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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Related quotes
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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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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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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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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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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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)
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Report Of An Adjudged Case
Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose,
The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,
To which the said spectacles ought to belong.
So the Tongue was the Lawyer and argued the cause
With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning,
While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws,
So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.
In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear,
And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find,
That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear,
Which amounts to possession time out of mind.
Then holding the spectacles up to the court, -
Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle,
As wide as the ridge of the Nose is, in short,
Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.
Again, would your lordship a moment suppose
('Tis a case that has happened and may be again),
That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,
Pray who would or who could wear spectacles then?
On the whole it appears, and my argument shows
With a reasoning the court will never condemn,
That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,
And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.
Then shifting his side, as a lawyer knows how,
He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes,
But what were his arguments few people know,
For the court did not think they were equally wise.
So his lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone,
Decisive and clear, without on if or but, -
That whenever the Nose put his spectacles on,
By daylight or candlelight - Eyes should be shut.
poem by William Cowper
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Growing up I felt like my nose was big. I was always like, 'I'm going to get a nose job one day'. I'm glad I didn't.
quote by Ashlee Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whats New, Pussycat?
Whats new pussycat? woah, woah
Whats new pussycat? woah, woah
Pussycat, pussycat
Ive got flowers
And lots of hours
To spend with you.
So go and powder your cute little pussycat nose!
Pussycat, pussycat
I love you
Yes, I do!
You and your pussycat nose!
Whats new pussycat? woah, woah
Whats new pussycat? woah, woah
Pussycat, pussycat
Youre so thrilling
And Im so willing
To care for you.
So go and make up your cute little pussycat face!
Pussycat, pussycat
I love you
Yes, I do!
You and your pussycat face!
Whats new pussycat? woah, woah
Whats new pussycat? woah, woah
Pussycat, pussycat
Youre delicious
And if my wishes
Can all come true
Ill soon be kissing your sweet little pussycat lips!
Pussycat, pussycat
I love you
Yes, I do!
You and your pussycat lips!
You and your pussycat eyes!
You and your pussycat nose!
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why The Red Nose Rudolph?
His nose lights St. Nick’s sleigh
This intrepid reindeer leader
Helps his fellows find their way
It’s said, he’s an under achiever
You ask, “Why is his nose so red? ”
Is that whiskey under his bridle?
Is drinking why his eyes are red?
We must find out, not stand idle
Perhaps it’s time to notify AA
Get Rudy help for reckless drinking
We, his many fans can't be blasé
While this reindeer’s life is sinking!
We must not hold Santa to blame
Lest he and Rudolph share a jug
For it would be a downright shame
To see them drinking “chug-a-lug”
Sorry for our doubt dear Rudy
It’s Santa’s reputation we protect
We’re just performing civic duty
We really meant no disrespect
Shine on our bright red nose friend
We’ll watch the skies till you ascend
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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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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Domesticated Animals
Chastised defiance to inflict punishment.
To give a consent...
To those who abuse the first amendment,
With a contempt.
That is meant.
Chastised defiance to inflict punishment.
To give a consent...
To those who abuse the first amendment,
With a contempt.
That is meant.
The bold are duly noted,
For attempts to smooth the road.
But domesticated animals,
Are dumping smelly loads...
With a turned up nose.
Chastised defiance to inflict punishment.
To give a consent...
To those who abuse the first amendment,
With a contempt.
That is meant.
And exploding with their codes,
As a defense.
And exploding with their codes,
With a contempt.
That is meant.
Chastised defiance to inflict punishment.
To give a consent...
To those who abuse the first amendment,
With a contempt.
That is meant...
And with minds bent!
The bold are duly noted,
For attempts to smooth the road.
But domesticated animals,
Are dumping smelly loads...
With a turned up nose.
And exploding with their codes,
As a defense.
And exploding with their codes,
With a contempt.
That is meant.
And proving they can dump their decadence,
To offend.
Domesticated animals,
Are dumping smelly loads...
With a turned up nose.
And proving they can dump their decadence,
To offend.
That is meant...
With a contempt.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ballade Of Modest Confession
My reading is extremely deep and wide;
And as our modern education goes—
Unique I think, and skilfully applied
To Art and Industry and Autres Choses
Through many years of scholarly repose.
But there is one thing where I disappoint
My numerous admirers (and my foes).
Painting on Vellum is my weakest point.
I ride superbly. When I say I 'ride'
The word's too feeble. I am one of those
That dominate a horse. It is my pride
To tame the fiercest with tremendous blows
Of heel and knee. The while my handling shows
Such lightness as a lady's. But Aroint
Thee! Human frailty with thy secret woes!
Painting on Vellum is my weakest point.
Painting on Vellum: not on silk or hide
Or ordinary Canvas: I suppose
No painter of the present day has tried
So many mediums with success, or knows
As well as I do how the subject grows
Beneath the hands of genius, that anoint
With balm. But I have something to disclose—
Painting on Vellum is my weakest point.
Envoi
Prince! do not let your Nose, your royal Nose,
Your large imperial Nose get out of Joint.
For though you cannot touch my golden Prose,
Painting on Vellum is my weakest point.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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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
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Tom's Little Dog
Tom told his dog called Tim to beg,
And up at once he sat,
His two clear amber eyes fixed fast,
His haunches on his mat.Tom poised a lump of sugar on
His nose; then, "Trust!" says he;
Stiff as a guardsman sat his Tim;
Never a hair stirred he.
"Paid for!" says Tom; and in a trice
Up jerked that moist black nose;
A snap of teeth, a crunch, a munch,
And down the sugar goes!
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Father William
A NEW VERSION BY LEE O. HARRIS AND JAMES
WHITCOMB RILEY
'You are old, Father William, and though one would think
All the veins in your body were dry,
Yet the end of your nose is red as a pink;
I beg your indulgence, but why?'
'You see,' Father William replied, 'in my youth--
'Tis a thing I must ever regret--
It worried me so to keep up with the truth
That my nose has a flush on it yet.'
'You are old,' said the youth, 'and I grieve to detect
A feverish gleam in your eye;
Yet I'm willing to give you full time to reflect.
Now, pray, can you answer me why?'
'Alas,' said the sage, 'I was tempted to choose
Me a wife in my earlier years,
And the grief, when I think that she didn't refuse,
Has reddened my eyelids with tears.'
'You are old, Father William,' the young man said,
'And you never touch wine, you declare,
Yet you sleep with your feet at the head of the bed;
Now answer me that if you dare.'
'In my youth,' said the sage, 'I was told it was true,
That the world turned around in the night;
I cherished the lesson, my boy, and I knew
That at morning my feet would be right.'
'You are old,' said the youth, 'and it grieved me to note,
As you recently fell through the door,
That 'full as a goose' had been chalked on your coat;
Now answer me that I implore.'
'My boy,' said the sage, 'I have answered you fair,
While you stuck to the point in dispute,
But this is a personal matter, and there
Is my answer--the toe of my boot.'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Barbie Doll
This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.
She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant sexual drive and manual dexterity.
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.
She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle.
Her good nature wore out
like a fan belt.
So she cut off her nose and her legs
and offered them up.
In the casket displayed on satin she lay
with the undertaker's cosmetics painted on,
a turned-up putty nose,
dressed in a pink and white nightie.
Doesn't she look pretty? everyone said.
Consummation at last.
To every woman a happy ending.
poem by Marge Piercy
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There was an Old Man, on whose nose,
Most birds of the air could repose;
But they all flew away
At the closing of day,
Which relieved that Old Man and his nose.
quote by by Edward Lear
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Limitations Of Freedom
fling your arms
i keep my nose
the freedom of your hands
end
where my nose
begins
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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