Longer Noses
Peep at the ones with longer noses,
How awful they speak, like one who opposes.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Keep It Proper
Keep it proper!
You never know on you who might peep.
When you do a thing discreet.
You never know on you who might peep.
It's best that you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Especially when you're seen in the streets.
You never know on you who might peep.
Keep,
It
Proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Distorting what you do to deceive.
You never know on you who might peep.
It's best that you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
When a seeker seeks a weakness to heat.
You never know on you who might peep.
Controversy lovers love it,
More obscene.
People feed sensations that wound and bleed.
With a caring less of who's affected by misdeeds
Keep,
It
Proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Distorting what you do to deceive.
You never know on you who might peep.
Yes it's best that you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
When a seeker seeks a weakness to heat.
You never know on you who might peep.
It's best
That you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Yes it is best
That you keep it proper.
You never know on you who might peep.
Yes it is best that you keep it proper,
That business to express on the streets.
You never know,
On you
Who might peep.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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United We Will Be Strong
so that when evil opposes
when intruder opposes
we may fight hard and long
in opposition with one will
united we will be strong
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cradle Song
What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.
Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till thy little wings are stronger.
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.
What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
Let me rise and fly away.
Baby, sleep a little longer,
Till thy little limbs are stronger.
If she sleeps a little longer,
Baby too shall fly away.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pop and Culture
Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With not a poop to stop.
They peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There is a peep on pop and culture,
Without a poop to stop.
Lady Gaga got that pop.
People peep on pop and culture.
Taylor Swift's got Country Rock.
People peep on pop and culture.
And Kanye's a social poppa.
People peep on pop and culture.
With Beyonce and Jay-Z,
Seen on top in magazines.
Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With no poop to stop.
Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With no poop to stop.
We feed on Beatles.
Those songs of Beatles.
We feed on Beatles.
And...
Prince is there with beats.
And Michael Jackson's Pop is sweet.
We feed on Beatles.
Those songs of Beatles.
We feed on Beatles.
And Lady Gaga just rocks.
We feed on Beatles.
And they introduced this culture shock.
Peeps peep on pop and culture.
People peep on pop and culture.
There's a peep on pop and culture,
With not a poop to stop.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Peep on You
I peep on you
When you say
You don’t love me
I saw your rose pulps
I peep on you
I saw you rested your love
On the bowl
I peep on you
I saw your barbaric tits waving
Water dripping from there
Right to your squirrel
I peep on you
I saw your squirrel
Wet but breathing
Seems like in hunger
For partner
I peep on you
When you say
You don’t love me
I saw your beautiful face
As horny
As your squirrel
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Short Peoople
Short People got no reason
Short People got no reason
Short People got no reason
To live
They got little hands
And little eyes
And they walk around
Tellin' great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little fett
Well I don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Round here
Short People are just the same
As you and I
(A Fool Such As I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(It's A Wonderful World)
Short People got nobody
Short People got nobody
Short People got nobody
To love
They got little baby legs
And they stand so low
You got to pick 'em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That got beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin' peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They're gonna get you every time
Well, I don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
'Round here
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Short People
Short people
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
To live
They got little hands
Little eyes
They walk around
Tellin great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little feet
Well, I dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
'round here
Short people are just the same
As you and i
(a fool such as I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(its a wonderful world)
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
To love
They got little baby legs
That stand so low
You got to pick em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
Theyre gonna get you every time
Well, I dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
round here
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 57
The meekness of the camel is known to be such that if a child takes hold of its bridle and goes a hundred farsakhs, it will not refuse to follow, but if a dangerous portion occurs which may occasion death and the child ignorantly desires to approach it, the camel tears the bridle from his hand, refusing any longer to obey because compliance in times of calamity is blamable. It is also said that by complaisance an enemy will not become a friend but that his greed will only be augmented.
To him who is kind to thee, be dust at his feet
But if he opposes thee fill his two eyes with dust.
Speak not kindly or gently to an ill-humoured fellow
Because a soft file cannot clean off inveterate rust.
Not A Bit - All Of It
Hysteria and insomnia
Stress, neurosis
Please give a better impression with clever use of cosmetics
Amang others at this very happy wedding
Were mr. and mrs [peep]
The bride looked very pretty
Wearing a dress of old lace, designed by [peep]
Last week I had been to this beautiful memorial service held at [peep]
For the late [peep]
Laaaa, la da dia haoo ...
This man is a professional singer
We think his voice will develop
La, lala lala lalala
Here is the bride
La la la la la la la la
Holy bright
Tra la la la la la la la
Not a bit
La la la la la la la la
All of it
Here is the bride
La la la la la la la la
Holy bright
Tra la la la la
Not a bit
All of it
I made myself interesting again today
Obviously
song performed by by Vangelis
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 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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speak With Kindness (Or Do Not Speak At All)
speak with kindness,
or do not speak at all.
speak not of judgement,
you are not the judge.
speak not of salvation,
let your living be your scriptures.
speak not of scriptures,
let your actions be your holy book.
speak not as apostle or teacher,
speak as a human being.
speak not of god,
then god will speak through you!
speak not as a man,
for you are woman too.
speak not with hateful malice,
for love does not work that way.
speak not as a prophet or seer,
speak as compassion made flesh.
speak not of morality,
speak of connection.
speak not of authority,
the tree and the leaf have just as much.
speak not of holiness,
for all that lives be holy.
speak with kindness...
or do not speak at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I choose to no longer be a victim of people hate
i no longer play the victim,
that no longer who i am,
i'm the girl who finds my own way,
not afraid to ask for help,
cuz it will only help me go far,
i no longer play the victim,
i can do for myself,
even when i'm injured,
i will find my way,
don't feel sorry for me,
i'm no longer the victim,
i say what's on my mind,
and bite my tongue,
when i will only create more drama,
it who i am, and who i will continue to be,
no longer a victim,
to people hating who i want to be,
to me hating where i can't be,
action speak louder than words,
and right now they are saying,
'DON'T BE A VICTIM OF ANY KIND ANYMORE! '
poem by Mona Martinez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An 'Exhibit
Goldenson hanged! Well, Heaven forbid
That I should smile above him:
Though truth to tell, I never did
Exactly love him.
It can't be wrong, though, to rejoice
That his unpleasing capers
Are ended. Silent is his voice
In all the papers.
No longer he's a show: no more,
Bear-like, his den he's walking.
No longer can he hold the floor
When I'd be talking.
The laws that govern jails are bad
If such displays are lawful.
The fate of the assassin's sad,
But ours is awful!
What! shall a wretch condemned to die
In shame upon the gibbet
Be set before the public eye
As an 'exhibit'?
His looks, his actions noted down,
His words if light or solemn,
And all this hawked about the town
So much a column?
The press, of course, will publish news
However it may get it;
But blast the sheriff who'll abuse
His powers to let it!
Nay, this is not ingratitude;
I'm no reporter, truly,
Nor yet an editor. I'm rude
Because unruly
Because I burn with shame and rage
Beyond my power of telling
To see assassins in a cage
And keepers yelling.
'Walk up! Walk up!' the showman cries:
'Observe the lion's poses,
His stormy mane, his glooming eyes.
His-hold your noses!'
How long, O Lord, shall Law and Right
Be mocked for gain or glory,
And angels weep as they recite
The shameful story?
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And If I Could See
And if I could see
The emotions are turning
The sea no longer breaking
The scream no longer sounding
And if I could see
Take me home
I want to be alone
I can’t stand your sound no more
Take me home
Where I am alone
Your face I detest
Your movements are a test
Take me home
And if I was to run
Can’t stand here no more
Can’t live another’s dream
And if I was to disappear
No longer would I care
No longer would I share
And if I could see
Take me home
Where I can speak my dream
Take me home
Where my thoughts are my own
No longer would I prove
What others disapprove
Take me home
poem by Helen Louise Swanson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Push and Pull
It is hard to keep it clean,
When you push and pull.
Or acting happy when feeling mean,
When you push and pull.
And people stand around just to see one weep.
When you push and pull.
And when you say 'hello' they don't even speak.
When you push and pull.
You might see Bo Peep having some trouble with her sheep,
When you push and pull.
You might see Mary and her lambs giving Bo Peep creeps.
When you push and pull.
You might see Humpty Dumpty crawling up a wall.
When you push and pull.
You might see Perter and The Wolf eating chips at a local mall.
When you push and pull.
Ain't nothing easy,
When you try to keep your feet from sinking...
Deep!
And with no sleep.
It is hard to keep it clean,
When you push and pull.
Or acting happy when feeling mean,
When you push and pull.
And people stand around just to see one weep.
When you push and pull.
And when you say 'hello' they don't even speak.
When you push and pull.
And they push bull,
When you push and pull.
And they push bull,
When you push and pull.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another Saturday Night
Another saturday night and I aint got nobody
Ive got some money cause I just got paid
Now how I wish I had someone to talk to
Im in an awful way.
I got in town a month ago
I seen a lot of girls since then,
If I could meet em I could get em
But as yet I havent met em
Thats how Im in the state Im in.
Chorus
Another fella told me
He had a sister who looked just fine
Instead of bein my deliverance
She had a strange resemblance
To a cat named frankenstein.
Chorus
Its hard on a fella
When he dont know his way around
If I dont find me a honey
To help me spend my money
Im gonna have to blow this town.
Another saturday night and I aint got nobody
Ive got some money cause I just got paid
How I wish I had someone to talk to
Im in an awful, ooh, Im in an awful way,
Hes in an awful way, Im in an awful way,
Im in an awful way, hes in an awful way.
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maori Greeting
No matter where the cafe or the bus stop
The pub or sidewalk of the busy street
It's part of what is their time honoured custom
That Maoris will rub noses when they greet.
Do not ask me why the Maoris rub noses
For about their culture there's little i know
Perhaps their great ancestors brought it with them
From outer Islands centuries ago.
It's Maori way of saying how are you buddy
They always greet each other with a smile
Rub noses and shake hands and sometimes embrace
So good to see you it has been some while.
There is a comraderie amongst the Maoris
The brown skinned people of Pacific Land
They are great warriors but they too can be gentle
And their culture can prove hard to understand.
No matter where tavern or super market
Or side walk of the busy city street
It is part of their old time honoured custom
That Maoris will rub noses when they greet.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speak To The Sky
Speak to the sky when ever things go wrong
And you know youre not talkin to the air, to the air
And the world will look better from up there
Speak to the sky cause things can get ya down
And you know when youre talkin to the lord, to the lord
The world will look better than before
And if I stumble and it seems that I am blind
Or if the road Im on seems awful hard to find
And though my conversation doesnt always rhyme
I always try to find some time to .......
Speak to the sky and tell you how I feel
And to know sometimes what I say aint right
Its all right
Cause I speak to the sky every night
And if I stumble and it seems that I am blind
Or if the road Im on seems awful hard to find
And though my conversation doesnt always rhyme
I always try to find some time to .......
Speak to the sky and tell you how I feel
And to know sometimes what I say aint right
Its all right
Cause I speak to the sky every night
Speak to the sky when ever things go wrong
And you know youre not talkin to the air, to the air
And the world will look better from up there
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If The Moon Came From Heaven
If the moon came from heaven,
Talking all the way,
What could she have to tell us,
And what could she say?
‘I've seen a hundred pretty things,
And seen a hundred gay;
But only think: I peep by night
And do not peep by day!’
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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