Our Eyes And Ears
Yet we revise our papers for the pleasure
Of a single marriage, the best secret.
Pleasant places and airspaces shall head
The hair of a sudden astonishing thing.
A slight comfort rewarded us when sold
To eastern eyes, the eyes were hers.
They were ears as well, ears to hide as well,
Forming our basics and finer facts, too distinct.
The pleasure of a menace retells distinction
That seem ill and forgotten, but never.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
It Was A Pleasure Then
It was a pleasure then
Could you just be here again
To know what there was to see
When all the sunday people
Where so quiet in the dark
Afraid to be better the next day
La la la ...
It was a pleasure then
When we could sit and stare again
Until the stars feel through the cloudy trees
Onto the grass
Stars to smile with us
Until they too had tears in their eyes
Tell us this and tell of how much we must not agree
It was a pleasure then
To see the dieing days again
In the horror of the night
Never, never, never, never, never, lise
Keep it secret
For to hide somewhere at last
As long as we could see
The sky confessed this crime
Of futile tasting hate romance
Above our shattered minds
It was a pleasure, it was a pleasure
La la la ...
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Distrust
Then the eyes distrusted the other parts,
The solution was that the eyes could see,
Then ready were the ears to be sweethearts,
Tomorrow our nose desired an ability.
When sentences are made to offer new meaning,
I decide so many are given to the face,
To submit them I see how I am cleaning
My nose and eyes, and my ears in case.
Tense are the breaths we command,
To disregard the pleasure and demand.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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Poparazzi
tune
tune for the poparazzi
tune for the poparazzi
this is a tune the poparazzi
the who's who and the so and so's
this is a tune for the graven images of marilyn monroe
we saw your face on the magazine
we heard the song on the mp3
you're stuck in my head
stuck in my head
stuck in my head
you can close your ears and your eyes
but the pop will never leave you alone
tune for the poparazzi
leave me alone
with your social lingo
you try so hard to stay on top
leave me alone
with your little jingle
with your picture perfect pop
we read the article in seventeen
we saw the video on mtv
you're stuck in my head
stuck in my head
stuck in my head
you can close your ears and your eyes
but the pop will never leave you alone
pop will never leave you alone
noooo
this is a tune for the late nirvana
the teen spirit rock and roll
this is a tune for the velvet elvis's
on the 90210
i thought my eyes were gonna get off clean
till i read your lips on the tv screen
you were busy saying what you didn't mean
now everyone is singing along with your ridiculous song
you got it stuck you
got it stuck in my head
stuck in my head
stuck in my head
you can close your ears and your eyes
you can close your ears and your eyes
but the pop will never leave you alone
tune for the poparazzi
tune for the poparazzi
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A World of Diversity
The world is a spicy pot of diverse races
that exhibits colours pleasant on different faces.
Each race revealing features distinct and unique
of varying hair texture but uniform physique.
Oh yes, you know undoubtedly that I am black.
But still my black heritage does not prestige lack
because my black beauty is revealed in the dark.
Oh yes, you all know that I am Caucasian white,
with my magnificent ocean blue eyes for sight.
I am blonde, brunette and red haired with fair skin light.
Oh yes, you know that I am oriental yellow,
having traits distinct that nature itself did bestow.
We look alike but vary from fellow to fellow.
Oh yes, you know I'm middle-eastern or Indian brown.
I adore my skin tanned and hair black as a crown.
I have a pleasant heritage of Asian renown.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (9 May 2022)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Eyes Wide Open
Your eyes are wide open, but yet you don’t see
All the love I have inside of me.
Eyes wide open, but you don’t look around
You don’t open your ears, you don’t hear a sound.
Eyes wide open but the beauties that surround you
Do not seem to exist.
Is it that your eyes on you are playing tricks?
Eyes wide open and yet you have a blank stare.
Have you closed off your mind?
Or you just don’t care.
What can I do to remove that haze
So that on my face you can gaze.
If I hold you tenderly in my arms
And kiss those beautiful eyes.
Will they move? Will they cry?
What must I do so that you can see
That our love was meant to be.
They say that you went deep inside yourself
To hide the hurt and pain
But without your love “ I am the same”.
Eyes wide open. Did they just glance at me?
Is it because your heart is finally free?
I see a tear forming in your eyes
Emotions being let out that you tried to hide.
Eyes wide open- now they are mine
I can see your love for the very first time.
poem by Louis Rams
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Penny Lane
(LennonMcCartney)
In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs
Of every head he's had the pleasure to know
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say hello
On the corner is a banker with a motorcar
The little children laugh at him behind his back
And the banker never wears a mack
In the pouring rain, very strange
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back
In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass
And in his pocket is a portrait of the queen
He likes to keep his fire engine clean
It's a clean machine
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
A four of fish and finger pies
In summer, meanwhile back
Behind the shelter in the middle of a roundabout
The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway
In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer
We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim
And then the fireman rushes in
From the pouring rain, very strange
Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back
Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes
There beneath the blue suburban skies
Penny Lane
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pain and pleasure
To avoid the pain,
Some forgo pleasure.
To embrace pleasure,
Some undergo the pain.
Eyes on pain,
Pleasure is not the pleasure.
Eyes on pleasure.
Pain is not the pain.
12.02.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Snares
Snares, sears, nears, are, era, ears, as, an, seas, ran, snare;
And like a threshing-sledge dragging the mire,
But the rattle of the spear is all that i do hear around me.
White hair, black hair and coloured hair!
The deep boils like a caldron;
But my ears heard of you and now,
My own eyes have seen you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My Ears - My Eyes
My ears are my eyes because I am blind.
When I cross the street I listen for the sound of cars braking.
My ears are my eyes.
When I enter a room I tap my cane onto the floor and listen for the distance the echo travel to know how far I am away from someone else. My ears are my eyes.
I may never physical see the beauty of a spring day, but when I hear the birds are chirping, bikes constantly peddling by and lovers saying I love you. I know it is a beautiful spring day. I may be blind but I still see my ears are my eyes.
Note: No I am not blind myself but I know several people who are and this is me letting the rest of the world how they see through my poetry.
Sunday Papers
Mother doesnt go out any more
Just sits at home and rolls her spastic eyes
But every weekend through the door
Come words of wisdom from the world outside
If you want to know about the bishop and the actress
If you want to know how to be a star
If you want to know about the stains on the mattress
You can read it in the sunday papers, sunday papers
Mothers wheelchair stays out in the hall
Why should she go out when the tvs on
Whatever moves beyond these walls
Shell know the facts when sunday comes along
If you want to know about the man gone bonkers
If you want to know how to play guitar
If you want to know about the other suckers
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Brothers heading that way now I guess
He just read something made his face turn blue
Well I got nothing against the press
They wouldnt print it if it wasnt true
If you want to know about the gay politician
If you want to know how to drive your car
If you want to know about the new sex position
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Read all about it, sunday papers
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pleasure for one hour, a bottle of wine. Pleasure for one year a marriage; but pleasure for a lifetime, a garden.
Tease
You really like me I can tell
To hug and to kiss you do love as well
Am I attracted to you?
For that I do not know
Maybe in time to come, a mind game though
I pull her near, fairest amongst
And deep breathes from her nostrils heard
She touches me close as tilted her head
Into my eyes stared
Gently she strokes
She would not speak
And blinks, not in these times of pleasure
A little parted her glittering lips
And her crimson tongue out lurks
Drawn near and her dilated eyes she close
I smell her neck and into her ears whispers
A peck on her forehead I can only afford
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Song From An Evening's Love
After the pangs of a desperate lover,
When day and night I have sighed all in vain,
Ah, what a pleasure it is to discover
In her eyes pity, who causes my pain!
When with unkindness our love at a stand is,
And both have punished ourselves with the pain,
Ah, what a pleasure the touch of her hand is!
Ah, what a pleasure to touch it again!
When the denial comes fainter and fainter,
And her eyes give what her tongue does deny,
Ah, what a trembling I feel when I venture!
Ah, what a trembling does usher my joy!
When, with a sigh, she accords me the blessing,
And her eyes twinkle 'twixt pleasure and pain,
Ah, what a joy 'tis beyond all expressing!
Ah, what a joy to hear 'Shall we again!'
poem by John Dryden
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Opposite displeasure
Success gives pleasure.
Conquest gives pleasure.
Revenge gives pleasure.
Hunting gives pleasure.
Coveting gives pleasure.
Mind; every pleasure
Gives equal and opposite
Displeasure to others.
In a way we act as sadists
04.05.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Hard To Reveal
Ryan
You see in my eyes a reflection
That I wanna give you affection
My eyes don't lie
They show you my deepest emotion
When we make love in slow motion
My eyes don't lie
All the things you see are previews of you and me
My eyes don't lie a thing
My eyes don't lie a thing
All the things I see are secrets you share with me
My eyes don't hide a thing
My eyes don't hide a thing
Chorus
It's hard to reveal
There's something about you
We're two halves of a whole
You're my heart - You're my soul
x2
No need to search for devotion
My body will give you the notion
My eyes don't lie
Swept by the deepest temptation
I'll show you my imagination
My eyes don't lie
All the things you see are previews of you and me
My eyes don't lie a thing
My eyes don't lie a thing
All the things you see are secrets you share with me
My eyes don't hide a thing
Your eyes don't hide a thing
Chorus x2
song performed by by Kate Ryan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beauty's Blemish
You are as young, O lady mine,
As ere you were in olden days,
Your lips are red, your blue eyes shine,
And still you have your girlish ways.
I hate to think what years have flown
Since first I praised these things, mine own.
Your frocks still have that youthful cut,
Garbing a svelte form, slim and flat.
You should be spreading, darling but
Your middle-age has brought no fat.
Indeed, you sometimes seem at nights
A flapper, seen in certain lights.
My fond eyes have surveyed you, sweet,
Thro' all these years and found no fault.
Your lustrous hair, your tiny feet
Are still perfection. Yet a halt
In my high praise wakes sudden fears:
You're growing old behind the ears!
Yet, even then, I'd not repine
If that grey matter which should fill
That pretty head, O lady mine,
Gained age, 'twere compensation still;
And I'd forgive the ravening years,
If you'd mature above the ears.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The art of dining well is no slight art, the pleasure not a slight pleasure.
quote by Michel de Montaigne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Numb
Reality fades
As fiction becomes truth
Sounds blend to static
As my ears start to bleed
I'm walking on the moon
As the birds sing an entrancing lullaby
And the sky melts
From blue to pink
While the rain washes
The color from my eyes
My every hair stands on end
To hear the colors
My ears can't see
I close my eyes
Light still coms in
As they open
My world goes dim
Ain't the great
I'm numb
again
poem by Matt Mondschein
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