Just a few of the things...
Just a few of the things… I miss most of all
Roman candles
Juicyfruit gum from mom’s purse
Cordite smell of a 12 gauge
First ride in a convertible
Hayrides in the Fall
Skippin’ rocks on still water
Leaves burnin’ in street gutters
The smell of freshly baked bread
New clothes from Sears and Roebucks
Seein’ Checker cabs
Beer barrels being rolled into bar’s basements
Sparks from Trolley bus wires
Ohio river ferryboats
Visitin’ relatives deep in Kentucky
Them sayin’ “come back y’all”
John Deeres chugging in the distance
Foggy morning’s
Runnin’ trotlines on the Lickin’ river
Ol’ black cars with luggage racks on back
My dad’s exhaled smoke (from unfiltered Camels)
Lionel trains
Playin’ king-of-the- hill
Lickin’ cream off milk lids
Tadpoles
Watchin’ lightning
Friendly hugs
Lightbugs in bottles
Trust in people
Baseball games on big Emerson radios
Unlocked doors…open windows
Piano scales being played in the distance
Summer nights… and sparklers
Matinees and popcorn
White castles and Cincinnati chili
Goetta
The Island Queen steamboat and it’s calliope
Coney Island and Lesourdsville
My ol’ library
Eating “Blind Robins” in neighborhood bars
The smell of Neatsfoot oil
Old neighborhood delicatessens
Inclines
Warm cashews
Stealin’ watermelons
Puttin’ pins in doorbells
Soapin’ windows
Thinking’ I looked good
Girls that thought I did
Not knowin’ what my mom and dad did know
And of things I miss most of all……..
Innocence in all things great and small
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
That Smell
Whiskey bottles, and brand new cars
Oak tree you're in my way
There's too much coke and too much smoke
Look what's going on inside you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Angel of darkness is upon you
Stuck a needle in your arm
So take another toke, have a blow for your nose
One more drink fool, will drown you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Now they call you Prince Charming
Can't speak a word when you're full of 'ludes
Say you'll be all right come tomorrow
But tomorrow might not be here for you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Hey, you're a fool you
Stick them needles in your arm
I know I been there before
One little problem that confronts you
Got a monkey on your back
Just one more fix, Lord might do the trick
One hell of a price for you to get your kicks
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Ooooh that smell
Can't you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
song performed by by 3 Doors Down
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bone To Bone
Flatbush boy cruisin' sheepshead bay
His boardwalk mama just a sniff away
Underground dmt, ridin' thunder train
The cone island white fish boy is on the run again
Oh, runnin' with the pack
Oh, never lookin' back
Oh, know just where he's been
That coney island white fish boy's
Been there and back again
Sixteen years with his boardwalk queen
And at steeplechase, she used to wet his dreams
She combs her hair, that flamin' jewel
Streaked with clorox bleach
Coney gettin' down and dirty
Snortin' up the beach
She'd be screamin' (coney)
She'd be screamin' (coney)
Go get 'em coney
(coney), bone to bone screamin'
(coney) she be screamin' (coney)
Get down
Get back in town
Get back, get down
Get back in town
Get back, get down
Coney!
She'd be screamin' (coney)
Best believe it (coney)
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Smell
(allen collins - ronnie vanzant)
Whiskey bottles, and brand new cars
Oak tree youre in my way
Theres too much coke and too much smoke
Look whats going on inside you
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Angel of darkness is upon you
Stuck a needle in your arm
So take another toke, have a blow for your nose
One more drink fool, will drown you
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Now they call you prince charming
Cant speak a word when youre full of ludes
Say youll be all right come tomorrow
But tomorrow might not be here for you
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Hey, youre a fool you
Stick them needles in your arm
I know I been there before
One little problem that confronts you
Got a monkey on your back
Just one more fix, lord might do the trick
One hell of a price for you to get your kicks
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
Ooooh that smell
Cant you smell that smell
Ooooh that smell
The smell of death surrounds you
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rainy day...
Rainy day
Cool evening
Porch sitting
Unusual for mid August.
Where is the usual summer evening traffic?
My thoughts drift
into my childhood past.
They come up blank
and I simply do not recall
what I did on summer evenings like this.
I just remember –
the smell of freshly cut grass
the catching of lightening bugs
devouring Good Humor ice cream
friends trying to invite themselves
into my backyard pool
playing a game called “Murder In The Dark”
in the backyard of the house across the street
when the sun went down.
I wonder
what summer evening games
the kids in my old neighborhood play now.
I wonder where
the kids I played with are now.
Should I visit the old neighborhood,
will I find our childhood spirits
still running around the streets?
Bone To Bone (Coney Island White Fish Boy)
Aerosmith
Bone To Bone
underground DMT ridin' thunder train
the coney island whitefish boy is on the run again
ooh, runnin' with the pack
ooh, and never lookin' back
ooh, and knows just where he's been
that coney island whitefish boy's been there and back again
sixteen years with his boardwalk queen
and at steeplechase she used to wet his dreams
she combs her hair, that flaming jewel, streaked with clorox bleach
coney gettin' down and dirty, snortin' up the beach
she'd be screamin' coney
she'd be dreamin' coney
go get 'em coney
coney
bone to bone screamin' coney
she'd be screamin' coney
get back in town
get back, get down
get back, get down
get back in town
coney
she'd be screamin' coney
best believin' coney
she stood up and walked away
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Think I Smell A Rat
Oh I think I smell a rat
I think I smell a rat
all you little kids
seem to think you know
just where it's at
I think I smell a rat
walking down the street
carrying a baseball bat
I think I smell a rat
Oh I think I smell a rat
I think I smell a rat
all you little kids
seem to think you know
just where is at
I think I smell a rat
treating your mother and father
like a welcome mat
I think I smell a rat
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lichtenberg
(New South Wales Contingent)
Smells are surer than sounds or sights
To make your heart-strings crack--
They start those awful voices o' nights
That whisper, " Old man, come back! "
That must be why the big things pass
And the little things remain,
Like the smell of the wattle by Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain.
There was some silly fire on the flank
And the small wet drizzling down--
There were the sold-out shops and the bank
And the wet, wide-open town;
And we were doing escort-duty
To somebody's baggage-train,
And I smelt wattle by Lichtenberg--
Riding in, in the rain.
It was all Australia to me--
All I had found or missed:
Every face I was crazy to see,
And every woman I'd kissed:
All that I should n't ha' done, God knows!
(As He knows I'll do it again),
That smell of the wattle round Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain!
And I saw Sydney the same as ever,
The picnics and brass-bands;
And my little homestead on Hunter River
And my new vines joining hands.
It all came over me in one act
Quick as a shot through the brain--
With the smell of the wattle round Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain.
I have forgotten a hundred fights,
But one I shall not forget--
With the raindrops bunging up my sights
And my eyes bunged up with wet;
And through the crack and the stink of the cordite
(Ah Christ! My country again!)
The smell of the wattle by Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coney Island Steeplechase
Would you like to go on the Coney Island Steeple
Go and have a good time
We'll take the subway right down to King's Highway
Gonna have a good time
If it's all right it would be so nice
If you come and go with me
The roller-coaster you and me
Just try
Would you like to go on the Coney Island Steeple
Go and have a good time
Like a sister and brother we'll cling to each other
When they find out their parents aren't there
Oh it'd be so nice
Like choco with ice
Oh if you come and go with me
How nice it would be
Don't be so shy
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday
Maybe not Friday
Saturday, Sunday
Coney Island, Coney Island, Coney Island
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The House Of Sin...
sin closes all
the windows and
doors
seals any
entrance of
streaks of
light
the foul smell
does not know how
to stay
the smoke of sin
roams around the house
until it finds
an exit on the
chimney
there is no scream
but the whole
neighborhood sees
and finds
you...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Right Across The River Bend
Right across the river bend there’s a warm gentle breeze.
Right across the river-bend are trees with yellow leaves.
Right across the river bend the water reflects the sun.
Right across the river bend is a smell of innocence.
Right across the river bend a robin’s egg is broken.
Right across the river-bend are peaceful mountain valleys.
Right across the river bend a dandelion is carried.
Right across the river bend are fields of shiny green grass.
Right across the riverbend are memories made to last.
poem by Alicia Page
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ignorance drowned me
his ill gotten wealth
the party splashes
the flashy cars,
all things go dinners,
the champagne, the
businesswomen,
sycophants, the
rowdiness
the smell of decadence
the smell of perversity
cronyists despots
all that i can take
it is the smell of ignorance
the lack of knowledge,
of the arts, of literature,
of things that really prop up
the mind, soul and the world
that really drown me
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good 'ol summer days (god, I love 'em)
Good ‘Ol Summer Days
Fireworks, hot dogs, hide and seek in the dark
Slope shouldered willow tree, by the lake in the park
Lightning bugs rising, living sparks in the skies
Prisms of light, reflected in toddler’s amazed eyes
Sausage and burgers, hickory smoke and barbecue smells
Ripe barnyard odors, sounds of far-off church bells
Redolent richness of honey locust, saturates summer air
Summery scents, like bramble burrs, seemingly glued in ‘lil girls hair
Short lives of dainty mayflies, mating dance o’er slow muddy rivers
Skinny dips, swimming holes, warm winds, goose- bumpy shivers
Coppertone lotion, peeling nose, wraparound sunglasses
Hangin out at the library, summer-school catch-up classes
Clatter of sticks on white picket fences, Playin cards chatter on bicycle spokes
‘lil boys making noise, wooden swords, and vicious dragon slayin strokes
Iron tastin water from galvanized dippers
Haircuts on back porches, dad’s ‘ol hand snippers
Tick adorned hound dog, asleep in the shade
Lightning and thunder, kids and cats, all afraid
Carnivals, ferris wheels, tilt a whirls, cotton candy
Sweet applesauce, tart apple cider, piquant peach brandy
Meanderin, mossy, frog filled lil creeks, one lane, rust brushed bridges
Water snakes, tadpoles and crawdads, a million pesky midges
Wasps, paper nests, tucked up tight under eaves
Shorts, no socks, workmen sweatin, rolled up sleeves
Daylight stayin out late, morning light comin real early
Dogs wriggling on backs, not chasin nothing, just actin squirrelly
Stomp the ground, listen close, hear earthworms hiss into holes
Pillowly soft grass, raised ridges, tunnels excavated by moles
Frisky dogs catchin Frisbees, aluminum baseball bats a’clinkin
Warm cow manure smell, road kill possum and skunk a’stinkin
Cane pole, fishin hole, homemade cork bobber
Neighbor’s Saint Bernard, droopy jaws drippin slobber
Well tended gardens, watermelon wine
The scaling of trellis by morning glory vine
Chigger bites itchin from blackberry pickin
Kids clownish red mouths from popsicle lickin
Mud puddles, barefeet, squishy mud between toes
Bumblebees, moon glow and perfect rainbows
Sleepy dogs, cryin kids, fields of blue and white clover
Strange ‘lil spiders on silken threads flyin over
Soul caressing, sultry, and soft summer nights
Poison ivy, sun burn blisters and itchy skeeter bites
Tranquil murmurs of turtle doves, piercing calls of brassy blue jay
Hangin ricks of golden tobacco, smell of new mown timothy hay
Do you miss, as much as I do… those good ‘ol summer days?
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Song of Quoodle
They haven't got no noses,
The fallen sons of Eve;
Even the smell of roses
Is not what they supposes;
But more than mind discloses
And more than men believe.
They haven't got no noses,
They cannot even tell
When door and darkness closes
The park a Jew encloses,
Where even the law of Moses
Will let you steal a smell.
The brilliant smell of water,
The brave smell of a stone,
The smell of dew and thunder,
The old bones buried under,
Are things in which they blunder
And err, if left alone.
The wind from winter forests,
The scent of scentless flowers,
The breath of brides' adorning,
The smell of snare and warning,
The smell of Sunday morning,
God gave to us for ours
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And Quoodle here discloses
All things that Quoodle can,
They haven't got no noses,
They haven't got no noses,
And goodness only knowses
The Noselessness of Man.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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New Girl Smell
Houses like limpid shells,
So limpid, smell and taste like their
Previous masters,
Like girls so god-d-mned old;
They no longer smell of the sea
Before it might have been the sea, but of
The wash basins and jet fuel;
They don’t smell like swing sets anymore,
But their daughters are still arcing in
Sunlight:
Their daughters are real play- Just these
Things: believe me, you don’t understand,
Not even if you think you got it on
The tip of your tongue:
Pretty little girls sandcastles, spider-flume,
Arcing in the breaks of God,
But if you lay a hand on them, corrupted:
He will leave them,
This jealously abstaining bachelor:
He will just get on his bike and ride away into
A greener neighborhood;
And all the little girls you’ve seen will settle down
From play.
They will either graduate high school, or
They will not: making love in newer beds further up,
Or their own,
But they will live in their new masters’ homes,
Like dogs’ houses, enchained, washing dishes,
Pulling out laundry like the guts of game,
No longer smelling like how you left them; but of
The dry-walled shells, shellacked,
Landscaped by palms, as with her shampooed pubis;
and though the house
Is beautiful, she goes all day weeping with it
On her back; shopping,
Drinking with her enslaved sororities as if drinking alone,
Never to smell like god, like nothing, ever.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cities
Think of london, a small city
Its dark, dark in the daytime
The people sleep, sleep in the daytime
If they want to, if they want to
Chorus
Im checking them out
Im checking them out
I got it figured out
I got it figured out
Theres good points and bad points
Find a city
Find myself a city to live in.
There are a lot of rich people in birmingham
A lot of ghosts in a lot of houses
Look over there!...a dry ice factory
A good place to get some thinking done
Down el paso way things get pretty spread out
People got no idea where in the world they are
They go up north and come back south
Still got no idea where in the world they are.
Did I forget to mention, to mention memphis
Home of elvis and the ancient greeks
Do I smell? I smell home cooking
Its only the river, its only the river.
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coney Island
Coming down from downpatrick
Stopping off at st. johns point
Out all day birdwatching
And the craic was good
Stopped off at strangford lough
Early in the morning
Drove through shrigley taking pictures
And on to killyleagh
Stopped off for sunday papers at the
Lecale district, just before coney island
On and on, over the hill to ardglass
In the jamjar, autumn sunshine, magnificent
And all shining through
Stop off at ardglass for a couple of jars of
Mussels and some potted herrings in case
We get famished before dinner
On and on, over the hill and the craic is good
Heading towards coney island
I look at the side of your face as the sunlight comes
Streaming through the window in the autumn sunshine
And all the time going to coney island Im thinking,
Wouldnt it be great if it was like this all the time.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song of Quoodle
They haven't got no noses,
The fallen sons of Eve;
Even the smell of roses
Is not what they supposes;
But more than mind discloses
And more than men believe.
They haven't got no noses,
They cannot even tell
When door and darkness closes
The park a Jew encloses,
Where even the law of Moses
Will let you steal a smell.
The brilliant smell of water,
The brave smell of a stone,
The smell of dew and thunder,
The old bones buried under,
Are things in which they blunder
And err, if left alone.
The wind from winter forests,
The scent of scentless flowers,
The breath of brides' adorning,
The smell of snare and warning,
The smell of Sunday morning,
God gave to us for ours
*
And Quoodle here discloses
All things that Quoodle can,
They haven't got no noses,
They haven't got no noses,
And goodness only knowses
The Noselessness of Man.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Apartment.
My apartment she said is not
That big and not in a state I’d
Like you to see but give me
Time and I’ll tidy it up and put
Away the books and papers
Scattered over the floor and table
And put all my clothes and smalls
Away and hey open up the windows
To let in fresh air to let out the smell
Of cigarettes and the cat I keep after
Finding it by the trash and it looked
So sad and unkempt and you said sure
Whenever you like wondering what
She did all day while not out at work
And if she kept the cat in bed with her
And had cat’s hairs everywhere and
How could she live in that untidiness
And come to think of it she did have
That catty smell when you stood next
To her in the lobby and yet you couldn’t
Help being attracted to her couldn’t help
Wanting to just plant a kiss on that cheek
Of hers and maybe get her into bed for
Sex then she said you must come over
And listen to my jazz records and maybe
Meet my mother and if you don’t mind
Her passing wind occasionally we could
All have a good time and all of a sudden
You remembered you had to be out of
Town for a while and maybe after the Fall
You uttered with an awkward smile and
She smiled back and pushed her fingers
Through her hair (unbrushed and tied back
With a blue ribbon) all long and black.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is Late
it is late and the sun is setting
the orange and red are diminishing
the blackness spreads like a diffusion
of our sorrow and pain
soon there will be the closing of the windows
of the house
the locking of doors of the ground floors
and some prayers mumbled from lips
to lighted candles on altars of saints
and angels
soon there will be stories
from mother
and songs too
and then in the quiet
of the stars and the moon and the sky
soon there will
be sleep
under white mosquito nets
the light from the lamp
is blown away
and we smell the smoke
coming from the
loved ones
long dead
we end the games that we play
and we are silent
we yawn and close our eyes
and now ready
as we enter the doors of
our dreams
in there
there may be chases and running too
i am sure somehow we just take a look
unspeakably
things are hazy and we do not remember
anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In passing
In Passing
I really do miss you...
And all the little things you do...
I really
Do miss you.
I smelt a walker by's perfume
The scent reminded me of your own
So went to check to see if...
I had a message on my phone.
Damn! I do miss you...
How crazy is that?
I miss you, I miss you..yet.
In a distance I heard a familar voice
Ran closer to see if it were you
You calling out to me
I really do hear you and see you
From time to time
I know damn well I ain't blind
And my hearing is fine.
A woman smiled at me today
I smiled back as I walked away
Took that second look...
Her style of dress put a tear in my eye,
At that distance you cloud have said, Hi!
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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