Pensive I Sit and Sniff Scents
Pensive I sit and sniff scents,
Of lavender and lilac...
Coming to invade my space,
From the other side of a fence...
Where my neighbors reside.
These days I try to find a way,
To quiet all of my anxieties.
And I didn't think I had that many,
Until I discovered...
I do!
And still I sit in a pensiveness.
Between thoughfulness and sadness.
And dreams that seem out of reach.
Although my 'spirits'
Are lifted by scents I sniff and wish to seige.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Scents... ' (or) Tea - Baby
S
C
E
N
T
S
I So, Love The Scent, of A Fresh, Cup Of Tea
Like, I Love The Smell, of A Fresh-Bathed Baby
Both, Are So Very Delicate, Soothing & Sweet
Both, Are A Unique, Fragile-Moment Complete
And With Rose Petals and Soft Lavender Scents
And Apple-Blossoms, Honey and Fresh Peppermint
All Come In Lotions Or Talc-Powder For Baby
And In My Teacup, These Aromas Are Tasty
I So Love The Scent of Steeped-Leaf Tea
And A Fresh-Bathed, Gurgling Baby
Come, Sip A Cup of Tea With Me
While I Hold & Sniff The Baby
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Who Rejects Christ
There's farmers and there's farmers,
There's many a field and field,
But none of the farmers round about
Can haul such harvest-wagons out
As I from an acre's yield.
There's plenty and plenty of farmers
That leave the ground by the fence,
Thinking it's nice if a patch of roses
Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses
With nice little wild-rose scents.
I'm not like other farmers,
I make my farming pay;
I never go in for sentiment,
And seeing that roses yield no rent
I cut the stuff away.
A very good thing for farmers
If they would learn my way;
For crops are all that a good field grows,
And nothing is worse than a sniff of rose
In the good strong smell of hay.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Race
Some bite from the others
A leg an arm or whatever
Take it between their teeth
Run out as fast as they can
Cover it up with earth
The others scatter everywhere
Sniff look sniff look
Dig up the whole earth
If they are lucky and find an arm
Or leg or whatever
It's their turn to bite
The game continues at a lively pace
As long as there are arms
As long as there are legs
As long as there is anything
poem by Vasko Popa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
With No Moolah?
I think it's time to shop,
For new scents to breathe.
And sniff the freshness,
Of an openness to leave.
It's time to scoop,
Up some hoop and holler.
And let that joy swoop over us...
Like moolah!
Gonna spend a mint...
Casting sentiments to the wind.
From treetops bent...
Rejoicing from a high we bring to them.
And-don't-need-no-money-when-you-hav e-a-honey-you-can-love.
And-don't-need-no-mone y-when-you-have-a-honey-you-believe in!
I think it's time to shop,
For new scents to breathe.
And sniff the freshness,
Of an openness to leave.
Gonna spend a mint...
Casting sentiments to the wind.
From treetops bent...
Rejoicing from a high we bring to them.
And...
Don't-need-no-money-when-y ou-have-a-honey-you-can-love.
'With no moolah? '
Don't-need-no-money-when-you-have-a-honey-yo u-believe in!
'With no moolah? '
Gonna spend a mint...
Casting sentiments to the wind.
From treetops bent...
Rejoicing from a high we bring to them.
'With no moolah? '
Don't-need-no-money-when-you-have-a-hone y-you-can-love.
'With no moolah? '
Don't-need-no-money-when-you-have-a-honey-yo u-believe in!
'With no moolah? '
Don't-need-no-money-when-you-have-a-honey-yo u-can-love.
'With no moolah? '
Don't-need-no-money-when-you-have-a-honey-yo u-believe in!
'With no moolah? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In Lavender And Green
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With bells about your feet,
And music in your step,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With sunshine in your eyes,
And springtime in your hair,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With softness in your words,
And healing in your touch,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With your name upon my lips,
And delight within your kiss,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
In dreams at midnight’s rest,
Or afternoon’s recline?
Come then to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
At the setting of the sun,
When my days are nearly run?
Still come to me in lavender and green?
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
If I wait at heaven’s door,
As I waited once before,
While you walked to organ’s tune,
On a summer’s afternoon.
Now dressed in springtime hues?
My love, companion, muse,
A vision still I see,
Dressed in lavender and green.
poem by Greg Davidson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Jar's Story
from the start
the hands that shaped you
designed you to be empty
you were named
Jar,
someone so
beautiful and rich
takes you
away from your
maker
those hands
cannot hold you for long
because they are
empty and hungry
hands
and then she fills
you with perfume
and all those who attend
the parties of the
world
dip their fingers
in your scent
they crowd around you
and you are loved
not for what you are
but what you
can give
scents, scents,
all scents
you begin to miss
your original form
the beauty that you
possess
when you were
once empty
you miss the whisper
of space inside
your belly
the hush of the wind
that rests in
your heart
you forget the name
that was given to you
Jar is your name
but are not one of them
anymore
you are the scent
of their necks
hanging on their
jaws and navels
your contents
fill now their fantasies
your hollowness
they now discard
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Neighborly Guy
Baptist churches and brotherhood
In a tired, aging town
A moribund neighborhood
Where faith and fraternity are found
Cleveland Ohio’s a rust belt town
Ordinary citizens, still work out the days
Life comes and goes, has ups and has downs
But some neighbors are different in unusual ways
Take Anthony Sowell, a neighborly guy
A smile bright as the sunrise, none brighter or quicker
Liked to sit on his porch, by and by
Sippin’ from a bottle of King Cobra Malt Liquor
Had a few girlfriends over, seemed a regular guy
Neighbors came over for barbecue at times
Always said “good mornin’ and evening” and “hi’
Scrounged up ol’ metal for nickels and dimes
Neighbors at times notice odd scents
Of dead things or spoiled meat
Seemed to be coming from beyond a fence
Of a sausage maker just down the street
But Anthony sowell, a neighborly guy
Had compliant companions who sat quietly inside
Four on the couch slowly rotting
and three on the floor where they died
A few in the hallway
several upstairs in the bed
One in the bathroom,
on his workbench, a severed head
Anthony Sowell, a neighborly guy
was led in handcuffs through his front gate
Left his neighbors imaginations to fly
As to what was in that barbecue they ate
Anthony seemed such a neighborly guy
Some said they’d forever feel sickened
Some said they’d never eat barbecue again
Some said it tasted a little like chicken
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Man
Old Man, or Lads-Love, - in the name there's nothing
To one that knows not Lads-Love, or Old Man,
The hoar green feathery herb, almost a tree,
Growing with rosemary and lavender.
Even to one that knows it well, the names
Half decorate, half perplex, the thing it is:
At least, what that is clings not to the names
In spite of time. And yet I like the names.
The herb itself I like not, but for certain
I love it, as someday the child will love it
Who plucks a feather from the door-side bush
Whenever she goes in or out of the house.
Often she waits there, snipping the tips and shrivelling
The shreds at last on to the path,
Thinking perhaps of nothing, till she sniffs
Her fingers and runs off. The bush is still
But half as tall as she, 'though it is as old;
So well she clips it. Not a word she says;
And I ca only wonder how much hereafter
She will remember, with that bitter scent,
Of garden rows, and ancient damson trees
Topping a hedge, a bent path to a door
A low thick bush beside the door, and me
Forbidding her to pick.
As for myself,
Where first I met the bitter scent is lost.
I, too, often shrivel the grey shreds,
Sniff them and think and sniff again and try
Once more to think what it is I am remembering,
Always in vain. I cannot like the scent,
Yet I would rather give up others more sweet,
With no meaning, than this bitter one.
I have mislaid the key. I sniff the spray
And think of nothing; I see and I hear nothing;
Yet seem, too, to be listening, lying in wait
For what I should, yet never can, remember;
No garden appears, no path, no hoar-green bush
Of Lad's-love, or Old Man, no child beside,
Neither father nor mother, nor any playmate;
Only an avenue, dark, nameless, without end
poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Intentional Hybrid
Certain fragrances only become noticeable,
And stand out from the others...
When these unfamiliar scents are given attention.
Some may debate they leave better aromas.
And a few experienced may detect,
A mix of scents created by an intentional hybrid.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grobe
sometimes the ones you hold so close can make you cry
but it's a pain in the ass to let 'em go
with a battered wish you hoped that the monkey wore a tie
but it's no surprise to find he don't
put the pointed pencil in the pepper-po
and take a little sniff of the things below
bring it to a boil and simmer low
put the noodle on the griddle as it climbs the Grobe
watch the worker shield his heart from the world outside
didn't get a chance to let him know
Alsace is spinning fast and wine mixed with the tide
please don't let my brain explode
put the pointed pencil in the pepper-po
and take a little sniff of the things below
bring it to a boil and simmer low
put the noodle on the griddle as it climbs the Grobe
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Grobe
sometimes the ones you hold so close can make you cry
but it's a pain in the ass to let 'em go
with a battered wish you hoped that the monkey wore a tie
but it's no surprise to find he don't
put the pointed pencil in the pepper-po
and take a little sniff of the things below
bring it to a boil and simmer low
put the noodle on the griddle as it climbs the Grobe
watch the worker shield his heart from the world outside
didn't get a chance to let him know
Alsace is spinning fast and wine mixed with the tide
please don't let my brain explode
put the pointed pencil in the pepper-po
and take a little sniff of the things below
bring it to a boil and simmer low
put the noodle on the griddle as it climbs the Grobe
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Get A Kick Out Of You
Verse:
My story is much to sad to be told
But practically everything leaves me totally cold
The only exception I know is the case
When Im out on a quiet spree, fighting vainly the old ennui
Then I suddenly turn and see
Your fabulous face
Chorus:
I get no kick from champagne
Mere alcohol doesnt thrill me at all
So tell me why should it be true
That I get a kick out of you
Some like the perfume from spain
Im sure that if I took even one sniff
It would bore me terrifically too
But I get a kick out of you
( some like the bop-type refrain )
( Im sure that if, I heard even one riff )
( it would bore me terrifically too )
( but I get a kick out of you )
( some they may go for cocaine )
( Im sure that if, I took even one sniff )
( it would bore me terrifically too )
( but I get a kick out of you )
I get a kick every time I see you standing there before me
I get a kick though its clear to see, you obviously do not adore me
I get no kick in a plane
Flying too high with some gal in the sky
Is my idea of nothing to do
But I get a kick out of you
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Radio Active
Groves of Pomegranate with implants,
Of Lilac scents.
Fill the air misted with Cinnamon,
And Lavender fragrances.
Hinted with Lime and Lemon twists.
And all which isn't accepted,
Is kept restricted with barriers that fence.
Ensuring a way of life projected,
Is radio active to incense.
A constitutional decree,
Will never be amended.
To include elements...
Threatening this exclusivity meant.
Since laws implemented were never intended,
For a reception of all to come dressed to the ball.
'And let's make clear this interpretation we are racists.
We are protectors of rights we defend.
We accept other races,
Like us...
To stay in their place.
That they were eliminated is not our mistake.
We do as we please!
And that is not about race.
If they happen to see that another way...
We say, Hey...
Too bad.
Get over it.
That's the breaks! '
A constitutional decree,
Will never be amended.
To include elements...
Threatening this exclusivity meant.
Since laws implemented were never intended,
For a reception of all to come dressed to the ball.
~Now there is a virus that spreads from horses to dogs! ~
WHAT are you talking about now?
~I just wanted to change the subject.
'They' are calling that one H3 'something'...~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paintings
colours, they bring back
scenes and scents
your painting, it brings
brings me back all the years
still i can sit in that chair of
that long lost cafe and
have the privilege of a
tete a tete with friends,
imagined and real
of things we all cherish
the love of art and all the things
that it brings - scenes,
scents, and the time
we thought is lost
forever in time
Second Version
--
colours, they bring back
scenes and scents
your painting, it brings
brings me back all the years
still i can sit in that chair of
that long lost cafe and
have the privilege of a
tete a tete with friends,
imagined and real
of things we all cherish
the love of art and all the things
that it brings - scenes,
scents and geniuses
overheated talents
that drove them lunatics,
madmen manoevring
with the coldness
of the arctics
volcanoes that explode
splotches, dashes
splashes, onto the
canvas of their dreams
colours, they bring back
scenes and scents
paintings, they bring back
all the years nature plods on
against adversities to help
the artist pour out its best onto canvas
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Mysterious Flower
Fragrant -Mauve, Purple - Flower
Violet my best flower
You make me at ease you give me Power
Lavender Flower - Mysterious Flower
what a relaxing scent! There is No More Stress
a field of Lavender thwarts a deep Sadness
You're my balm - you soothe my annoyance
Just one deep breath- I go into a trance
your enigmatic color, make me pensive
meditiative
contemplative,
introspective,
reflective.
I wonder the Lavender scenery
I dive
no north, no south, no east, no west
I am your faithful captive.
poem by Glamorous Enigma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Slip Me a Whiff
Slip me a whiff,
And let me sniff to pollute.
My values have been stomped upon,
And I'm feeling much used and abused.
I don't have any change in my pocket.
My dollars I've banked have tanked.
They tell me to have patience.
But the devastation is not only on my face.
Many are collecting memories...
To leave their tears in evicted places.
Slip me a whiff,
And let me sniff to pollute.
My values have been stomped upon,
And I'm feeling much used and abused.
Where do I go when my life has been crushed?
Who do I trust...
When standands I believed in have been flushed.
I remembered when I perceived those in need were lazy.
Now I understand more than I wish.
How things can change...
With priorities rearranged.
To leave relationships strained,
In estranged, insane derangements no one claims!
But emotions can't keep distanced.
Slip me a whiff,
And let me sniff to pollute.
My values have been stomped upon,
And I'm feeling much used and abused.
I wish to forget and dismiss what is.
By getting high and flying high above it!
To drift and resist its pull that threatens!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue
Now I wanna sniff some glue
Now I wanna have somethin' to do
All the kids wanna sniff some glue
All the kids want somethin' to do
Now I wanna sniff some glue
Now I wanna have somethin' to do
All the kids wanna sniff some glue
All the kids want somethin' to do
1-2-3-4-
1-2-3..RIFF!!!
yeah!!!
Now I wanna sniff some glue
Now I wanna have somethin' to do
All the kids wanna sniff some glue
All the kids want somethin' to do..yeah
Now I wanna sniff some glue
Now I wanna have somethin' to do
All the kids wanna sniff some glue
All the kids want somethin' to do
(take that with you)
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wiped Upon Your Welcome Mat
I am expected to be profound,
Without spewing profanities?
From bitten lips?
Whether naked or not,
My raw point of view,
Wiil be microscoped and determined
To be flawed and abusive!
Even though I was raised exposed,
To the seasons of life!
Not sheltered to just sniff scents of roses!
You expect me to remain composed,
In heated debate?
I am in no competition to achieve greatness.
If my shoes are soiled...
They will be wiped upon your welcome mat.
I respected you enough to accept your invitation.
I am the wrong guest to suggest,
I should jump through hoops for trash like that!
I did not come to chew condescending condemnations,
Cooked to be fed to those still licking insecurities.
You wont have to tell me when my visit comes to a close...
My absence will expose you to my feelings!
and if you rush to your window,
My backside you will see!
I am not into nonsense to be shared with glee!
Or frolic in pretentions since this is not me.
If you see I'm not there...
Vivid should be the clue that I chose to leave!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Taking Time
i tried to ask myself what are days for
they always equate it with walking and the nights
always with sleep. Some have taken the courage
to redefine the colors.
black need not be dark, and white need
not be waking,
sleep would be pink at times
and twilight blue.
i do most of the thinking at night
when everyone hides in the darkness of their sleep.
there are colors and sounds and scents.
and i begin to love the variations,
the aberrations have become adventures
and no one in the house knows
no one understands what is happening to my
eyelids, my mouth does not speak
and my eyes,
having seen much, have desired days
to be the place for the dead,
the white mausoleums, the scents of the flowers
for the weary.
i sleep and dream at noontime and
nobody is there anymore to
mind. I am alone and i have began to love
this moment.
my day is dark. my night is light.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Four walls
Temptations everywhere, here, there
No reasons to have to regret
More and more items to have to get
A brusque shove, sleight of hand
Dare anyone to make a stand
My comeuppance which I accept
I've got to stand my ground and demand respect
I wish I was riding my bike, though
At least I'm not scratching the walls as I go through the door
Wonder what my friends are doing now?
Probably taking orders from their old cow
These four walls are all mine
I can think and plan while I spend my time
Stifled whimpering from through the wall
Keys jangle and bars clang from down the hall
Those so and sos treated me rough
And they took back all my stuff
One day my sentence will be done
Sniff.. sniff..got no one to talk to tonight..
wonder if tomorrow mum will come.
poem by Brian Roy Skyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!