Knowing The Sinfullness Of Each?
smelling like rotten egg
cum fist intestines thrown in
crowded squatter canals of
his little town,
he went to the local catholic church
to make them all feel
how it smells to be a congenital
sinner
no amount of bath
soap, astringent, perfume
can cancel this
smell
of course, everyone was mad
at him
and pretended that they do not know him
correct: who knows one self really?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Little Soap & Water
Stink like a bear stuck on a tree trunk
Baby you smell like a nasty payment
Wishing you had soap you couldn't buy Old bread in your Ice box
Ted in your knee trunks
Girl your boyfriend got a stinky job
Better then smoking steaks on a grill
You missing new points smoking a bottle
Your woman is a woman that sleeps all night
Know she stinking off her panties
Co patties where you work
Dancing like you twerk
Nasty manager never taking baths
Plane air pollution smell a bird
Oil got my clothes stinking
Go home FizTzle take a bath
She smells you but she work in air conditional
Clean your clothes smell good
America stinks how about you
Smell pollution like I'm smoking
A Little Soap & Water.
poem by Tommy Laster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perfume 'A La Larissa
“A La Larissa” perfume has appeared!
The fragrance of it is great and neared.
It’s just for your elegance and intelligence.
It’s not for the masses!
It’s for the women in the evening dresses.
It’s for the ladies of extra classes.
This perfume is an explosion of warmth,
It gives you real sexual storms.
It gives you the enveloping notes,
It rises up your best emotes,
It’s a heady memorable ode,
It’s the mode of a highly sort of perfume.
You’ll feel comfortable with it at any ballroom.
It’s eccentric smell will make you feel so well.
When you are in the evening gown,
It will turn all heads on its own.
This perfume is really the best.
The best and… out of the rest!
Just a dropp of it and…you are on the top.
And a dropp and …you’ll be for sure the pop.
What a prestige! What a delight!
Magic perfume “ A La Larissa”! ! !
You can only hear men’s whisper:
She is a vanquisher!
Is she a princess from Saragossa?
Oh, no! This aroma is from Odessa!
It has the smell of the Black Sea.
It has the fragrance of an acacia tree.
“A La Larissa’ perfume is just fantastic!
It’s so poetic and esthetic!
It smells the rain, it smells the snow!
The world of all flowers it shows!
With “A La Larissa” you’ll understand
What real art is on our land.
Using “A La Larissa”
You’ll get the ocean of sensation.
You’ll get your impersa
And…it will cause a poet’s inspiration.
It will give you the best charm,
It will give you the tenderness alarm.
You’ll be out of masses an exception!
You’ll be … The Lady Perfection!
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 5th of October,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Was Good Then
I go back to my childhood
And images come flying at me
These water color memories
That have faded to a certain extent
With the passage of time
Fade no more
But become no brighter.
I remember things in
Sunshine yellows
And frosty blues
Minty greens
And lavender hues.
I remember smells.
Is it even possible to remember
Smell?
But, I swear I do.
Days had their own smell
Skin had its own smell
Sticky with sweat
From playing outside at high noon.
The grass, flowers, and air
Were scented.
By some far away perfume
Carried from place to place.
I remember the feel of grass
Between my bare toes.
I remember laughter.
I remember the gnarled trunk of
A tree under my hands and
Shoeless feet
When I climbed all the way to the top
And was not afraid to look or
Climb down.
I remember being a gypsy child
Going from place to place
Town to town
Without fear.
I remember making friends
I remember innocence..
I remember
Security,
Something I have forgotten since.
I remember
Childhood
Water color memories.
poem by Rabia Minhas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Little Country Town
The creek down to a trickle and the paddocks looking brown
And not much ever seems to happen in the Little Country Town
lived in by the descendants of the early settlers who settled here a century ago
Of the bigger World out there few of them wish to know.
At night the recent happenings discussed in the local pub
News of the local cricketers or the local football club
Where the personal lives of those they know to them never taboo
What is happenning in the town of late who is having sex with who?
The visual or the literary arts never discussed at all
It has to be a local scandal that or bowls cricket or football
In little country towns one might say that creative types are rare
They are looked on with suspicion the culturally aware.
The creek down to a trickle and bone dry every drain
And in the local church on sunday the Reverend prays for rain
In the Main Street all is so quiet and few cars pass up and down
And life goes on as usual in the Little Country Town.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Philippine Junket
Just as the clock starts to tick
There sprung the tongues of fire
When these honorable men play their mutual smack
One will see their infinite capacity to lie
Through their gums like soothing mark
For nobody cares
Everyone loves to smell the roses
And we end up smelling the gutter instead!
Their speeches are so hilarious
Quite apart from poignant
They seem to feel their colleague’s loss as their loss
To us an expostulation of wonderment
Weeping and gnashing their teeth to protect their boss
For nobody cares
Everyone loves to smell the roses
And we end up smelling the gutter instead!
Forget the just and the wicked
For that is like squeezing blood from stones
They all wrought turbulence hard and morbid
When they speak, they sound like storms
Relatively an equanimity they stood as united
For nobody cares
Everyone loves to smell the roses
And we end up smelling the gutter instead!
poem by Edgar Rendon Eslit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Submit a new poem
The smell of a new car
Or perhaps a puppy just born
Coffee brewing in the early morn
Inscence at mass mingled with perfume
Diesel fumes from the bus in the city
Making me dizzy and whoozy and giddy
Aromas so feint I had forgotten
What smelled good
And what smelled rotten
But today I submit a new poem
The smell of all new mother's dream
A newborn to make them smile
And make complete thier life for eternity
Just ask my wife, Love John, A lover of life..
Downright Dirty and Disgusting
To Hell with fragrant bars of soap
That are the housewife's only hope
To keep her children free from grime
Now Body Odour is a crime!
She likes to keep them squeaky clean,
The slightest smell would be obscene;
Perfume's the order of the day
To keep those sweay pongs away!
But I prefer it if you don't wash,
Deodorants are far too posh,
I like the smell between your hips
And long to sniff your kipper lips! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You know, my children go to a local, local catholic school just down the road.
quote by John Deacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Candice,
If you can't sleep:
*
Make your bedroom more comfortable, keep it cool and quiet.
*
Get up and do something else. Then, go back to bed.
*
Drink warm milk or hot water before you go to bed.
*
Take a warm bath, read a little or listen to some quiet music in the evening.
*
Get fresh air and exercise during the day, but remember: exercise before bed can keep you awake.
*
Go to bed and get up at the same time every day.
*
Don't take naps during the day.
*
Avoid coffee, tea or soft drinks after 5 p.m.
*
Don't smoke or drink alcohol in the evening—it can keep you awake.
*
Don't eat spicy food in the evening.
If you often wake up during the night to go to the bathroom and can't get back to sleep, try not to drink very much before you go to bed.
But remember: if you need to take medication at bedtime, it is best to take pills with a full glass of water.
If you feel lonely:
You can spend time with other people by:
* Becoming a volunteer at your local school, hospital, church or community centre.
* Joining a seniors' club at your local church or community centre.
* Taking a course at your local school or community centre and learning a new activity.
You can also call and talk to a different friend or family member every day. You may want to write a short letter to a friend or family member who lives far away. Sometimes, just writing to someone can help you feel that this person is with you.
If you feel anxious, tense or worried:
* Try to relax by breathing slowly and deeply.
* Take a walk.
* Choose an activity you really enjoy doing, like listening to your favourite music, and do it.
* Tell a friend, family member or your doctor how you feel.
* Join a support group so that you can talk more about your anxious feelings.
* Take a relaxation or exercise class, like yoga, at your local school or community centre.
* Take a course and learn how to do an activity, like needlework or woodworking, at your local community or seniors' centre.
For more information, please contact:
ariel escalona, the sleep expert...(ha ha ha)
your friend,
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have bad breath
I have very bad breath
It smells like decay and death
People say it makes them sick
As it also smells like garlic
People shirk away, Ok I get the hint
I will have to suck on yet another mint
When people face me, they look away
Looks like I'm gonna have to invest in some mouth spray
People face me and wince
Looks like I will need to buy mouth rinse
I think the smell comes from rotten caries
Or from my bad gum disease
What ever it is, people won't come near me
I am rejected from society
Looks like I won't be missed
Until I get myself to the dentist
poem by Katherine Shaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poetry Of Smell
a smell, your smell,
that perfume that sticks
to my skin,
your sweat, that wetness
between us,
dry before us, desert sand,
nothing to talk about oasis,
camels in a caravan
under the stars one evening,
you are my tent,
i live there, but you are not
there, there is this blankness
that i face within me,
there is this trail that smells
like you, i follow,
and then i stop, it is not us
there, there is no us,
there is the star that shines
one evening
it does not last,
but every evening it comes
back to me,
too near, in my mind,
too far, in reality.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Catholic church does, for some people, leave lots of scars. And I have to say I didn't come out smiling from my Catholic childhood. I had lots of problems, you know, lots of hang-ups. But you get over it and get on with life. Whatever was good, take that with you. Whatever was bad, get over it, get it out of your head, leave it behind. And that's what I think I did. I don't go to church very much any more, you know.
quote by Dolores O'Riordan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Becoming Catholic involves entering into a relationship with the Catholic Church.
quote by Carl Olson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Khaddar Arms
Man is an animal
with a peculiar smell
says Bertolt Brecht:
he smells a rotten rat
as he waves his khaddar arms
with fake smile
-R.K.SINGH
poem by R.K. Singh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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BC is not going to replace the hierarchy, and BC is not going to lead some major reform in the Catholic Church - that's got to come out of the whole Catholic community.
quote by William P. Leahy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Catholic liturgical music, it would seem, is everywhere but in the Catholic Church itself.
quote by Richard Morris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghost Perfume
Smell of perfume fills the air,
it’s my ghost friend who is near.
I ask a question in my mind,
“Does ghost want me to see a sign? ”
Do I know perfume is real this time?
Smell of perfume by my car,
it is lingering only so far.
Not in other parts of air,
the ghost wanted me to believe
she was there.
Watching over me, to show she cares.
(By Suzae Chevalier on September 4, 2011)
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the gay (Catholic) community, it would seem, the maxim is: love the sin and love the sinner, but hate anyone who calls it a sin or him a sinner.
quote by Richard John Neuhaus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I grew up a Catholic and I don't want to talk badly about the Catholic Church but there's a lot of routine stuff going on. You say the same prayers, you sit, you kneel, whatever.
quote by Bernhard Langer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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