing
the smooth naked skin
in her memory.
Hazel looks away
the room is so warm.
She knows that soft stare
sexual and hot
and she whispering
more of that don't stop
scratching through the air.
Dunne hears her and smiles
pours Kenton more tea.
He is unaware there's love in the air.
poem by Terry Collett
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Art of Cloth
From fiber, to spinning wheel
From thread, to weaving mill
From textile, to sewing machine
Cloth is continuous ceremony
Whether knitting, whether embroider
Whether patchwork, whether bead work
The beautiful batik, the intricate songket
Cloth is concentration lesson
The strata symbol, the politeness norm
The body art, the cover part
Wedding dress, black tie suit
Cloth is human civilization
From skin, to fabric
From corset, to mini skirt
From blue jeans, to legging
Cloth is history record
Classic style, replied fashion
Color play, motif trend
Mismatch mode, big bang accessories
Cloth is social adaptation
Conservative nerd, ethnic vintage
Religion veil, punk rebel
Costume play, Gothic Lolita
Cloth is identity crisis
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Racism man wearing white
No stop pushing me becos
of the colour of my cloth
if nothing is done my cloth
will torn
i cann't put on white to please
you
my cloth is n't white
so leave me with my
own colour
if you do n't leave me alone
i will be force to shout
for help and if nobody help
i will be force to fight
and if i fight i will fight
to the last
so stop this racism of white
and black cloth.
poem by Senator alufalism
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A Definition Of Life....
it is the feeling
of a desert that we
feel sometimes
deep in our
hearts on
some nights
following
completely dark
the stars are not
there
you miss the howl
of the jackal
or the strong sounds
of the sandstorm
you hate this
void
you want to expel
it
you draw the desert
and then
erase it
you paint a cactus
and you wash it
away on the
canvass
what remains
is the coarse
cloth and the
frame of
silver
tabula rasa
you begin again
on the blankness
and the bluntness
of your
thinking
you stop
and ponder and
make a definition
of life...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Morning (Poem From The Movie Il Postino)
Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,
smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:
you have moon-lines, apple-pathways:
naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked, you are blue as a night in Cuba;
you have vines and stars in your hair;
naked, you are spacious and yellow
as summer in a golden church.
Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails-
curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
and you withdraw to the underground world,
as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:
your clear light dims, gets dressed - drops its leaves-
and becomes a naked hand again
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet XXVII: Naked You Are As Simple as one of your Hands
Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,
Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:
You have moonlines, applepathways:
Naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked, you are blue as the night in Cuba;
You have vines and stars in your hair;
Naked, you are spacious and yellow
As summer in a golden church.
Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails,
Curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
And you withdraw to the underground world,
as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:
Your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,
And becomes a naked hand again.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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