Don't notice the tiny flea in the other person's hair and overlook the lumbering yak on your own nose.
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The Flea
A flea that bit you had bitten me too.
The two bloods mingled for single blood.
The flea’s body is our marriage lobby.
Neither shame nor sin would accrue since than.
Nor would you have grown any weaker too.
By yielding to me and getting my blood
You would shed no grace nor honour either.
You will make me than the flea happier.
Your yielding to me will not do more harm
Than what the flea has done to you, dear.
[the verse of John Donne, The Flea, rewritten]
20.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Papa....
he's the newest Papa in
town carrying the brown baby in his arms
the tiny nose is not the same as his
aquiline shape
the lips are thick his aren't
the heart-shaped face does not jibe
with his square jaw
somehow there are clouds of
doubt
as he looks closely on that fragile
creature which is now at the very
mercy of his arms
and hands
the little angel shapes a smile
as tiny as a flea
jumping to his heart
everything is forgotten
all the clouds suddenly disappear
in flagrante
he falls in love
the one that accepts and
knows not
what rejection is
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Saabierah
Just yesterday
I met a little lady
Well to be honest
She was a little baby
Tiny fingers and
Tiny toes
Lots of hair
And a button nose
A few days ago
She was brought about
A little princess
Without a doubt
Saabierah - Patient and Tolerant
She was named
Pretty as a picture
She should be framed
Not ylonget a week old
She already has a song
How will her life unfold?
Like something from a Sing-a-long
poem by scarlette Phoenix
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Obviously you have to have talent in order to play so you can't overlook that, but we won't overlook the character issue when it comes to talent because if they have talent and they don't have character, it's going to be very difficult to coach that person.
quote by Tim Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm sorry, I didn't notice
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
When this started to happen
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
I just let it begin
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
The change in anythin'
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
When we stopped talkin'
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
We weren't letting each other in
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
That sad, sad trend
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
The beginning of the end
I'm sorry, I didn't notice
You were no longer my friend
But believe me, now I notice
And it hurts deep within
Now that I notice
I hope you'll be again
poem by Dylan Burkhart
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I've Come to Notice More Now
I've come to notice more now,
The falling snow.
I've come to notice more now,
A certain purpose...
I had disavowed.
I've come to notice more now,
The core of my being with more meaning.
A joy I can express...
With less emphasis on things collected.
And a happiness I always had,
But somehow did not allow.
I've come to notice more now,
I can.
I've come to notice more now,
I will!
I've come to notice more now,
My needs are basically fulfilled.
Without desire to seek approval,
Sought to identify my peace of mind!
I've come to notice more now,
Thoughts like that I have left behind.
And notice, I do...
My blessings!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face
Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.
Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.
Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.
Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.
Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!
poem by Jack Prelutsky
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Putting A Person In A Box
when you put
a person in a box
the box becomes
the person
the box does not
grow
it chokes
the pharynx
and shuns away light
even air
the box cannot die
it stays as a
box for years
sometime when
you are anxious
you open the
box
only to find out
that the person
is not a box
and he is not
there
anymore
it was you inside
it
and it too was
gone
and you did not
notice
the box
the person
and you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Flea
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two;
And this, alas! is more than we would do.
O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, we're met,
And cloister'd in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suck'd from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou
Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
'Tis true; then learn how false fears be;
Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me,
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Inside each and every one of us is a person that no one knows. A person, should you take the time to look,is waiting to be discovered, Wanting you to take notice. Take a few minutes every day and sit down to chat to this person. Who knows what you may learn
quote by Neill MacRae
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dancing with the fairies
Walking through the fields
I saw a fairy dancing.
The fairy was so pretty
Dancing in the moonlight.
Translucent were the wings
Majestic was her dress.
Her hair, the wind did ruffle
A melody, her lips released.
Then the fairy took notice
Of my ever present eyes.
And so she called to me
To come and dance with her.
She starts to dance once more
Leaping through the air.
I followed her and twirled
And tried to dance like her.
Then a million fairies
Suddenly did appear.
A million tiny voices
Singing a tiny harmony.
Such a magnificent sight it was
Such a lovely dance.
Their tiny bodies flitting
And dancing in the moonlight.
I jumped and leaped and twirled
Dancing with the fairies.
I danced there in the starlight
With a million pretty fairies.
Time flew by and all too soon
The sun awoke and peaked at us.
The fairies stopped their dancing
And flew away for home.
But one fairy stayed behind
She did not go to bed.
She looked at me with sparkling eyes
The wonderful dancing fairy.
I saw her eyes did twinkle
And her hair in the wind did wave.
And then she dipped a curtsy
And on her way she flew.
That little dancing fairy.
poem by Mariya Shostak
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Invisible
Invisible
By: Jean Pullman
Why don’t you look at me
What will it take for you notice me
I try to be myself to you I am real
I tell you how I feel
But still.
CHORUS
You won’t look my way
I die slowly every day
You don’t notice my hair
You don’t like what I wear
It’s as if I am invisible
Because you just don’t see my visual.
I start to wonder why
I think I might even cry
Because you can’t see
That you’re perfect for me
You’re not meant for her
But to you I’m just a blur.
CHORUS
You never look my way
You don’t hear what I say
You never notice my hair
You never see what I wear
It’s as if I’m invisible
Because you just don’t see my visual.
Now I am almost dead
My heart is filled with dread
You still haven’t looked my way
My life slowly slips away
Because of you now I’m gone.
poem by Jean Pullman
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Nose
No one cares for the nose
To go nose straight is the tao
If there were no eyes
You could see better with your nose
If there were no nose
you wouldnot distinguish the sweet from the bitter
And there would be no value judgements in the world
And it is the nose that keeps you hot in the cold
And that keeps you cold in Jakodabad
The nose is the vigilant customs officer
That does not allow any drug to your lungs
And the nose cannot be bribed
Oh Nose! the customs officer of the body
And the pivot of value judgement in the world
If that name thou love
Remain with us and teach the noseless world
That it must have a nose in this wartorn world
He who knows the greatness of nose
Surely goes to the realm of rose
In the life to come
Hurrah Let us compose hymns to nose
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Fifi The Flea
(ransford)
Fifi the flea fell in love
With a clown from a flea circus fair
She gave him her heart
But he still couldnt see
That for such a long time she had cared
He put himself round all the other girl fleas
Unaware that he hurt her so badly
She cried in the arms of his manager friend
And declared that she loved the clown madly
One day fifi went
And this drove the clown wild
The poor little flea started crying
Never you mind his manager said
I ought not to tell but shes dyin
Dyin for love of you little flea
Youve broken her heart with your lyin
She couldnt stand to see you throw
Her love away without tryin
The day fifi died the little clown vowed
Hed tend her grave every hour
He broke down and cried
When he saw her grave
And on it he placed a small flower
Poor little flea he wasted away
Hed lost his fifi forever
So they opened her grave
Put him inside
Now at last they are together
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loving the way you treat me
i can't believe i won't see you much,
now what am i going to do,
i like our time we spend together,
it always makes time go faster,
we always have a good time,
i'm starting to notice,
what some ppl around us notice,
that we use 'we' and 'us' alot,
but yet we won't get together,
we won't go on a date,
i feel like you want me,
but you also want to take it slow,
don't know why that drives me crazy,
maybe cuz no guy i ever dated,
ever wanted to take it slow,
or they didn't treat me,
as good as you do,
you make me feel like a princess,
like i can be a better person,
but instead i'm settling for less,
i just wish i can see the person you see.
poem by Mona Martinez
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Zipper my tongue
notice me not; i am zipper by the fence of
my teeth and close by the lips, protected by two
holes beneath the two big eye balls rap with color
little hair, to feel it shiny tiny cloth of skin to tell
why keep in talking if the heart can't improve
good silent, and why the nose always breathing
when, the same air, feel in the air, would it's not
easy for the ears listen and talk to the wind after
the dawn of silent
sleep my dear heart; let us always open the mouth
and touch the teeth for every silent the tongue will
speak; for each return claps the hands where the pin
is on
what then the little heart tell, when the big blind
mouth says that; the waiting is over for everything is
ready to a harder fight, and win a better glorious
victory, its not the right aim yet, the best shoot it
gain
stop my apology; the same things happen again,
please switch a new beginning for my awesome
heart zipper my tongue forever......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Tiny Bubble
If youre part of my love
Dont leave home tonight
While were sleeping we can learn to see that
All the worlds a tiny bubble
Floating inside
Those of us who notice are
Expected to hide
All the worlds a tiny bubble
Floating inside, the truth
When I look in your eyes
I can see the sky
Shining down upon the perfect garden
All the worlds a tiny bubble
Floating inside
Those of us who notice are
Expected to hide
All the worlds a tiny bubble
Floating inside the truth
You cant imagine just what Ive been going through
I wouldnt wish it on a soul much less on you
I well remember when my heart was free
My soul could laugh, so could we
If youre part of my love
Dont leave home tonight
While were sleeping we can learn to see that
All the worlds a tiny bubble
Floating inside
Those of us who notice are
Expected to hide
All the worlds a tiny bubble
Floating inside, the truth
You cant imagine just what Ive been going through
I wouldnt wish it on a soul much less on you
I well remember when my soul was free
My heart could sing, so could we
If youre part of my love
You wont leave home tonight
While were sleeping we can learn to see that
All the worlds a tiny bubble
Floating inside
All the worlds a tiny bubble
Floating inside
All the worlds a tiny bubble
Repeat to end
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Notice What This Poem Is Not Doing
The light along the hills in the morning
comes down slowly, naming the trees
white, then coasting the ground for stones to nominate.
Notice what this poem is not doing.
A house, a house, a barn, the old
quarry, where the river shrugs--
how much of this place is yours?
Notice what this poem is not doing.
Every person gone has taken a stone
to hold, and catch the sun. The carving
says, "Not here, but called away."
Notice what this poem is not doing.
The sun, the earth, the sky, all wait.
The crowns and redbirds talk. The light
along the hills has come, has found you.
Notice what this poem has not done.
poem by William Stafford
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Shadow
The wind blowing through your hair,
Hits my face from the same direction.
I brush the hair out of my eyes
So I can keep looking at you.
You're so beautiful to me.
I can see your lips moving,
But I can't make out what you are singing.
Do you know your nose twitches before you giggle?
I could look at you all day!
I am stunned….
Mesmerised by you.
The sun is slowly collapsing over the horizon,
The bare trees cast long shadows like tall men,
A chill passes through me,
And you pull your cardigan closed to stay warm.
It's time to go home.
We keep walking through the end of today,
Past the pools of yesterdays swim,
Past the grocery store where you bought movie snacks,
And I watched silently.
You stop to pick a plum from the tree of old Mrs Beckett.
Your nose wrinkles, and you giggle with your first bite
You are a delight.
I notice my step has matched yours…
Left after right, in time with my heart.
There it is…..home.
You take your key from your pocket,
And I watch as you let yourself inside.
I turn and walk away.
You have taken another long romantic walk,
That only one of us knows about.
See you tomorrow.
© 2012
poem by Ruby Honeytip
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A Poem For Dada Day At The Place April 1, 1958
I
The bartender
Has eyes the color of ripe apricots
Easy to please as a cash register he
Enjoys art and good jokes.
Squish
Goes the painting
Squirt
Goes the poem
He
We
Laugh.
II
It is not easy to remember that other people died
besides Dylan Thomas and Charlie Parker
Died looking for beauty in the world of the
bartender
This person, that person, this person, that person
died looking for beauty
Even the bartender died
III
Dante blew his nose
And his nose came off in his hand
Rimbaud broke his throat
Trying to cough
Dada is not funny
It is a serious assault
On art
Because art
Can be enjoyed by the bartender.
IV
The bartender is not the United States
Or the intellectual
Or the bartender
He is every bastard that does not cry
When he reads this poem.
poem by Jack Spicer
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