I cured my self but I amputated my nose in the process.
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bad Habits & Infections
Come to me like Im the doctor
Say you need someone to talk ta
You want advice go ask your mother
One bad turn deserves another
cause Ive been cursed with your infection
Makin my head hurt makin my eyes burn
Youve taken me in the wrong direction
And left me there with no protection
Bad habits can be cured by cutting
Them out
Infections can be cured by cutting
Them out
Maybe youll find a friend up in the
Rainbow room
If you can dodge the drinks that
Theyve been throwing at you
Anyway, your boyfriend should be
Coming home soon
Then you can hide your life away
Bad habits can be cured by cutting
Them out
Infections can be cured by cutting
Them out
Come to me like Im the doctor
Come to me like Im the doctor
Come to me like Im the doctor
I am the doctor
I am the doctor
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Consumed Within the Process
Consumed within the process
That process we call life.
Immuned? Not from this process.
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed within the process.
That process we call life.
Immuned?
Not from this process!
It keeps the vision near yet uncompromised.
And far enough to become realized.
Closing its eyes only when it wishes,
To call itself out!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
It keeps the vision in precision,
Until it's in 'all' sights.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
It keeps the vision in precision,
Until it's in 'all' sights.
Consumed.
Within the process.
Just consumed.
Within the process this process.
Consumed.
Within the process.
That process called life!
Don't assume...
This process,
Is a process you can't like!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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This Process
This process.
As difficult as it is,
Gives an ease that seems to flow.
There is a representation that creates an image.
And that picture painted,
Allows what is in one mind to another show.
This process can also deliver emotions as well.
And the skill of it,
Can bring hardened eyes to soften with tears.
This process can even produce a fear.
With a rushing done by someone stunned,
To run from room to room...
With the turning on of every light,
With something firmly tight held near.
This process can invite those feelings of love.
And melt a cold shoulder.
Or...
Even heat a flame under burning sheets.
This process can also get extremely tired.
With a nodding of a process,
That introduces...
Sleep!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Process continues
All the eggs don’t hatch.
All the seeds don’t burst.
All the loves don’t spark.
Yet the process continues.
All the chicks don’t live.
All the sprouts don’t grow.
All the loves don’t bloom.
But the process continues.
Pest takes toll of the siblings.
Drought takes the toll of the seedlings.
Fate stalls many loves in making.
Still the process continues.
The process spurts the hope.
The process spurs the heart.
The process thrills the senses.
Evolution, thus, continues.
03.10.2000, Pkmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I don't think the process was successful and should be inspected closer. I am not afraid to say I am not familiar with the entire process, so before commenting further I would have to study the process more in depth.
quote by Vincent Frank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Life is a process. We are a process. The universe is a process.
quote by Anne Wilson Schaef
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother Nature Has Already Taken Those Steps
Before a manmade disease,
Can be treated and cured.
Many will agree,
The disease has to be located,
And isolated.
For a degree of success to occur.
And then again,
Naturally...
Mother Nature has already taken those steps,
To affect that process...
Upon those who leech,
With lessons yet to learn.
And from Mother Nature,
An outreaching will be taught!
With no mistaking,
To whom She has come to teach.
Undoing what has to Her disturbed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Process
Leave them alone!
You pose a threat,
To their process.
'Huh?
Their process?
What Process?
Their process doesn't exist! '
Sssshhh...
Quietly.
That's why you must leave them alone.
They are not aware of it.
And you...
Trying to get them to make some sense,
Is upsetting.
Just go along with it.
'Go along with what? '
The 'process'.
'But it doesn't exist.'
You know it and I know it.
Why can't you just leave it alone...
And let them pretend?
Why is it so important to you,
That they become aware and conscious?
Why?
There are several other charities,
To which you can donate your time and efforts.
In this case...
These minds have already been wasted.
Trust me.
Why do you think I whisper to you?
There are only a few of us left with the power to think.
Trust me?
Why do you think I whisper to you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I almost had to have my leg amputated because of an infection.
Political ideological systems are based on conceptions of the natural life process. They may further or hinder the natural life process. They themselves, however, do not function at the roots of the social process. They may be democratic; in that case they further the natural human life process. They may be authoritarian and dictatorial; in that case they are its deadly enemy.
quote by Wilhelm Reich
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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He once had his toes amputated so he could stand closer to the bar.
quote by Mike Harding
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hay Fever
Sitting by my stereo all alone
My baby calls me on the telephone
She says, baby take me out for a dance
I tell my baby I feel so bad
I cant go out and its making me sad
But when you see me, I know you will understand
I got hay fever, blocking up my head
Hay fever, I ought to be in bed
How can I dance when I can hardly breathe
Wish I could cure this infernal allergy
I got, hay fever blocking up my brain
Hay fever, feel the sinus pains
And all the pills and the powders are in vain
Thought I was cured but here it comes again
It goes ooh-ah
The pollen counts getting higher and higher
My eyes are sore and my nose is on fire
My throats dry now and Im starting to perspire
My stuffed up heads killing all of my desire
I got hay fever, you wicked allergy,
Hay fever, you put the curse on me
And Ive inhaled every know remedy
I cant stay cool cos Im starting to sneeze
I cant make love when I cant hardly breathe
We start to dance and my nose starts to bleed
There must be a cure for this hay fever
Is there a pill or a powder I can take
I must get a cure, for my romance is at stake
Hey fever, you tore my image down
Hey fever, I must look like a clown
I must have used every tissue in town
Im running round sniffin like a hound
It goes ooh-ah
I wanna kiss but Im sneezin instead
I cant make love when my head feels like lead
How can I pose when my nose is all red
We should be home, should be tucked up in bed
But I got hay fever
Hay fever
Hay fever
Hay fever
Hay fever
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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R.i.p
I know a reformed paedophile
and he is where he ought to be.
Buried deep beneath a pile
of monumental masonry
An enraged father killed the beast
and pleaded provocation.
Nobody cavilled in the least
when he received probation.
He had saved children from abuse
and cured a problem at its source.
For paedophiles are of no use,
Though some will disagree of course.
He slumbers deep and peacefully
his disease cured permanently.
22-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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