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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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Straw Foot
I guess you didnt hear me
When I told you for the first time
Well dont you worry
It wont be the last
All I need a floorboard
An a wooden shoe
Step aside an let my lady through
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Up an back around
See the high priest
He took my place
When the judge looks to me
He saw his sons face
Not gonna join you in
Your tower of babble, boy
Tired o that talkin
Im sick o that noise
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Im not alone
An looks can be deceivin
When we get down to it
Youre talkin when you
Should be leavin
Ive been to nebraska
It reminded me of spain
All the questions loaded
All my answers same
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hay foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Let us not mince our words
Lets say it true this time
I need your forgiveness
Just like you need mine
Tell me how it is that
You dont want what hes given
It aint no sin son
To be forgiven
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
All over town
song performed by by 16 Horsepower

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh My Gosh!
Oh my gosh!
Here we are...
Washing,
Clothes.
Oh my gosh!
Here we are...
Nose to nose.
And,
Washing clothes.
Folding the sheets we laid on.
Together you and I...
After a wetness sweated us,
In a rocking that followed with sleep.
To awaken after we slept.
Welcomed by a dawning Sun...
To greet us in the morning,
With a glowing on our faces...
Shown to be done.
And OH my gosh!
Here we are,
Washing clothes.
Nose to nose and folding sheets.
Something tells me,
A togetherness is certain.
Something else tells me...
You will have me ironing the curtains,
If I don't put my foot down...
To speak up to say,
This 'sweetness' I may display today...
Is a rarity witnessed,
You will one day see...
Is not part of my personality.
Like you,
I will not be left impressed.
Just because we had another night...
Of unexpected delicious sex!
'Honey...
I can't believe we've been together,
For more than twenty years! '
I know. I know!
I'll iron those curtains,
When I get back home...
Okay?
'Anything for you, dear.
You know that! '
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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A foot soldier
When I was hurt & lost someone dear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the going got tough with nothing to gear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the faith felt small & doubts really bigger
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the sky was dark & nothing seemed near
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the wounds were hurting with no immediate cure
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the hopes were grim & nothing was clear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When storms came hard striking some fear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
I fought & fought & I fought till the victory was sure
Yes, I could do it because I am a foot soldier
poem by Ameya Deshpande

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Left Foot, Right Foot
left foot, right foot,
left foot, right foot,
eyes fixed straight ahead....
drawn by the spectre
of our own greed;
use it up, throw it out,
use it up, throw it out....
hardened and lifeless,
eaten from within
by the maggots of ego...
deaf to the cries
of our own children,
blinded by the 'God'
of cyber technology...
strip the fields,
cut down the forests...
mine the mountains,
we pee in our own
drinking water, and
walk away....
leaving nuclear tracks
in the womb of time.
left foot, right foot,
left foot, right foot...
marching blindly to hell
with drool on our chins!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Man has six organs to serve him and he is master only of three. He cannot control his eye, ear or nose, but he can his mouth, hand and foot.
quote by Leone Levi

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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Ineptness
Carry a big stick,
To threaten from a distance.
Send me pictures of it...
To upset me quick,
With visions I'll be hit with it!
But you'll be wrong wrong.
And I'll be long gone!
Foot power...
Zip.
I like buttered biscuits,
Baked and fresh.
Heated from the oven,
And tasting their best!
You can bring that big stick,
To threaten me with it.
But when I've eaten buttered biscuits,
I'm prepared to split.
Humming a song...
With,
Foot power...zip!
Inept.
Foot power,
Zip!
Ineptness.
Foot power zip!
Inept.
Foot power,
Zip!
Ineptness.
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Foot power zip!
'What is this? '
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Foot power zip!
'What is this? '
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Ineptness!
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)

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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

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Foot On The Path
You say, come over baby, come talk to me
Then you drive me so crazy
I cant hardly see
If this keeps goin on
I might just leave and not come back
I got one foot in your doorway
I got one foot on the path
Well you beg me to stay
Then you order me to go
All this up and down
Is wear and tear on my soul
Im wonderin if our future
Is gonna look just like our past
I got one foot in your doorway
I got one foot on the path
Now I love you, baby
Dont get me wrong
But this heart of mine
May not be that strong
You got me on your line
Reel me in or throw me back
I got one foot in your doorway
I got on foot on the path
Youd best thing about it, baby
But dont take too long
If we cant get it right
Ill just be movin on
I cant wait forever
For us to get this thing on track
I got one foot in your doorway, baby
I got on foot on the path
song performed by by Kenny Wayne Shepherd

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brother The Class Clown!
Brother The Class Clown!
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted May 8 2006
Dedicated To My Brother.
My brother was born an accident!
He was always in accidents.
He burned his hand with a torch
Because he did not look before he was bending,
Just last week working.
He fainted with a swollen head and eyes
at the Air Force base in March,
Because he did not take any allergy medication.
He got a rusty nail in his foot
Because he did not see it.
He walked up a crane and
So he sprang his foot many years ago.
He has a broken nose,
Since I do not know when.
My brother is an accident waiting to happen!
poem by Lori Triggs

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Pick Yer Nose
How come I can pick my ears
but not my nose
who made up that rule anyway
how can you say that's the way it is
that's just the way it goes
why don't you decide for yourself
what you can do
and what you can say
how come I can pick my friends
but not my enemies
what is it about me that offends
what is it about me
'cause you know I'm only five foot two
and I'm giggly wiggly
tell me again
song performed by by Ani DiFranco from Puddle Dive

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

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Dancing the invisible line
Some like to sit on fences, admire the view in safety;
some are born hurdlers; .
draw a line, and some minds shrink back;
others can’t wait to compete, first over wins…
poets, said the sage, should always
walk on the edge of madness…
ah, remember when you were a child,
walking down the path one foot within,
one foot beyond?
‘a line of poetry’…every line, a line,
one foot beyond, one foot within –
prose, verse; rhymed, unrhymed;
metered, unmetered; actual, fantasy;
elevated, jokey; personal, impersonal;
tragic, comic; a road taken, or not taken..
oh, so many lines
that others painted on the road –
dance down that road,
one foot beyond, one foot within..
poem by Michael Shepherd

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The Air is a Root
The air is a root.
The stones are filled with tenderness. bravo.
bravo. the stones are filled with air.
the stones are watery branches.
on the stones replacing the mouth
grows the skeleton of a leaf. bravo.
A stone voice face to face and foot to foot
with a stone glance.
the stones are tormented like flesh
the stones are clouds for their second
nature dances to them on their third nose.
bravo. bravo.
when the stones scratch themselves, nails grow
on the roots. bravo. bravo.
the stones woke to eat the exact
hour
A Sort Of A Poem Upon Arriving At The Mountain Hut
where it is? the native points to the place
using his nose. It is just near he said while chewing his betel nut.
we pass three winding rivers
and five hills on footpaths with mud and grass as tall as us along the way.
we finally arrive at the foot of a hill
below it a nipa hut
there is no one there
i curl up and take my sleep
meanwhile the fog swallows everything
just us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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