Come and I'll tell you something, tickles the ear.
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The Photograph
See dis pictyah in my han'?
Dat's my gal;
Ain't she purty? goodness lan'!
Huh name Sal.
Dat's de very way she be--
Kin' o' tickles me to see
Huh a-smilin' back at me.
She sont me dis photygraph
Jes' las' week;
An' aldough hit made me laugh--
My black cheek
Felt somethin' a-runnin' queer;
Bless yo' soul, it was a tear
Jes' f'om wishin' she was here.
Often when I 's all alone
Layin' here,
I git t'inkin' 'bout my own
Sallie dear;
How she say dat I 's huh beau,
An' hit tickles me to know
Dat de gal do love me so.
Some bright day I 's goin' back,
Fo' de la!
An' ez sho' 's my face is black,
Ax huh pa
Fu' de blessed little miss
Who 's a-smilin' out o dis
Pictyah, lak she wan'ed a kiss!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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He that tickles himself, may laugh when he will.
He who tickles himself can laugh whenever he wants.
He who tickles himself can laugh when he pleases.
He who tickles himself may laugh when he pleases.
Jazz tickles your muscles, symphonies stretch your soul.
quote by Paul Whiteman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleepless nights
A cute wife- it tickles your pride.
It gives you some sleepless nights too.
05.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Cliché Attack (for Jan man!)
Like...wow!
She was the cat’s meow!
And upon
divesting herself
of her
night attire
She was most definitely
the cat’s pyjamas!
“Oh! Your beard!
...tickles! ”
She giggles.
She was the cat’s whiskers.
Me?
I thought she was
the bee’s
knees.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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The fact that this is getting released, and people are just now hearing it, kind of tickles me. This is just awesome that the media is excited to talk to me and find out what's happening.
quote by Jessi Colter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trickle, pickle fiddlestick
tickles thick the lim-e-rick.
Brick to kick
wick to lick,
Menshevik with carrotstick.
quote by by Herbert Nehrlich
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Rainbow Snake
This story of the Rainbow Serpent is an Australian aboriginal legend and I have re-told it, with the best of intentions, for an international audience. I may have made some changes to the story and I hope my re-telling is true to the spirit of the original versions.
the rainbow snake
see it tickles
the frogs
and water fills the rivers and gullies
and waterholes;
and see the rainbow snake
see it brings forth
all life sleeping before
it is the beginning
and the earth is bare and barren
and the Rainbow Serpent
dear Ngalyod, powerful Borlung
the lovely Rainbow Serpent
she moves across the earth
and where she moves
see
how she creates tracks and dry courses
and huge craters;
and see how the Rainbow Serpent
she digs into the earth and emerges crashing into the air
on the other earth side of the world
and see how she throws up mountains and crags
and hills and mounds
and the Uluru and ravines;
and she calls the frogs
who come in heavy and bloated
and she tickles the frogs
and the frogs laugh
and the waters flow and the rains have come
and the dry lands are replete
with billabongs, rivers, creeks and lagoons
and the mighty oceans;
and the Rainbow Serpent is pleased
and she calls forth all
sleeping beings
and they all awake
and the Rainbow Serpent is pleased
and she provides them laws
and she disappears into another waterhole
and you can see her
you can see the Benevolent Rainbow Serpent
as she travels from one waterhole to another
as she emerges from one and she is in the sky
and you can see her
the lovely creative Rainbow Serpent in the sky
and she disappears soon enough
into another huge waterhole
somewhere on our earth
the rainbow snake
see it tickles
the frogs
and water fills the rivers and gullies
and waterholes;
and see the rainbow snake
see it brings forth
all life sleeping before
poem by Raj Arumugam
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About Us Now
there is nothing that tickles the
heart now
no word
no whisper is seductive enough
to make my thoughts
dance
this is part of my autumn
when leaves of myself float
on the river
full of moss and run over
by fleeting creatures
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Advice To A Friend
there is a point in not having to say anything
when we really have nothing to say
but there is no point in not writing what we cannot say
what we do not want to say
what we keep on keeping like a bomb inside our heads
let it explode! ~ write everything that disturbs
that tickles and even the one that kills
come to think about something redeeming too,
like my thoughts of you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm Illegaly Insane
My center stage laugh from childhood
Tickles the insides of my cheeks
As the frost wind smoke quickly clears
And the desk lamp shines upon me
(revealing a brand new person)
poem by Michael Fischer
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When You Whisper In My Ear
when you whisper in my ear
you must know that i am not really listening
it is this warm breath of yours
that tickles my nape and my hair
my neck is sending erotic signals to my pelvis
i like to turn back to you quickly
so our lips may meet and then
i shall know what do you really want
candidly and spontaneously without words
do not tell me for i always understand.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Desire
i nurse it
i nurture it
at times
i neglect it
whatever i do
it coils uncoils
it sinks floats
it soothes stabs
it titillates threatens
it perpetually tickles
the insides
with the flutter of a wing
since times immemorial!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Me And Ruth
Have your hear about
the 2 mushroom standin
tall on the mountain top?
That which glister during
the winter and summer,
that is me and Ruth.
We are those birdz which it's
wings tickles the sky, that
same bird which whisper lovers
2 bed after their erotic touches,
am the cupid and she is that bow
is my hand
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
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Simile Spoke, Metaphor Evoked
from one metaphor to the next
the carousel of loop to loop
at the luna park, tickles the senses
frightens the fears
pay good money for schizo tears
endorsed and invoked
is the punch line and joke
of imagination, evoked
poem by Shimon Weinroth
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Raffy
Raffy in Las Vegas always knew what to do with his life.
Nothing submerged, suppressed, everything waiving like hands
Welcome, welcome,
Happiness, there is no tint of sadness on his face
Lovers abound, There is no shame,
There is always that touch
That tickles his legs
Of hair and
Tongue,
He forgets home where his face is stuffed
Like a bear.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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