Smell
Oh strong-ridged and deeply hollowed
nose of mine! what will you not be smelling?
What tactless asses we are, you and I, boney nose,
always indiscriminate, always unashamed,
and now it is the souring flowers of the bedreggled
poplars: a festering pulp on the wet earth
beneath them. With what deep thirst
we quicken our desires
to that rank odor of a passing springtime!
Can you not be decent? Can you not reserve your ardors
for something less unlovely? What girl will care
for us, do you think, if we continue in these ways?
Must you taste everything? Must you know everything?
Must you have a part in everything?
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Related quotes
Nose
No one cares for the nose
To go nose straight is the tao
If there were no eyes
You could see better with your nose
If there were no nose
you wouldnot distinguish the sweet from the bitter
And there would be no value judgements in the world
And it is the nose that keeps you hot in the cold
And that keeps you cold in Jakodabad
The nose is the vigilant customs officer
That does not allow any drug to your lungs
And the nose cannot be bribed
Oh Nose! the customs officer of the body
And the pivot of value judgement in the world
If that name thou love
Remain with us and teach the noseless world
That it must have a nose in this wartorn world
He who knows the greatness of nose
Surely goes to the realm of rose
In the life to come
Hurrah Let us compose hymns to nose
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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Why Do You Bob Your Nose, Girl ?
(kinky friedman)
Why do you bob your nose, girls, it does not look so nice,
If it' s just to keep in fashion, it's not the lord's advice.
Well, you mangle mother nature and brave the lord's command
You care about your nose, girls, and reach the glory land.
Why do you bob your nose, girls, it's not the thing to do,
Run with that nose and some day the lord may say to you:
You naughty little booger, you honky tonkin' hose
But at least i'm glad for one thing: you'sll never bob your nose.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No hearing no smelling
No hearing no smelling
Ears eyes nose tongue
Not mine.
We are here to
Make this world heaven
We are here to tell
Without mouth.
Only seeing is
Your work
And we are to
Wander here
East west
North south.
Feeling is only ours
Through this poem
I want to say
Who care.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Be Glad Your Nose is on Your Face
Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.
Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.
Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your head,
it soon would drive you to despair,
forever tickled by your hair.
Within your ear, your nose would be
an absolute catastrophe,
for when you were obliged to sneeze,
your brain would rattle from the breeze.
Your nose, instead, through thick and thin,
remains between your eyes and chin,
not pasted on some other place--
be glad your nose is on your face!
poem by Jack Prelutsky
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Untitled...
Untitled!
A girl of beauty, always a smile on her and the ones she touched
Full of love and grace and the will to learn,
Nothing could stand in her way!
Or so she thought…
This girl of beauty was neglected
By the one who was suppose to love her unconditionally
He abandoned her and she never knew why
Her tears flowed down stinging her disfigured body and soul
This girl of beauty has a STD
And she doesn’t know
But shit can’t anybody see
Looking in the mirror that’s not her
It was the father she longed for, reached for
But that is all he was a reflection…
In her mind she thought there are ways
Ways to fill this void and once again smile
This girl of beauty has a STD
And she doesn’t know
But shit can’t anybody see?
Her body became her weakness as it was molested and tainted
They would fill her for that moment
until they too where gone
This girl of beauty has a STD
And she doesn’t know
But shit can’t anybody see
She always found a replacement
And she would give all she’s got
But he always wanted more
She felt she had to prove or he too shall be gone
So that’s what she did let him hit it raw
Chlamydia, gonorrhea, syphilis…what beautiful flowers he gave her
This girl of beauty she has an STD
And she doesn’t know
But shit can’t anybody see
White powdered nose, bright coloured pills
These became her escape
These became her friends
Out at the club with her new friends
She’d once again aim to please
Who ever it was never said no
Just promised her flowers like all others before
This girl of beauty has a STD
And she doesn’t know it
But shit can’t anybody see
She was blessed with child but rejected her gift
Her nose stayed powdered and she popped those coloured pills
This girl of beauty has a std
And she doesn’t know
But shit can’t you see
Never knew where she slept or why her body bled
But no one reached out to find truly what’s wrong
She never knew and she never cared
When he came he promised to stay this might be him
…the father she’d lost
So she gave him her body but he shredded it to pieces
And left her lying naked
But on her chest he laid his flower
This girl of beauty has a STD
And she doesn’t know
But shit can’t anybody see
Her jewel flowed red as she staggered in pain
As a part of her was ripped from her womb
Where is the other half?
With him? or him, maybe him
Shit she’ll never know
This girl of beauty has a STD
But she don’t know
But shit can’t anybody see
In her hand she held her bouquet
Carried it with pride
But it bared all her shame
By day her bouquet grew big
They gave her all kinds of flowerers
Which to her look enchanting
But these flowerers smell of shame, disgust and disappointment
But how can she tell wit her nose powdered white
This girl of beauty has a STD
And she doesn’t know
But shit can’t anybody see
Now she doesn’t care for love
Herself
Him, him, and defiantly him
She’s found a dark place to put all this pain
A place she knows no one will dare enter
Her body so ripped
Her heart no beat
Nothing is left but all of his pain
Unbearable
She cries…cries
From deep down and asks for some peace
This girl with her STD
A
Soul Tattered and Dead
And she now knows but it is way too late
This girl of beauty now has
AIDS
Alone In Dead Souls
And in her mind there she is free…
But shit you still don’t see
Or you, you and defiantly you.
Lerato Ladyfair Shuping
October 11,2007
poem by Lerato Shuping
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There was an Old Man with a nose,
Who said, 'If you choose to suppose,
That my nose is too long,
You are certainly wrong!'
That remarkable Man with a nose.
by Edward Lear from A Book of Nonsense (1846)
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Nothing Compares To You
your nose is a big flat tire
but never did i tell you that there is a need to inflate
any part of it,
it is still the same nose to me
the one that i kissed
and loved
despite all the odds,
what a mess
but what a loveliness!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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O! What a nose!
People talk about a running nose
I'm talking about a long facial cargo
She’s got a nose longer than my longest toes
With a mission of being nosy as time goes
Please don’t get close
When she discloses
Her loud snoring doze
Don’t be like the heroes
Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
What a precious nose pose!
Painted as red as a romantic rose
Standing long like my garden pipe hose
And as she sniffs, sneezes and exposes
I cannot help thinking of Pinocchio’s nose
Goodness gracious
O! What a nose!
Goodness gracious
Red and long when it snows
And this nose is nosy
She can smell a rat, cat or a bat
When you are getting cozy
In your one bedroom flat
O! What a nose!
In and out juice flows
And when she smells the air
They all cannot help but stare
Copyright 2008 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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My Nose Is Growing Old
Yup.
A long lazy September look
in the mirror
say it's true.
I'm 31
and my nose is growing
old.
It starts about 1/2
an inch
below the bridge
and strolls geriatrically
down
for another inch or so:
stopping.
Fortunately, the rest
of the nose is comparatively
young.
I wonder if girls
will want me with an
old nose.
I can hear them now
the heartless bitches!
"He's cute
but his nose
is old."
poem by Richard Brautigan
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Sugar bush I want you
Sugar bush I want you
sounds magically from the
alfalfa field
where small blue flowers
are between the green
and a sweet smell
rise in my nose
and the sky is bright blue
as if summer
is holding a festival,
but it’s your deep blue eyes
that draws my glance
and your blond curls
hanging out beneath
your straw hat.
Maybe I have to tell more
about a boy and a girl
meeting each other
in the alfalfa field,
but everyone already knows
where these words go...
poem by Gert Strydom
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Members Only
Uncle Larry's hooked on ice again
He seems to be stuck in the 80's
He wears his members only jacket
Cause he thinks it turns on all the ladies
And all the white folks shake their asses
Looking for the two and four
I'll have mine in martini glasses
Cause I can't take it anymore
These are the days of empty kitchens
The rise and fall of Mary Ellen's hairdo
I think she's found a new religion
Studying the Kabalah in her J Crew
And all the rich kids shake their asses
Looking for the two and four
Well I'll have mine with Blackstrap molasses
Cause I can't taste it anymore
No I can't taste it anymore
My friend Greg says it's all good
As the eastern seaboard's blown away
Now everything is going half-price
So look at all the money we saved
And all the politicians shake their asses
Looking for the backdoor
I'll just be hanging out with the lasses
Cause they don't like the boys no more
No and I can't take it anymore
song performed by by Sheryl Crow from Globe Sessions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I want a girl
I want a girl
Wrapped deep from the cold
Snug warm in her wool hat and scarf
I want a girl
All round to be hold
Red tip on her nose makes me laugh
I want a girl
Who faces, no cares
The chill and the freeze with such class
I want a girl
Who smiles, no tears
When she slips and she falls on her arse
I want a girl
At the end of the day
To take home, unwrap and revive
I want a girl
Who’s happy this way
Content to just feel alive.
poem by Chris Dawson
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He who puts his nose in a turd does not know what he is smelling.
Turned-up nose
I want to clear this matter up some way
And at the same time make my point
That love note I sent you the other day?
The one that got your nose all out of joint?
I think I simply typed too fast
And didn’t say what I meant to say
Not …“I like your huge, turnip nose”…
But “I like your cute turned up nose”
Was What I really meant to say
poem by David Whalen
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A freudian slip (who nose?)
I want to clear this matter up some way
And at the same time make my point
That love note I sent you the other day?
The one that got your nose all out of joint?
I think I simply typed too fast
And didn’t say what I meant to say
Not …“I like your huge, turnip nose”…
But “I like your cute turned up nose”
Was What I really meant to say
poem by David Whalen
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The Spring and I
What is it about a springtime morn
that makes me feel I've just been born?
Is it the air smelling so sweet
that creates for me a new heartbeat?
Or the blossoming petals all anew
that creates new visions for me to view?
Maybe it's the tranquil blue skies
that's encouraged me to arise
and see the world differently
with uninformed opinions
an unadulterated sensitivity
that makes me feel brand new.
Maybe it's the springtime rain
that falls with purpose and poise
like a lullabye devoid of noise
that soothes my newness and my form.
Is that what makes me feel newborn?
If it is then let it rain each morn.
But as the grass and flowers grow
it is with sorrow that I know
that my feelings of rebirth
will join the ages of the earth.
The springtime is just a short respite
like the older form that I must fit.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Infant Of The Snows
Snow leopard cub, just lying there,
At present, all alone,
With no-one else nearby to care
Your bed is made of stone...
With snow a-falling close to you,
How long will you stay warm?
And what on Earth can small cubs do,
If there should be a storm?
Snow leopard cub, just lying still,
Your small white nose so cold,
Do you possess an iron will,
The patience to grow old?
Have you the courage to endure,
The true grit and reserve?
If yes, then may God grant you more,
If you can hold your nerve...
Snow leopard cub, should I draw near?
Have you the will to live?
Is your young heart now filled with fear?
New hope I hope to give...
To wait a while, would that be wrong?
I have some food to share,
Yes, here it is... Eat up, be strong...
Take heart, do not despair...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Gotta Bad Nose Job
Bah bah bah babbay,
You brought the Moon.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Stars.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Sun,
Right into my heart!
Bah,
Babbay...
And when I sleep.
Bah,
Babbay...
My dreams get to leaping.
Bah,
Babbay...
And you know...
I am up to pace the floor.
'Cause I know,
You know...
I gotta bad nose job!
Bah
Bababy...
You brought the Stars.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Sun,
Right into my heart!
And you know...
I know,
I gotta bad nose job!
Bah bah bah babbay,
You brought the Moon.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Stars.
Bah,
Babbay...
You brought the Sun,
Right into my heart!
And you know...
I know you know,
I gotta bad nose job!
Yes I know you know...
I've got that bad nose job!
'You wanna put some 'salsa'
On that 'lemon merange'?
Do ya!
For your rhythmic pleasure?
Do ya?
And seal it with a French kiss?
Do ya? '
Yes I know...
You KNOW,
I've got that bad nose job.
Bah babbay...
Yes I've got it.
Bah babbay...
Yes I do.
Bah babbay...
Yes I've got it.
And you know it too.
Yes I know...
You KNOW I've-got-that BAD nose job!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh My Gosh!
Oh my gosh!
Here we are...
Washing,
Clothes.
Oh my gosh!
Here we are...
Nose to nose.
And,
Washing clothes.
Folding the sheets we laid on.
Together you and I...
After a wetness sweated us,
In a rocking that followed with sleep.
To awaken after we slept.
Welcomed by a dawning Sun...
To greet us in the morning,
With a glowing on our faces...
Shown to be done.
And OH my gosh!
Here we are,
Washing clothes.
Nose to nose and folding sheets.
Something tells me,
A togetherness is certain.
Something else tells me...
You will have me ironing the curtains,
If I don't put my foot down...
To speak up to say,
This 'sweetness' I may display today...
Is a rarity witnessed,
You will one day see...
Is not part of my personality.
Like you,
I will not be left impressed.
Just because we had another night...
Of unexpected delicious sex!
'Honey...
I can't believe we've been together,
For more than twenty years! '
I know. I know!
I'll iron those curtains,
When I get back home...
Okay?
'Anything for you, dear.
You know that! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Springtime
Over the valleys and over the mountains,
Borne on the wings of the south wind I come;
Breaking the ice-chains, unloosing the fountains,
Waking all Nature to beauty and bloom.
Flowers from the green turf in myriads are springing;
Zephyrs are faint with the perfume they bear;
While the voices of Earth, Air, and Ocean are singing,
Hail to the springtime! the youth of the year!
Oh, gather my rosebuds and sport in my bowers,
Children of Earth, while my footsteps I stay.
Wreathe with your garlands my vanishing hours,
Which like life's sunny springtime are passing away.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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