Size is immaterial.
The ass has large ears;
The horse has small ears.
The horse looks good.
The rat has small ears;
The rabbit has big ears.
The rabbit looks good.
Which ear- large or small,
Stands for beauty?
12.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Once I showed up at my sister's with a baby rabbit I had bought from some children because its ears were cold. I put the rabbit on a hot water bottle and massaged its ears for quite a while. After all, I knew that all healthy animals had warm ears.
quote by Juliette G. Low
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rabid Child
Lord, please dont take me away.
Rabid child stays at home, talks on a cb
Truckers pass calling out their handles to the kid
Chess piece face and the big duluth call her every day
Hammer down and rabbit ears are the only words they know
Hammer down
Hammer down, rabbit ears
Hammer down, rabbit ears
Hammer down, rabbit ears, hammer down
If you pass the rabid child say hammer down for me
The rabid child
The rabid child
The rabid child
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Points
Counting points every day
To try and keep my weight at bay
Low cal this low fat that
Its all to keep me from getting fat
Meer morsels appear upon my plate
Were once was full my mighty plate
Green stuff coming out my ears
I should have buckteeth and rabbit ears
The weight is dropping really slow
I have such a long way to go
Rabbit food and plate so bare
About my weight I really care
Four months down the line
Lost loads of weight and feeling fine
No more grumbling about the food
That balanced diet done me good
Chellaston
06 04 2010
poem by Jim O'Donnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give Way
I know a man from Lancashire
who had a horse and cart for hire.
The horse was old but the cart is strong,
somehow together they didn't belong.
When they became one there was a change,
Ears went up, whip in the tail, snap the riegns.
They came to a bridge, it looked a little weak
As they crossed, it hobbled, tapped and creaked.
The wooden bridge was small and norrow
not to long, but only room for one to pass.
Towards them flapped a little brown sparrow,
horse thinks, no way he's makin me into an ass.
The old horse snorted and put his head down,
nothing would stop them getting to town.
Said the horse: ' no one's gettin in my way'
Then the little sparrow flew up, got out the way.
Hovering above watching everything,
just like a slow motion scene.
The sparrow saw the horse
fly through the trucks screen.
P.S. We used a proffessional stunt horse, he is Ok.
poem by David Darbyshire
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Me & My Horse
riding together,
you and your horse.
as you run against the wind all you call hear is-
the wind wipping your ears,
the horse's hooves thundering beneath you,
the chains of your bit as the horse pulls against the reins,
and the faint sound of the horse behind you.
your horse stops,
the horse behind you catches up.
the race is over,
freedom will have to wait until next time.
poem by Horse Lover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Six-Toed Tina
There was a young queen who knew a boy's love,
who ruled a great yard and led a small pride.
From her extra toes to her noble ears,
she was incongruent in scope and size.
Yet her purr was the world to one odd child,
for whom every word was a bur unfair.
Calico and beige, with a mange unfair,
she appeared unkept and bereft of love.
Even the boy, so different a child,
was led astray by his diffident pride,
and couldn't quite take her strange paws and size,
until loving rubs made him scratch her ears.
Satiny soft- those tall Bastet-like ears-
made her nightly hunts endeavors unfair,
for Tina teased out sounds tiny in size-
even large rodents in the throes of love-
and dragged them writhing to the grateful pride,
who devoured them whole in front of the child.
Then something died deep inside that strange child,
as a slate of new sounds pricked up his ears.
He sought sensation and elusive pride-
baring it all yet becoming unfair.
Cool was he, and insensitive to love,
paying no heed to it's presence or size.
Yes, women- not felines- zero in size-
became the prize for this once awkward child,
who delighted himself in faking love
'til news of Tina at last touched his ears,
and life was again an affair unfair,
ruled by the cruel and their f***ed up pride.
So clutching her image, he faced the pride,
dreaming of justice, caliber and size,
and what he'd do to those humans unfair-
but now he was grown and not a small child,
and his soul soon mellowed as did his ears.
He'd bury poor Tina and try to love.
Dark days unfair would again test his pride,
but knowing of love would limit their size,
and the child moved on with enlightened ears.
poem by Taylor Rosewood
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A Rectification
the randomness of them all
entering your mind too preoccupied
with what must be
and what ougth to be,
the mind blunders
with timorous thunders,
and what becomes so evident
is this error protruding like
a tail from a body
like rabbit ears from your face
you feel like a fraction reduced
to its lowest terms
but you cannot be subdued by the
urge of sweet dishonesty
the self pretending to be right always?
to err is to be human
and to be most human is to accept
the errors of all errors,
yourself....
you take the correct decision
you expose your tongue and show
them your rabbit ears that
you have such a funny long tail
you laugh at yourself and you laugh
with all of them
the room is filled with laughter
there is no chatter
and they all clap at you
for on this day
you have become a great man.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shout Into My Ears ' I Love You
o universe in your sweet whirls
shout into my ears 'i love you! '
my eyes are small
can't hold you in full measure -
yours too large to take note of me
but shout into my heart
' i love you! ' as i do.
-s.chandra kalaadhar
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Morning after morning he opens my ear that I may hear; And I have not rebelled, have not turned back.
that red ant is too small
for the mountain of
a grain of steamed rice
cold grain
alone on the floor
but he carries it
for something useful in
mind
for the queen
never has it resisted
a challenge
to serve
it does not have a back
to turn
in silence
it carries the burden
ears as antenna
detecting what must be kept
for good
for use
for other's consumption
it does not eat
whatever it finds
it simply does its duty
and gives
that is his treasure
must we too
open our ears
receive those messages
not keeping
any wisdom like a treasure
in the islands of
our convoluted brains
and simply giving
what we find
to all those thirsty
minds?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knight
better a giddy girl with a flower
then a foolish boy with a horse and a stick
my dearest diva, i have not seen you since
i miss your beautiful face
but even more your wonderful wit
i miss you like a flower misses the sun
like a fish without water
a blind man without ears
like a knight without a horse
be quick be funny be cunning
your name makes no matter to me
as long as i can call you my own
this pain is my doing
but i was taught to take the bad with the good
hopefully the good will be mine doing as well
poem by Keemusabi Tzu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ears are sensuous.
Ears are as much a part
In sexual stimuli
Of a woman’s facial beauty.
Who cares?
Even poets underplay them.
Lobes with no jewels on
Make women look barren.
Observe
Ears play hidden kicks.
Ear ornaments are the first pick
For a woman to be bejeweled.
Give a kiss on her ears’ back.
It is more than one on her lips.
26.04.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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How to Name Your Familiar
When the devil brings him,
like a Christmas puppy,
examine his downy fur & smell
his small paws for the scent
of sulphur.
Is he a child of hell?
O clearly those soft brown eyes
speak volumes
of deviltry.
O surely those small pink teats
could suckle witches.
O those floppy ears
hear only the devil's hissing.
O that small pink tongue
will lick & lick at your heart
until only Satan may
slip in.
A fuzzy white dog?
Name him Catch.
A little black kitten?
She is Jamara.
A tiny brown rabbit?
Call her Pyewackett.
Beware, beware-
the soft, the innocent,
the kingdom of cuddly ones-
All these
expose you to the jealous tongues
of neighbors' flames,
all these
are the devil's snares!
Familiars familiars-
there is hellfire lurking
in the softest fur,
brimstone in the pinkest tongue,
damnation everlasting
in a purr.
poem by Erica Jong
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Mutuality
i like your ears
you think
i am just flattering you
i suggest
you see your ears
using my eyes
as your mirror
still you do not
trust me
how can you be so indifferent?
i will buy you a mirror,
and now
use it, see?
your ears are
so beautiful
because
they are deaf
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.
Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song: One Hard Look
Small gnats that fly
In hot July
And lodge in sleeping ears,
Can rouse therein
A trumpet's din
With Day-of-Judgement fears.
Small mice at night
Can wake more fright
Than lions at midday.
An urchin small
Torments us all
Who tread his prickly way.
A straw will crack
The camel's back,
To die we need but sip,
So little sand
As fills the hand
Can stop a steaming ship.
One smile relieves
A heart that grieves
Though deadly sad it be,
And one hard look
Can close the book
That lovers love to see--
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Presentation matters
An ass, too, is nice
if well photographed.
Even a horse is shabby
if poorly photographed.
An old woman looks a beauty
if drawn by a good artist.
Narration, not the theme
makes a story good.
Not what you said or did,
but how you said or did did, matters.
14.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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