I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes
I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes,
For that's where my intellect shows.
And as for my hair,
Do you think I should care
To comb it at night with my toes?
I'd rather have ears than a nose,
I'd rather have fingers than toes,
But as for my hair:
I'm glad it's all there;
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.
I wish that my Room had a Floor;
I don't so much care for a Door,
But this walking around
Without touching the ground
Is getting to be quite a bore!
poem by Gelett Burgess
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Related quotes
Nonsense Verses
1
THE Window has Four little Panes:
But One have I;
The Window-Panes are in its sash,—
I wonder why!
2
My Feet they haul me 'round the House:
They hoist me up the Stairs;
I only have to steer them and
They ride me everywheres.
3
Remarkable truly, is Art!
See—Elliptical wheels on a Cart!
It looks very fair
In the Picture up there;
But imagine the Ride when you start!
4
[Pg 58]I'd rather have fingers than Toes;
I'd rather have Ears than a Nose:
And as for my hair,
I'm glad it's all there,
I'll be awfully sad when it goes!
5
I wish that my Room had a floor;
I don't so much care for a Door,
But this walking around
Without touching the ground
Is getting to be quite a bore!
poem by Gelett Burgess
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On Digital Extremities
I'd Rather have Fingers than Toes;
I'd Rather have Ears than a Nose;
And As for my Hair,
I'm Glad it's All There;
I'll be Awfully Sad, when it Goes!
poem by Gelett Burgess
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Sand-Between-The-Toes
I went down to the shouting sea,
Taking Christopher down with me,
For Nurse had given us sixpence each-
And down we went to the beach.
We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,
And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is certain of
Sand-between-the-toes.
The sea was galloping grey and white;
Christopher clutched his sixpence tight;
We clambered over the humping sand-
And Christopher held my hand.
We had sand in the eyes and the ears and the nose,
And sand in the hair, and sand-between-the-toes.
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is certain of
Sand-between-the-toes.
There was a roaring in the sky;
The sea-gulls cried as they blew by;
We tried to talk, but had to shout-
Nobody else was out.
When we got home, we had sand in the hair,
In the eyes and the ears and everywhere;
Whenever a good nor'wester blows,
Christopher is found with
Sand-between-the-toes.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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The Floorless Room
I Wish that my Room had a Floor!
I don't so Much Care for a Door,
But this Crawling Around
Without Touching the Ground
Is Getting to be Quite a Bore!
poem by Gelett Burgess
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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 Boy's Trials
When I was but a little lad
One thing I could not bear,
It was to stand at mother's knee
And have her comb my hair.
They didn't keep boys' hair as short
As it's kept now-a-days,
And mine was always tangled up
In twenty different ways.
I'd twist my mouth and grit my teeth,
And say it wasn't fair-
It was a trial, and no mistake,
When mother combed my hair.
She'd brush and brush each stubborn curl
That grew upon my pate,
And with her scissors nip and clip
To make the edges straight.
Then smooth it down until it shone,
While I would grin and bear,
And feel a martyr through and through,
When mother combed my hair.
She'd take my round chin in her hand
And hold it there the while
She made the parting carefully,
Then tell me with a smile:
'Don't push your cap down on your curls
And spoil my work and care;
He is a pretty little lad
When mother combs his hair.'
I'd hurry out and rumple up
That mop of hair so thick-
A vandal, I, for she had worked
So hard to make it slick-
And wish I were a grown-up man
So nobody would dare
To put a washrag in my ears,
Or comb my tangled hair.
Heigho! now that I'm bald and gray,
Methinks I would be glad
To have her smooth my brow and cheeks,
And whisper, 'Mother's lad!'
A longing for the care-free days
Doth take me unaware;
To stand, a boy, at mother's knee
And have her comb my hair.
poem by Jean Blewett
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Combing My Hair
Now people always come around
But they don't always stick around
I run a comb across my head
I wish my hair would settle down
The clock I see is running slow
The batteries are running low
I run a comb across my head
And it feels the same like it did before
You're just another first footer across my door
And little less care (hair?) than I had last year
But it doesn't worry me because I
I have no fear
Here
The car I see is painted black
I'm steering (staring) at the driver's back
He runs a comb across his head
And it feels the same like it did before
You're just another fresh fare across his door
And little less care than he had last year
But it doesn't worry him because he
He has no fear
Here, here
Now people always come around
But they don't always stick around
They run a comb across your head
I wish my hair would settle down
The clock I see is running slow
We've only got three years to go
We run our combs across our heads
And it feels the same like it did before
You're just another first footer across the door
And little less care than we took last year
But it doesn't worry us because we
We have no fear
Here
Have we
We have no fear
Have we
We have no fear
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wish my hair was thicker, and I wish my feet were prettier. My toes are really ugly. I wish my ears were smaller. And my nose could be smaller too.
quote by Britney Spears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Night When You Are Fast Asleep
i do not care much if you do not care about what i do at night when i am alone in my study
(actually writing poetry)
all i need is only a little warmth from the silky, curly hair of my poodle
sleeping beside my bare feet contented with the touch of my toes.
the two of us, just the two of us,
against the rage of the cold, dark night
the light from a study lamp
mingling with the glare of the monitor
a miniature of life
an islet of my nocturnal universe.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Little Touch Of Heaven
Golden ringlets in her hair,
freckles on her nose,
cheeks all flushed from laughter
like petals from a rose.
Chubby little fingers at play
into everything,
finding joy in touching,
listening to all I sing.
Feet and toes always bare,
can't stand to wear a shoe.
Loves the feel of the carpet and grass
wet with morning dew.
Snuggles up in my arms at night,
tired from all the play.
Feels my kiss on her peach fuzzed brow
and in her own precious way
gives way to the night and falls asleep
with a quiet breathing sound.
I stand and gaze at her beauty
which to me is heaven, I've found.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Thought I Am Complete
i thought i am complete
seeing my fingers
all intact in my hands
seeing my toes
in proper places of
my feet and my eyes
between the bridge
of my nose
and my hair lushing
on my head and my
ears too sensitive
for voices and sounds
and then something
runs in my spine
like a worm
at first then
more like a snake
and i suddenly
shudder
and then it was
that time that i
realize that i am
incomplete
and the thought comes
like a sudden flash of
light
i need you
i may not have learned to love you yet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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0318 Five
Five fingers touching
in the warmth of night;
five toes walking you
when your back feels tight;
five senses yearning
in the half-filled bed;
five times memory
both alive and dead.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Appendages
How many fingers do I have?
Enough to work to the bone.
How many hands do I have?
The two that I do own.
How many toes do I have?
Enough to fill my shoes.
How many feet do I have?
The two that I do use
to get me where I want to go,
walking a leisurely pace.
It seems to be a lost art anymore.
Most are in a race.
But since I am retired
I don't ever rush around.
My fingers, my toes, my hands, my feet
make me slow right down.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Face Smiles Back Easily - Hundred Mile High City B-side
Its not the way that you look
Or the way that you comb your hair
I know well always be there
By the look, by the book
And your troops and your devil may care
I know well always be there
I know well always be there
And by the way your eyes are shining through
Theres nothing to do but wake up in light
And like the way your eyes they shine with the sun
And lighten everyone who wakes up in time to see
The face smiled back easily
I know well always be there
By the look, by the book
And your troops as your devil may care
I know well always be there
I know well always be there
Its not the way that you look
Or the way that you comb your hair
I know well always be there (x3)
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Was There
In this world when you first arrived
I was there at your mothers side,
Holding her hand, I was filled with pride,
I was there when you first arrived.
It was I alone who rubbed your hair
It was I who counted your fingers and toes,
And I was I who proudly held you first
And it was I alone who rubbed your nose.
When you first arrived in this world
It was I, who was thinking is it a boy or a girl
But then to myself, I really didn't care,
As long as you arrived, to answer my prayer.
I was there with you every step of the way
I watched your birth, and your coming of age
And what I say now, I say with both a vigor and pride,
That I was there, when you first arrived.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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See If I Care
I saw you walking down the street last night
I saw him walking by your side
I saw the way he stopped and held you tight
I saw the look in your eyes..
Go on and tell him that you love him
Go on and show him hes the one..
Go on and give him every sacred thing that you used to save for us..
See If I care
Look at the way your tearin me apart
Baby See If I care
Look at the tears fallin in this heart
Baby go on go on go on..yeah go on go on go on and see if i care..
I still can hear the way you whisper softly in my ear
I lay awake and I remeber the way it felt to hold you near
Go on and run your fingers through his hair
Go on and lay by his side..
Go on and wrap in your dark surrender and all your tender lies
And See If I care
Look at the way your tearin me apart
Baby See If I care
Look at the tears fallin in this heart
Baby go on go on go on..yeah go on go on go on and see if i care..
Look at the way your tearin me apart..baby see if i care
Look at the tears fallin in this heart..
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Polka Patterns
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Lets go into the bathroom
I know were in a room where you would not expect much math
Usually youre in here for a shower or a bath
But if you gaze upon the floor, and if youre kinda smart
Youll see the repetition is like geometric art
Wow, haha
Look
Everywhere, I see them there
I stop and stare at patterns
I dont care, I must declare
Ive got a flair for patterns
On my hair, the clothes I wear
My savoir faire is patterns
All I see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Hey!
A polkameister like myself never has to be bored
I just grab my ax and play some patterns on my keyboard
Nows the time for earplugs if you care about your health
So stand back, everybody, Im gonna express myself
Look at this, patterns
Ive got blisters on my fingers
Woo, hey, aw, get down
Yeah, help me, somebody, woo
Still there? okay
Next time you find yourself at an exciting polka party
You can make some patterns with your feet and with your body
If you dont know the steps yet, heres the gang with all the answers
Ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the weird al polka dancers
Here they are
Everywhere, we see them there
We stop and stare at patterns
We dont care, we must declare
Weve got a flair for patterns
On our hair, the clothes we wear
Our savoir faire is patterns
All we see is patterns
The patterns that repeat
Wallpaper, skyscrapers, funny papers, patterns
Evergreens, nouvelle cuisine, human beings, patterns
Garden rakes, wedding cakes, rattlesnakes, patterns
Golden wheat, little feet, my heartbeat
I gotta stop
Patterns, patterns, patterns, patterns
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talking About Us
(j. spinks)
Late last night I was sitting all alone
You were there on the end of my phone
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
In my mind I just wanted you there
Run my fingers through your hair
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
I closed my eyes cos I was out of control
From fingers to the tip of my toes
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
Late last night you know I needed you there
I was sitting kinda back in my chair
You were talking to me I was thinking bout us
All I wanted was to see you undress
I could picture you more or less
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
I closed my eyes cos I was out of control
From fingers to the tip of my toes
I was thinking bout you
You were talking ? bout us oh, la, la, la, la
Oh oh la, la, la, la
Last night it was getting kinda late
I got the message and you knew I couldn? t wait
I was thinking ? bout you you were talking bout us
I closed my eyes cos I was out of control
From fingers to the tip of my toes
I was thinking bout you
You were talking bout us
That? s you and me babe
I was thinking bout you you were talking bout us
I was thinking bout you you were talking bout us
song performed by by Outfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talking 'bout Us
LATE LAST NIGHT I WAS SITTING ALL ALONE
YOU WERE THERE ON THE END OF MY PHONE
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
IN MY MIND I JUST WANTED YOU THERE
RUN MY FINGERS THROUGH YOUR HAIR
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
I CLOSED MY EYES COS I WAS OUT OF CONTROL
FROM FINGERS TO THE TIP OF MY TOES
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
LATE LAST NIGHT YOU KNOW I NEEDED YOU THERE
I WAS SITTING KINDA BACK IN MY CHAIR
YOU WERE TALKING TO ME I WAS THINKING 'BOUT US
ALL I WANTED WAS TO SEE YOU UNDRESS
I COULD PICTURE YOU MORE OR LESS
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
I CLOSED MY EYES COS I WAS OUT OF CONTROL
FROM FINGERS TO THE TIP OF MY TOES
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING ?BOUT US OH, LA, LA, LA, LA
OH OH LA, LA, LA, LA
LAST NIGHT IT WAS GETTING KINDA LATE
I GOT THE MESSAGE AND YOU KNEW I COULDN?T WAIT
I WAS THINKING ?BOUT YOU YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
I CLOSED MY EYES COS I WAS OUT OF CONTROL
FROM FINGERS TO THE TIP OF MY TOES
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU
YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
THAT?S YOU AND ME BABE
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
I WAS THINKING 'BOUT YOU YOU WERE TALKING 'BOUT US
song performed by by Outfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Opening A New Window
come to my room
let us open a new window
that opens to another window
look at my face
and hold the side of my body
i will caress your hair with my hands
hold your body softly as a wind holds a feather
my fingers shall travel from the tips of your hair
down to the last tips of the toes of your feet
let us be happy, let us try opening another window
let us see the other windows hidden from our eyes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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