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Bonfire
stoke the fire!
sticks of prejudice
and hatred...
sticks of greed
and apathy.
sticks of profit
and loss....
sticks of capitalism,
and oil....
sticks of guns,
and patriotism.
sticks of sexual abuse
and addiction...
sticks of oppression,
and slavery....
stoke the fire!
build it up till
it's all gone....
maybe we'll find
...tomorrow..
in the ashes!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Dying
It frightens me when you come to mind
The day you dropped in the shopping line
And my heart beats faster when I think of all the signs
When they carried you out your mouth was open wide
The cat went astray and the dog did pine for days and days
And we felt so guilty when we played you up
When you were ill, so ill
What sticks in my mind is the sweet jar
On the sideboard. and your multicolored tea cosy
What sticks in my mind is the dew-drop hanging off your nose
Shrivelled up and blue
And Im getting older, too
But I dont want to die like you
Dont want to die like you
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Censor a self-appointed snoophound who sticks his nose in other people's business.
quote by Bennett Alfred Cerf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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123
From the bowery to the brimstone
I tried to find your heart
With drugs of initiation
The bottom of a barrel that drops
I understand your causes
Sympathize the motivation
But all the details of this war
Are just self-infatuation
And its 1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go home
Manic blood runs thick my friend
Are you looking for a clean escape
Whats left when the locks have all been broken
Young children of authority
Now how long can you be agile
Dancing between the alter and the mercy seat
Yeah now heres a chance to make a choice
Are you aware of the fire beneath your feet
1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go home
The basement lies within us
Our fear comes through the door
Now theres nothing left between us
As the fear becomes a roar
Once that wheel is in motion
Dont you lose what you have found
Im talking about that burning wheel of tongues
Everything that makes it go round and round
Were all born in the devils scorn
They want to see you die
Im asking you are you true
Everything they say is a lie
Its a lie
1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go
1 2 3
Nothings for free
4 5 6
Pick up the sticks and go
1 2 3
(were all born)
Nothings for free
(in the devils scorn)
1 2 3
(were all born)
Nothings for free
(in the devils scorn)
Everything they say its a lie
(were all born)
Its a lie now
(in the devils scorn)
Everything they say its a lie
Its a lie now
Pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
Pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
Pick up the sticks
(pick up the sticks)
Pick up the sticks
And go home
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Why We Fight pt 1 (Lock and Load)
You’ve walked out the garden and watched your hands go
From picking up berries to picking up ammo
The same sticks and twigs that build up your village
Fight off the conquers and plunders and pillage//
-Stones and sticks and sticks and stones
Gather them up to protect your home
And when needed use them on some bones
Lay them all down to outline your zone
Raise them and burn them on your throne
Monsters can’t outrun the sticks and stones-
Sharpen your spears to take down your dinner
You and the beast can’t both be the winner
It’s about time you got out of this slump
Load up your brains to outsmart the hunt
poem by P.R. Prosper
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Why Do You Bob Your Nose, Girl ?
(kinky friedman)
Why do you bob your nose, girls, it does not look so nice,
If it' s just to keep in fashion, it's not the lord's advice.
Well, you mangle mother nature and brave the lord's command
You care about your nose, girls, and reach the glory land.
Why do you bob your nose, girls, it's not the thing to do,
Run with that nose and some day the lord may say to you:
You naughty little booger, you honky tonkin' hose
But at least i'm glad for one thing: you'sll never bob your nose.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There was an Old Man with a nose,
Who said, 'If you choose to suppose,
That my nose is too long,
You are certainly wrong!'
That remarkable Man with a nose.
by Edward Lear from A Book of Nonsense (1846)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O! What a nose!
People talk about a running nose
I'm talking about a long facial cargo
She’s got a nose longer than my longest toes
With a mission of being nosy as time goes
Please don’t get close
When she discloses
Her loud snoring doze
Don’t be like the heroes
Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
What a precious nose pose!
Painted as red as a romantic rose
Standing long like my garden pipe hose
And as she sniffs, sneezes and exposes
I cannot help thinking of Pinocchio’s nose
Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
Red and long when it snows
And this nose is nosy
She can smell a rat, cat or a bat
When you are getting cozy
In your one bedroom flat
O! What a nose!
In and out juice flows
And when she smells the air
They all cannot help but stare
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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My Nose Is Growing Old
Yup.
A long lazy September look
in the mirror
say it's true.
I'm 31
and my nose is growing
old.
It starts about 1/2
an inch
below the bridge
and strolls geriatrically
down
for another inch or so:
stopping.
Fortunately, the rest
of the nose is comparatively
young.
I wonder if girls
will want me with an
old nose.
I can hear them now
the heartless bitches!
"He's cute
but his nose
is old."
poem by Richard Brautigan
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Sticks And Stones
Sticks and stones, might break my bones
And words, shall never harm me,
I was told that story, when I was a Boy
Along with the birds and bees, I believe
So I lived my life, through that advice
That was given to me in my youth,
That sticks and stones would break my bones
And words could do no harm was true.
So I stayed away from sticks and stones
And tried never calling anyone names
But the sticks still arrived, in my life
And also the words of hate and pain.
But then I had healed from broken bones
And bruises and all the nasty cuts,
It made me stronger, then I thought longer
About the words of hate and such.
Because the words of hate, I couldn't escape
As I noticed them around everyday
Destroying ones soul, until life they'd let go
Or asking GOD for vengeance as they'd pray.
Sticks and stones had broke my bones
And words of hate had really harmed me,
As I look around, I can still hear the sound
Of hate, and belittlement, and bigotry.
There are still broken bones and nasty cuts,
As I see as I enter every day with a walk,
But doctors heal then, as they are new again
But the words of hatred never balks.
In my life I have made many choices,
And I hope with one I don't stand alone
Never to ever use any word of hate
As I don't mind getting hit with sticks or stones.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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I don't like my hockey sticks touching other sticks, and I don't like them crossing one another, and I kind of have them hidden in the corner. I put baby powder on the ends. I think it's essentially a matter of taking care of what takes care of you.
quote by Wayne Gretzky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turned-up nose
I want to clear this matter up some way
And at the same time make my point
That love note I sent you the other day?
The one that got your nose all out of joint?
I think I simply typed too fast
And didn’t say what I meant to say
Not …“I like your huge, turnip nose”…
But “I like your cute turned up nose”
Was What I really meant to say
poem by David Whalen
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A freudian slip (who nose?)
I want to clear this matter up some way
And at the same time make my point
That love note I sent you the other day?
The one that got your nose all out of joint?
I think I simply typed too fast
And didn’t say what I meant to say
Not …“I like your huge, turnip nose”…
But “I like your cute turned up nose”
Was What I really meant to say
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When They Draw Us
When they draw us, the children,
as great beaming sun-faces
balanced on sticks, waving sticks,
can it be that they see us so soon
with a clarity we believe
comes only with age?
They draw us out
of ourselves, our trembling palaces,
into the fragile worlds
they play, dream, fear into being,
as if they know even now
we will be going.
poem by Eric Torgersen
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Gotta Bad Nose Job
Bah bah bah babbay,
You brought the Moon.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Stars.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Sun,
Right into my heart!
Bah,
Babbay...
And when I sleep.
Bah,
Babbay...
My dreams get to leaping.
Bah,
Babbay...
And you know...
I am up to pace the floor.
'Cause I know,
You know...
I gotta bad nose job!
Bah
Bababy...
You brought the Stars.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Sun,
Right into my heart!
And you know...
I know,
I gotta bad nose job!
Bah bah bah babbay,
You brought the Moon.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Stars.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Sun,
Right into my heart!
And you know...
I know you know,
I gotta bad nose job!
Yes I know you know...
I've got that bad nose job!
'You wanna put some 'salsa'
On that 'lemon merange'?
Do ya!
For your rhythmic pleasure?
Do ya?
And seal it with a French kiss?
Do ya? '
Yes I know...
You KNOW,
I've got that bad nose job.
Bah babbay...
Yes I've got it.
Bah babbay...
Yes I do.
Bah babbay...
Yes I've got it.
And you know it too.
Yes I know...
You KNOW I've-got-that BAD nose job!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hearts Of Drums
Hearts evolve as bent sticks,
The sticks wend their ways around us.
Instead of insisting, the sticks become
My loneliness, as they track the criminals
With their glare and fighting strategy.
This ground quakes for the offered circles,
The masculine circle, aware of a gathering storm,
Wide gaps produce wide storms.
Let this misery pass, like the bread
And the eggs have parted with an arbitrary rule.
The regime of fountains continuously celebrates,
Moving aside and keeping cash
Like the very ill fountains,
Strong in wealth,
Yet again money is gold
As we strive to the gate of trumpets and drums.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Long-Nosed Fair
Once on a time I fair Dorinda kiss'd,
Whose nose was too distinguish'd to be miss'd;
My dear, says I, I fain would kiss you closer,
But tho' your lips say aye--your nose says, no, Sir.--
The maid was equally to fun inclin'd,
And plac'd her lovely lily-hand behind;
Here, swain, she cry'd, may'st thou securely kiss,
Where there's no nose to interrupt thy bliss.
poem by Christopher Smart
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Oh Ellen To Play Fun Sticks With You.
What a love and joy to see you,
Your blond hair shines in the sun,
Your smile doth capture my heart strings,
We are going to have such fun
Gran dad walkies you say to me,
As you tightly hold my hand,
Let’s go play hide and seek,
Under this tree I will count and stand,
A bridge over the stream in the wood let’s look,
I will gather some twigs for Fun sticks we will play,
We both throw our Fun sticks into the brook,
Whose twig will be first under the bridge this way?
Such fun and so delightful,
We have had such a lovely day,
We are so exhausted,
And you are so tired and need your sleep,
I feel we are so lucky,
To have a grand daughter like you,
And also such a daughter,
Who made sure we got to know you,
Such a love so overwhelming,
So sure so strong so true,
One thing I will always remember,
Is when I played Fun Sticks with you?
(Ref Winnie the Pooh)
poem by Anthony Foster
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