The way your little finger moved
AH, God, the way your little finger moved
As you thrust a bare arm backward
And made play with your hair
And a comb a silly gilt comb
Ah, God--that I should suffer
Because of the way a little finger moved.
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Comb Your Hair
Girl comb your hair
It can't be that bad
I had it worse
Don't look so sad No money in the bank
No car to drive
I had to walk
But I survived You'll see some laugh
You'll see some smile
Your day will come
Just wait a while No suit in the closet
No shoes on the rack
One dress on the hanger
But you'll be back Comb your hair
And wash your face
Dry your tears
Thank God for grace
poem by MBA Carrie May Bennett
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Wrapped Around Your Finger
You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Staring at the ring around your finger.
I have only come here seeking knowledge,
Things they would not teach me of in college.
I cant see the best in me
That you saw
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Mephistopheles is not your name,
But I know what you're up to just the same.
I will listen hard to your tuition,
And you will see it come to it's fruition.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
Devil and the deep blue sea behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me.
I will turn your face to alabaster,
Then you'll find your servant is your master,
And you'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger.
You'll be wrapped around my finger.
I'll be wrapped around your finger
song performed by by Underoath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quintetto
[To the tune of "Turning, turning, turning, as wheel goes round."]
RECITATIVE. MR. PAPERSTAMP:
Jack Horner's CHRISTMAS PIE my learned nurse
Interpreted to mean the public purse.
From thence a plum he drew. O happy Horner!
Who would not be ensconced in thy snug corner
THE FIVE:
While round the public board all eagerly we linger,
for what we can get we will try, try, try:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. FEATHERNEST:
By my own poetic laws, I'm a dealer in applause
For those who don't deserve it, but will buy, buy
So round the court I linger, and thus I get a finget
A finger, finger, finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. VAMP:
My share of pie to win, I will dash through thick and thin
And philosophy and liberty shall fly, fly, fly:
And truth and taste shall know, that their eve Iasting foe
Has a finger, finger, finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. KILLTHEDEAD:
I'll make my verses rattle with the din of war and battle,
For war doth increase sa-la-ry, ry, ry:
And I'll shake the public ears with the triumph of Algiers,
And thus I ll get a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. PAPERSTAMP:
And while you thrive by ranting, I'll try my luck at canting,
And scribble verse and prose all so dry, dry, dry:
And Mystic's patent smoke public intellect shall choke,
Arld we ll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
We'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
MR. ANYSIDE ANTIJACK:
My tailor is so clever, that my coat will turn for ever,
And take any colour you can dye, dye, dye:
For all my earthly wishes are among the loaves and fishes,
And to have my little finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
THE FIVE:
And we'll all have a finger, a finger, a finger,
We'll all have a finger in the CHRISTMAS PIE.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Best Way to Comb the Blonde Hair
Years is the worst unforgivable hairstylist
He cuts my hair short;
shorter than our short story..
He cuts my hair off;
off the last relationship..
Now it's 4 sharp in the afternoon,
i, wooden, seize the comb, wooden.
Mirror does not tell lies
age can only climb high.
the comb runs through my hair
my hair flows through somewhere
more strands of hair are gone..
more worries are born
I forget how I combed hair
back in those years..
A young blonde is coming..
and i gonna ask her this question.
poem by Garland Jodie Jeen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outshining the Sun.
Bob West said
why are you always
looking towards
the girl's playground?
Looking for someone
you replied
who? Bob asked
A girl who gets
on my school bus
Bob pulled a face
and combed
his black oily hair
is she good looking?
Like an angel
you said
and peered
at the playground
across the way
where girls were
skipping or walking
in pairs
See her yet?
Bob asked
no not yet
you muttered
wishing you had
hoping she'd come
into view
don't see any point in girls
Bob said
putting his comb away
in a top pocket
wiping his hands
on his grey trousers
my dad said
they're only after two things
money and babies
steer away from them Bob
he said
you watched
as girls moved
about the playground
each dressed in grey skirts
and green tops
haven't you ever
been moved by a girl?
You asked
moved? Bob said
moved?
Ain't no girl
going to move me
he muttered
spit hanging
on his lower lip
like a suicidal
waiting to jump
what's this angel girl got
that's so special?
He said taking out
a handkerchief
and wiping his brow
I don't know
you replied
and as you said it
you saw her
come in to view
outshining the sun
more beautiful
than summer
and staring at you.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can't Put My Finger On It
Is it alive, does it writhe
Can it survive under the sun?
I can't put my finger on it.
Is it green, is it red
Is it alive or is it dead
I can't put my finger on it
Scathe with a lathe
All the days in the past
I can't put my finger on it
Is it brown, is it white
Is it really outta sight
I can't put my finger on it
Can it squeal, does it squirm
If it's fresh will it burn?
I can't put my finger on it
Can it fly, will it try
If the wings are still wet?
I can't put my finger on it
Can it heal, is it real
Can it feel the threads of time?
I can't put my finger on it
Does it glow, will it shine
Does it leave a trail of slime
I can't put my finger on it
Are you surprised when I touch the dwarf inside?
(Repeat three times)
(Repeat first verse
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Shall Not Be Moved
You will take my breath away,
Gild my heart with your love-
I shall not be moved.
My eyes will gloat at your sashay,
My lips will droll at your pulchritude-
I shall not be moved.
You will come with religions of faiths,
A heap of mountains you have moved-
Still I shall not be moved.
You will give me strongest of philtres,
Your touch will erect my one weakness-
But I shall not be moved.
You will light my darkest paths,
Move me here to there-
Yet I shall not be moved.
You will sing our song,
Your love for me will exceed eternity,
Even then, I shall not be moved.
You will live for me,
Die for me- For the last time-
I shall not be moved.
poem by Isunge Mwangase
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer Rain Came Suddenly
Summer rain came suddenly
and you and she
had just got off the school bus
and had to run for shelter
and so entered the wood
and settled beneath some trees
which at least kept off
some of the rain
and as you both stood there
looking about the woodland
and listening to the rain
fighting its way through
the overhead branches and leaves
smelling the rain smell
hearing the sound
of rain falling
she said suddenly
That was unexpected
one minute the sun's shining
the next the downpour
and she turned
and looked at you
raindrops falling down
from her hair onto
the side of her nose
and sitting there
for a few moments
then sliding down
and moving along
her cheek
and you wiped
the drops off
with the end of your finger
and she took your finger
and mouthed it
and licked off the rain
and held your finger
in her hand
and said laughing
That was my raindropp
and you saw
how her lips parted
and in such a way
that you sensed
an inner explosion
of what you thought of
as love and said
Rain is rain
it's got its own smell
and touch
and feel
and she moved her lips
to your finger
and licked it once more
and you laughed
and felt your heart leap inside
and she said
releasing your finger
Love is love
something like rain
something you feel
and sense and know
and she kissed you and said
Mum' ll wonder where I am
we'd better go
and moving out
from beneath the trees
you ran off together
into the falling rain
all over again.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silently She's Combing
Silently she's combing,
Combing her long hair
Silently and graciously,
With many a pretty air.
The sun is in the willow leaves
And on the dappled grass,
And still she's combing her long hair
Before the looking-glass.
I pray you, cease to comb out,
Comb out your long hair,
For I have heard of witchery
Under a pretty air,
That makes as one thing to the lover
Staying and going hence,
All fair, with many a pretty air
And many a negligence.
poem by James Joyce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Can't Put My Finger On It
[chanting]
Is it alive, does it writhe
Can it survive under the sun?
I can't put my finger on it
Is it green, is it red
Is it alive or is it dead
I can't put my finger on it
Scathe with a lathe
All the days in the past
I can't put my finger on it
Is it brown, is it white
Is it really outta sight
I can't put my finger on it
Do you know what i'm saying?
Do you know what i'm saying, people?
Can it squeal, does it squirm
If it's fresh will it burn?
I can't put my finger on it
Can it fly, will it try
If the wings are still wet?
I can't put my finger on it
Can it heal, is it real
Can it feel the threads of time?
I can't put my finger on it
Does it glow, will it shine
Does it leave a trail of slime
I can't put my finger on it
I tell you one time...
Are you surprised when i touch the dwarf inside?
(repeat three times)
(repeat first verse)
Ha ha ha...oh yeah, oh yeah!
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Boy's Trials
When I was but a little lad
One thing I could not bear,
It was to stand at mother's knee
And have her comb my hair.
They didn't keep boys' hair as short
As it's kept now-a-days,
And mine was always tangled up
In twenty different ways.
I'd twist my mouth and grit my teeth,
And say it wasn't fair-
It was a trial, and no mistake,
When mother combed my hair.
She'd brush and brush each stubborn curl
That grew upon my pate,
And with her scissors nip and clip
To make the edges straight.
Then smooth it down until it shone,
While I would grin and bear,
And feel a martyr through and through,
When mother combed my hair.
She'd take my round chin in her hand
And hold it there the while
She made the parting carefully,
Then tell me with a smile:
'Don't push your cap down on your curls
And spoil my work and care;
He is a pretty little lad
When mother combs his hair.'
I'd hurry out and rumple up
That mop of hair so thick-
A vandal, I, for she had worked
So hard to make it slick-
And wish I were a grown-up man
So nobody would dare
To put a washrag in my ears,
Or comb my tangled hair.
Heigho! now that I'm bald and gray,
Methinks I would be glad
To have her smooth my brow and cheeks,
And whisper, 'Mother's lad!'
A longing for the care-free days
Doth take me unaware;
To stand, a boy, at mother's knee
And have her comb my hair.
poem by Jean Blewett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wrapped around your finger
You consider me the young apprentice
Caught between the Scylla and Charibdes.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger
Starring at the ring around your finger
I have only come here seeking knowledge
Things they wouldn't teach me of in college
I can see the destiny you sold
Turn into a shining band of hope
I'll be wrapped around your finger
I'll be wrapped around your finger
Nafostaveles is not your name
But I know what you're up to just the same
I will listen hard to your tuition
You will see it come to it's fruition
I'll be wrapped around your finger
I'll be wrapped around your finger
Devil and the deep blue see behind me
Vanish in the air you'll never find me
I will turn you face to alabaster
Then you'll find you're servant is your master
You'll be wrapped around my finger
You'll be wrapped around my finger
You'll be wrapped around my finger
song performed by by Green Lizard from Identity
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Face Smiles Back Easily - Hundred Mile High City B-side
Its not the way that you look
Or the way that you comb your hair
I know well always be there
By the look, by the book
And your troops and your devil may care
I know well always be there
I know well always be there
And by the way your eyes are shining through
Theres nothing to do but wake up in light
And like the way your eyes they shine with the sun
And lighten everyone who wakes up in time to see
The face smiled back easily
I know well always be there
By the look, by the book
And your troops as your devil may care
I know well always be there
I know well always be there
Its not the way that you look
Or the way that you comb your hair
I know well always be there (x3)
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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051410G cuddling around
throbbing reverberates around
slipping through known sound
i'm enjoying holding your hand
i lean my face on your warm palm
you comb my hair with your fingers
you bend getting closer for whispers
quick strum of guitar raise my eyelids
i turn searching; where is your lips
you started to talk i put my finger on
you remain quiet and wanted to bite
i pulled and i tickled you, on your side
you hug my head between your chest
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Here Comes Yet Another Day
Here comes yet another day, creeping through my window.
Drank myself to sleep last night, beer stains on my pillow.
I gotta pull my things together,
The night can last forever.
Here comes a new dawn, here comes a new day
Tune up start to play, just like any other day.
Cant stop, cant be late, mustnt make the people wait.
Cant even comb my hair or even change my underwear,
Here comes a new dawn, here comes a new day,
Tune up start to play, just like any other day.
There goes another night, here comes another flight,
Cant stop gotta go, here comes yet another show.
Gotta pack up my clothes, brush my teeth, blow my nose.
No time to use the john, gotta keep a rollin on.
Here comes a new day, here comes a new stage,
Tune up start to play, just like any other day.
Made a lot of conversation, talked a lot of weather,
I hope we meet again some day, and spend some time together.
No time for affection,
Im moving in a new direction.
Here comes a new dawn, here comes a new day,
Tune up start to play, just like any other day.
Cant stop, cant be late, mustnt make the people wait.
Cant stop to comb my hair or even change my underwear.
See that morning break, oh lord, here comes yet another day,
Here comes a new dawn, here comes a new day
Tune up start to play, just like any other day.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Combing My Hair
Now people always come around
But they don't always stick around
I run a comb across my head
I wish my hair would settle down
The clock I see is running slow
The batteries are running low
I run a comb across my head
And it feels the same like it did before
You're just another first footer across my door
And little less care (hair?) than I had last year
But it doesn't worry me because I
I have no fear
Here
The car I see is painted black
I'm steering (staring) at the driver's back
He runs a comb across his head
And it feels the same like it did before
You're just another fresh fare across his door
And little less care than he had last year
But it doesn't worry him because he
He has no fear
Here, here
Now people always come around
But they don't always stick around
They run a comb across your head
I wish my hair would settle down
The clock I see is running slow
We've only got three years to go
We run our combs across our heads
And it feels the same like it did before
You're just another first footer across the door
And little less care than we took last year
But it doesn't worry us because we
We have no fear
Here
Have we
We have no fear
Have we
We have no fear
song performed by by Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Put The Finger On You
I put the finger on you
My hands all out of control
I cant stop it getting down on you
Its moving on its own accord
Yes, Ive got fire in my finger tips
Radiating onto you
I cant control it, cant even hold it
Its knocking on your door
And you know what its for
Chorus:
I put the finger right on you
I put the finger right on you
You put your finger on me too
Then I put the finger, I put the finger
Yeah I put the finger, I put the finger
I put the finger on you for sure
Its the key to unlocking your door, dont you know
Ive broken through your security
My hands aint tied no more, you better watch out
I cant control it, cant even hold it
Speaking up for pleasure
You can feel it on your ankle
Feel it on your knee
Feel it on your thigh
Can you feel me?
Chorus
I cant control it, cant even hold it
Sneaking up on your front door
You can feel it on your ankle
Feel it on your knee
Feel it on your thigh
Can you feel me?
Put it - right on you
Ill do it if you want me to
Can I put it?
I put the finger on you
I hit the spot
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A woman will have a taker
One woman is fair; I was moved.
The other one is wise; I was moved.
The third one is modest; I was moved.
The fourth one is rich; I was moved.
The fifth one is smart; I was moved.
Any woman will have a taker.
10.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mermaid
I
Who would be
A mermaid fair,
Singing alone,
Combing her hair
Under the sea,
In a golden curl
With a comb of pearl,
On a throne?
II
I would be a mermaid fair;
I would sing to myself the whole of the day;
With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair;
And still as I comb'd I would sing and say,
'Who is it loves me? who loves not me?'
I would comb my hair till my ringlets would fall
Low adown, low adown,
From under my starry sea-bud crown
Low adown and around,
And I should look like a fountain of gold
Springing alone
With a shrill inner sound
Over the throne
In the midst of the hall;
Till that great sea-snake under the sea
From his coiled sleeps in the central deeps
Would slowly trail himself sevenfold
Round the hall where I sate, and look in at the gate
With his large calm eyes for the love of me.
And all the mermen under the sea
Would feel their immortality
Die in their hearts for the love of me.
III
But at night I would wander away, away,
I would fling on each side my low-flowing locks,
And lightly vault from the throne and play
With the mermen in and out of the rocks;
We would run to and fro, and hide and seek,
On the broad sea-wolds in the crimson shells,
Whose silvery spikes are nighest the sea.
But if any came near I would call and shriek,
And adown the steep like a wave I would leap
From the diamond-ledges that jut from the dells;
For I would not be kiss'd by all who would list
Of the bold merry mermen under the sea.
They would sue me, and woo me, and flatter me,
In the purple twilights under the sea;
But the king of them all would carry me,
Woo me, and win me, and marry me,
In the branching jaspers under the sea.
Then all the dry-pied things that be
In the hueless mosses under the sea
Would curl round my silver feet silently,
All looking up for the love of me.
And if I should carol aloud, from aloft
All things that are forked, and horned, and soft
Would lean out from the hollow sphere of the sea,
All looking down for the love of me.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Jesus Came To Play
I was in my watering-hole with some ugly friends of mine
When he door came off its hinges like a cork from fizzy wine.
He said, ''my name is jesus: Im the leader of the band.
Got to set up my equipment, if you boys can lend a hand.
Oh yeah. when jesus came to play.
He set that bandstand jumping. yeah, and he cranked it up so loud.
And he moved up to the microphone: had the attention of the crowd.
He said, ''my name is jesus: going to turn your head around.
Im going to make this easy. got no time to mess around.
Oh yeah. when jesus came to play.
''i got no twelve disciples, and I got no cross to bear.
If you thought they had me crucified, I guess you werent there.
Oh yeah. when jesus came to play. when jesus came...
He sang about three or four numbers, but wed heard it all before.
We boys were getting restless: no girls were moving on the floor.
Those parables, they were merciless and the tables overturned.
And there were no minor miracles
But false prophets they were burned.
Well, maybe he was jesus;
But his hair could have used a comb.
Long before he hit the last notes, we boys had all gone home.
Oh yeah. when jesus came to play.
Oh jesus, is it really you?
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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