This Foul Thing
If something smells very bad around you and you can still not feel it like i do then,
Take it as it is in your own environment! !
But the smell of this foul thing is still around you and in the air!
And many who walk around will surely hold their noses.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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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
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A Sad Story About A Plight Of A Woman On The Other Side Of The World
he is talking to
a woman on the other side of
the world
a world that he cannot
feel
because he never saw
it
neither is the woman
since
she is on the other side
of the world
he was never there
he knows a lot
about her
he was told by so many
who tell him
that she lives with them
for a while
he hears everything about
those foul things about her
but he never smells them
can foul be foul when he only
hears it?
can a sense of smell be simply
heard?
while they were talking on the phone
she hints about how her lover
rejected her
about how her father abused her
how her mother abandoned
all of them
for another man
how their house was foreclosed
and how they have to move
to another place
again and again
how she had to sleep with other men
to make a living
etcetera etcetera
it was a long conversation
and it was then that he felt her
a madness not of her own causing
but of society as a whole
when she was finished
he nodded, for now
he understood.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Take It Over
I know death is taking me over
There is no fun in asking for any cover
It was not this before and never be so
I will pack all my belongings and go
How will that become possible?
Through out life you love had kept me thirsty
You smiled there waiting for an easy entry
Longed for such occasion shrouded under mystery
But what is happening to me?
Why I feel confined and not free?
What smells bad from your lovely talk?
Why my feet crumble and refuse to walk?
Oh God, am I going to be cheated?
Is all these things smell foul or related?
The gentle touch forced me to retaliate
The lovely atmosphere was about to vitiate
Nothing was going to be very good
I sensed her talk as poisoned food
It had no delicious touch and fragrance but a foul smell
Oh it was casting doom and not spelling well
My lips went dry in anticipation
It was dangerous participation
I must say no to overtures
As it might spell doom for sure
Fear grips me for closing eyes
I may see wrong and hear lies
What if I can’t come out of embrace?
Bad consequences and danger in such case
I forgot about romantic death
I shivered and wanted shower or bath
I was sweating with compete fear
How much agony and pain I have to bear?
I pushed him back and turned at wall
It was out right refusal for bad call
I slammed the door and showed the exit
The scene was dreadful and can’ be considered as fit
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I Like Smells
i like smells...
woodsmoke, and food,
black coffee in the morning.
the smell of rain,
of mud, of wetness.
the smell of the walls
of the cave, of the stone,
of the moss...
the smell of sex, of arousal,
of a woman's neck.
the smell of pine needles,
of an old house,
of fresh turned earth...
the smell of old books,
of old dogs, of shadows
without form...
i've even become accustomed
to the smell of death!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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My Waterloo
I came a long long way from home
I travelled far just to be here today
Across an endless sea of salty tears
Behind the divided line of eighteen years
You gotta walk that road alone
You gotta walk that lonely
I wear my heart out on my sleeve
A sight you surely must have spied by now
I admit that I dont even know your name
I feel like I could know you all the same
Are you gonna walk that road with me sometime
Or is it gonna be that lonely
Are you gonna walk that road with me this time
Dont make me be that lonely
Its still no easy thing to hold your head up high
When every time you turn around
Somebody kicks your statue down
I tried my best to hold my ground
I swore Id never let it be this way
But now I broke my sword, dropped my gun
Just like some tragic beat napoleon
Now I gotta walk that road again
Now I gotta walk that lonely
Now I gotta walk that road one time
Now I gotta be that lonely
What with no better way to go
As long as Im still kicking that gong around
I see this time I met my match in you
I know now that you are my waterloo
My waterloo
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Grass Smells Red
The grass smells red.
Untill these mortal bounds find thier way into the catostrophic fire's of love and redemption, the grass will smell red.
The grass tells a story of wars unsung and battles lost.
The grass tells a story of love gained and a fury found again.
The grass smells red...but does it speak?
Does it's voice ring out like the bells in a steeple?
Does it feel the pain of those who died?
Did it hear the screams?
The grass smells red and it grow's red.
It feels red.
This grass will die red.
poem by Troy Nichols
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Walk Away
They say love will win in the end
Hold him close and surely hell be
What if its heartaches break you again
Walk away, baby, walk away.
It takes more than just one to provide
Why forgive him just to keep it alive
'Cause when its hurts are done, cry out this time
Just walk away, baby, walk away.
Think of me once in a while
I held this old dream, you see
And theres a path that leads to my door
And a home for a refugee.
Dont feel guilty for foolish desires
It aint easy to drown a fierce fire
Cry will lead you to something much higher
Walk away, baby, walk away.
And darling, please, forget me not
Bring out your tears to me
'Cause through the years I never spoke out
And finally Im begging, please.
If he cries out, love me once more
Just turn around, go on and open the door
Save your dream, score the one you adore
And walk away, baby, walk away.
Walk away, baby, walk away
Just walk away, baby, walk away...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mariner
he violet scent is sacred
Like dreams of angels bright;
The hawthorn smells of passion
Told in a moonless night.
But the smell is in my nostrils,
Through blossoms red or gold,
Of my own green flower unfading,
A bitter smell and bold.
The lily smells of pardon,
The rose of mirth; but mine
Smells shrewd of death and honour,
And the doom of Adam's line.
The heavy scent of wine-shops
Floats as I pass them by,
But never a cup I quaff from,
And never a house have I.
Till dropped down forty fathoms,
I lie eternally;
And drink from God's own goblet
The green wine of the sea.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When a baby comes you can smell two things: the smell of flesh, which smells like chicken soup, and the smell of lilies, the flower of another garden, the spiritual garden.
quote by Carlos Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The smells of Football
Football has it's own smells
from the grass on the pitch
to the aroma from the Hot Dog stalls.
In the dressing room there's sweat
strong odour coming from ointments
being rubbed into aching muscles.
On the terraces you smell beer
years ago there was tobacco too
on Boxing Day the whiff of cigar smoke.
As a boy my mothers washing powder
making my kit smell nice and fresh
and getting rid of mud and grass stains.
The smell of leather of a new pair
of football boots and new ball
and layers of thick black polish.
At the half-time break in a match
onto the field came a large tray
full of sweet smelling and tasty Oranges.
These are the smells of Football
the odours of the Beautiful game
and for some the sweet smell of success.
poem by Kevin Halls
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The Thought Of Being Heard
Should I spare you the agony,
Of believing there is a need for your response?
There isn't.
As long as we keep between us,
This rare eye contact...
I will remain appreciative of that.
Since...
I am accustomed to communicating with those,
Who scan anyone from head to toe.
And those who don't have turned up noses,
As they walk down the streets...
Often talk to me standing sideways,
With their eyes staring at my feet.
As if my voice is coming from any place other,
Than my mouth.
With the aid of using my lips and teeth!
However...
The people living in my environment,
Are more prepared to gossip...
Than they are to have a one on one.
Something that is meaningly done.
And having this eye contact you give me,
Makes me feel you understand.
And you don't have to say a word.
It's just the thought of being heard,
That has been worth this entire experience.
Thank you!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Looking Down Their Nose
There are people the world over
whom think they are better
than everyone.
They’ve got a good education
so they look down on those who haven’t.
I feel sorry for those
they look down their noses at.
One day one of those people
they think lower than them
may just become their boss
and then what would they do.
Grovel on their hands and knees,
their better education
won’t hold much credence then.
They’ll have to look
towards their personality,
but if the person in charge is one of those,
they’ve looked their noses on.
They won’t be able to use it there,
as they will see right through it
at what you really are.
Before you ever look down your nose at anyone.
It might be wise
to think before you act,
for that person may well one day
just happen to be your boss.
6 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Wish it is Funny
funny thing, i can still feel the touch of the scattered petals, white roses with red ones
funny thing, i can still hear the coo of the turle doves freed, flying high
funny thing, i can still see the golden sun slowly sinks under wide ocean
funny thing, i can still taste the sweet yet semi dry wine, passionately aromatic
funny thing, i can still smell your citrus-minty scent, soothing my senses
funny yet unfair
everything i feel, hear, see, taste, smell accompanies YOU
everything i feel, hear, see, taste, smell symbolizes you
everything that i feel, hear, see, taste, smell is not funny at all
it is bringing me black smoky background
it is bringing me delusions and hallucinations
it is bringing me confusion
funny but wish it is fair
dainty as the roses
free as the turtledoves flying nowhere
golden as the sun collided under the wide ocean
passionate as the wine
citrus-minty as your scent
wish it is
funny
poem by Shelomith Noarbe
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~ Smell ~
I want to
Smell you
Inside out
To see
If your
Smells…
Smell of
Me.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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All I Ask
Stumbling down a road lined with signs
It's obvious I'm in the wrong direction
But I won't stop now you know I feel fine
Just looking for some affection
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
I figure it won't be long it won't be hard
Just gotta get my feet back on the ground
Just gotten a hold of some unlucky cards
And I have yet to make another round
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
No one lent a hand, no one laid a look upon me
Invisible to everything but blame
No, and no one cared to tell, no one dared to believe in anything
And left me to drown in this pain
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gargoyles
Pet gargoyles grunt and snore and cough,
But sadly you can't turn them off!
The belch and wheeze and sneeze and spit,
I cannot bear the thought of it!
They slurp and burp, they howl and growl,
They moan and groan; they smell so foul!
Gargoyles gargle, and pass lots of gas,
Their gas it smells like sassafras!
If you get a gargoyle have no fear...
From their FARTS you can make root-beer!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Dear all poem lovers
Dear all
Thanks a lot to you for having chosen to read this. I know very well that as a poem lover, you will be a nature lover too. You will also appreciate that all of us need to turn environment-friendly for sustenance and continuance of our very existence.
This is not a poem or poetic impression, but a request to you to contribute your bit on the occasion of World Environment Day, which falls on 5th June 2010 (for that matter each year) .
This year let us observe, rather not celebrate, World Environment Day.
Let us resolve to restrict the use of all natural non-renewable resources, especially the fuel resource.
As a sequel to this resolution, let us undertake a walk for at least 15 minutes anytime between 8.00 am and 10.00 am on 5th June 2010, a Saturday. We will walk with a pinned up message as shown below
WALK
YOUR
WAY
TODAY
WORLD
ENVIRONMENT
DAY
on an A4 size paper on your front and back in your streets or roads demonstrating your concern for environment. You need not be in groups and there need not be any slogans, just a silent walk. I would even suggest that this be done when you leave home for market, for leaving children in school, for ATM, for that matter any walk with a defined destination and a planned purpose.
You demonstrate this to show that you will not miss opportunities to walk walkable distances and to cut short the consumption of oil resources. The other purpose you serve by the display is that you are reminding others also of the importance of World Environment Day.
You may enlarge your commitment, if possible, by not using your petrol or diesel driven vehicles during 8.00 am to 10.00 am on that day.
This is posted well in advance so that, if convinced with the idea, you may like to propagate the same, and bring in a lot of people in this silent way of observing World Environment.
Thanks.
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Smells Like
if your heart
smells like my feet,
then the time
is not in vain.
we lose years
in moments of burden...
painting stars
on a ceiling
sure to fall!
if my feet
smell like prayers,
then god should know
the way, and have the key.
if the door
smells like you...
then we'll both wait
outside in the rain!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Bewteen You and Me: I
An abstract evening
Lungs drew in
The smell of dusk:
Vehicular exhaust
Fuming oil
And extra brewed tea too
On the side walk
You allowed me to hold your hand
We jumped from one side walk to the other
Won't you hold mine, I asked
But I allowed you to hold mine...
You replied contemplating
Your next step...
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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