Harry Styles
Harry Styles Simile Poem
By: Kayla Thomas
He looks as handsome as a prince,
His hair is as untamed and free spirited as a bird,
His nose is like a sloping mountain,
His eyes are as blue as sapphires,
He speaks as clear as a bell,
His face looks as smooth as a baby's bottom,
He walks as cool as a cucumber,
His smile is as happy as a lark,
His teeth are as white as pearls,
His clothes are as crisp as new linen,
His band members are as different as chalk from cheese,
His personality is a sweet as a tub of honey,
He is my Idol.
poem by Kayla Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Looking For A Prince
A spirited girl
With long blonde hair, long legs to match.
Her clear eyes untroubled
Waiting on the cusp of life
For prince charming to appear,
Appear and whisk her off,
Off to his mansion in the sky.
So fall in love she did,
In love with a tall dark man,
A man of swarthy skin.
With eyes so deep,
Deep blue eyes in which to swim
And see the oceans depths.
But then came the babies one, two, three.
Money grew tight and she grew thin
And love flew out the door.
The prince turned into an ogre
Making her blue eyes black.
Now her spirit is knocked out
And she knocked up
Is knocked about
And the prince?
He's nowhere to be seen.
poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem For A Poem
She asks me
What is a poem?
Her shapely nose,
Her lips like two slices of water melon,
Her eyes reflecting clear blue sky,
Her thick hair like dark grey clouds,
Her horizon-like forehead
Are poems.
Frolicking of children,
Gossiping old women,
Cheering buddies gathered to spend an evening together,
Waiting travellers with carry-on bags in hand,
Strolling couples in a park, picnickers,
Are all features of a poem.
Lively sunlight warming the sanitorium stairs,
A nude poster,
A gypsy girl,
Are poems.
Ramble through a wonderland,
Laughter at an amusement park,
Still blue lake,
Scream of herons slipping on the rocks,
Thunder of a water fall,
Symphony of four seasons,
Song of pure rains,
Silent hunch of rainbow, arching over all,
Are poems.
Children of Bosnia
All are words of a poem.
Prior to gang rape
Women were preambles to poems,
Now they are complete poems.
Suppressed scream of a prisoner
In torture chamber
Is also a poem.
The blood ablaze
In the snow clad valley of Kashmir
Is fast becoming a poem.
Death of the starving in Somalia is a poem.
Coffin of the peace keeping soldier
Is a real-life poem.
She asks me, what is a poem?
Shall I tell her
That her poem inscribing fingers are too a poem
And her handwriting,
Her handsome portrait,
Her brown sandal
Even destiny under her feet
Are a poem.
She knows!
She is a poem to me clad in mauve.
Still she asks me
What is a poem?
(1992, Translated from Urdu by Samina Amjad, Translation reviewed by Lillian Thomas)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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The Mess Of A Man
Meet a man,
A man named Harry,
He's in need of a shave,
And it's quite scary,
He's got hair on his chest,
Hair on his back,
Hair on his ass,
And hair in his crack,
He leaves hair on the soap,
Hair on the floor,
Hair every place,
Including the store,
Harry, dear Harry,
Do something, please,
Your hair retains odor,
And you reek of cheese!
Look at your cat,
What will you do?
Your cat's hairballs,
They're the hairs from you!
No hope, it seems,
For your hairiness,
It'll just regrow,
So live in your mess.
poem by Maddy Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Repeated Poem...
there is a handsome young man
residing in a far away mountain
he writes love poems...
it so happens that there is this
lonely woman who reads each poem
and amazed by said poems
she climbs the mountain to see the
man and tell him that she
loves him too...
the man is puzzled and the woman asks why?
those poems are not
for her, he says
and the woman is sad
goes down the mountain telling herself
that the handsome young man is a liar
and that from that time on
she will never read any of his poems....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Portrait Of A Prince
Behold the tiger's face up close,
With all its deep-etched lines.
Like charcoal ridges by his nose,
How clearly each defines.
Behold the tiger's ears erect,
Aware of all that breathes,
With mental filters that select
The rustling of the leaves.
Behold the tiger's eyes that stare,
As if right through your soul,
To challenge you, be wise, beware,
Take care who's in control...
Behold the tiger's nose below,
It tells him distant facts,
Though out of sight, he's in the know,
So watch out if he acts...
Behold the tiger's tight-lipped mouth,
He hides his daggers well...
His top set north, his dropped set south,
What tales those teeth could tell.
Behold the tiger's neck so still
And poised with regal grace,
Portraying here the prince's will,
Despite the human race...
Behold the tiger's sovereign style,
His sense of who he is...
His wicked ways, his covering guile,
His final parting kiss...
Behold the tiger's treachery!
Flee from his handsome grin!
For in a race, I think you'll see,
That tigers always win!
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Portrait Of A Prince'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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The British Tar
A British tar is a soaring soul,
As free as a mountain bird,
His energetic fist should be ready to resist
A dictatorial word.
His nose should pant and his lip should curl,
His cheeks should flame and his brow should furl,
His bosom should heave and his heart should glow,
And his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.
His eyes should flash with an inborn fire,
His brow with scorn be rung;
He never should bow down to a domineering frown,
Or the tang of a tyrant tongue.
His foot should stamp and his throat should growl,
His hair should twirl and his face should scowl;
His eyes should flash and his breast protrude,
And this should be his customary attitude!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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A Poem Of Syntax
A poet and his bird, his dog, his cat and his tree
A poet and the bird in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree and the wind and the cloud
The bird in the tree, the dog in the tree, the cat in the tree,
The bird in the tree, the dog on the tree, the cat under the tree,
The bird on the tree, the bird in a tree, a bird in a tree, a bird in the tree,
And the wind and the cloud and the poet and his dog and his cat and the tree
The dog chases the cat the cat chases the bird
And they all arrive in that tree
Where the poet is sitting under that tree
The poet takes the dog and the cat was envious
And the bird looks at them in silence
The silence looks at the poet in the eye
Of the cat and the bird flies away
The poet and the dog is the poem of friendship
The cat and the dog is the poem of the endless natural quarrels
And the bird that flies away against the cat and the dog and the poet and the tree
And flies against the wind that the bird is now fighting
And the clouds that seem so blue and blue
The bird that actually flies away
Is actually me
I was not the poet with the dog
I am not the tree I am not the wind I am not the cloud I am not the poet there who had a dog as friend and I was not the quarrelsome thing from the blue and out of the blue
I am the bird with wings and I always fly away to places
Against the wind to places where I can be as always be the bird with wings in silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Untamed
I like to be a little wild
I like to raise a little Cain
I wanna keep it on the edge
Let my restless heart remain
Untamed
(Chorus)
I wanna live the way I love
And love the way I live
Walk the highest wire and stay out on a limb
Away from any fences
Free of any chains
Unbound
Untied
Untamed
I only want what I got coming
I'll take the credit and the blame
Even when I'm bent and broken
I pray my spirit always stays
Untamed
(Repeat Chorus)
I take no map
I make no plans
I've let go of the reins
I have no rules
I feel no fear
No restraints
Untamed
Away from any fences
Free of any chains
Unbound
Untied
Untamed
song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Untamed
I like to be a little wild
I like to raise a little Cain
I wanna keep it on the edge
Let my restless heart remain
Untamed
(Chorus)
I wanna live the way I love
And love the way I live
Walk the highest wire and stay out on a limb
Away from any fences
Free of any chains
Unbound
Untied
Untamed
I only want what I got coming
I'll take the credit and the blame
Even when I'm bent and broken
I pray my spirit always stays
Untamed
(Repeat Chorus)
I take no map
I make no plans
I've let go of the reins
I have no rules
I feel no fear
No restraints
Untamed
Away from any fences
Free of any chains
Unbound
Untied
Untamed
song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harrys Circumcision - Reverie Gone Astray
Looking in the mirror
Harry didnt like what he saw
The cheeks of his mother, the eyes of his father
As each day crashed around him
The future stood revealed
He was turning into his parents
The final disappointment
Stepping out of the shower
Harry stared at himself
His hairline receding, the slight overbite
He picked up the razor to begin his shaving and thought -
- oh, I wish I was different
I wish I was stronger
I wish I was thinner
I wish I didnt have this nose
These ears that stick out remind me of my father
And I dont want to be reminded at all
The final disappointment
Harry looked in the mirror thinking of vincent van gogh
And with a quick swipe lopped off his nose
And happy with that he made a slice where his chin was
Hed always wanted a dimple
The end of all illusion
Then peering down straight between his legs
Harry thought of the range of possibilities
A new face, a new life, no memories of the past
And slit his throat from ear to ear
Harry woke up with a cough
The stitches made him wince
A doctor smiled at him from
Somewhere across the room
Son, we saved your life
But youll never look the same
And when he heard that
Harry had to laugh
And when he heard that
Harry had to laugh
Although it hurt harry had to laugh
The final disappointment
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harry's Circumcision
Looking in the mirror Harry didn't like what he saw
The cheeks of his mother the eyes of his father
As each day crashed around him the future stood revealed
He was turning into his parents
The final disappointment
Stepping out of the shower Harry stared at himself
His hairline receding the slight overbite
He picked up the razor to begin his shaving
and thought oh I wish I was different
I wish I was stronger I wish I was thinner
I wish I didn't have this nose
These ears that stick out remind me of my father
and I don't want to be reminded at all
The final disappointment
Harry looked into the mirror thinking of Vincent Van Gogh
and with a quick swipe lopped off his nose
And happy with that he made a slice where his chin was
He's always wanted a dimple
The end of all illusion
Then peering down straight between his legs
Harry thought of the range of possibilities
A new face a new life no memories of the past
and slit his throat from ear to ear
Harry woke up with a cough the stitches made his wince
A doctor smiled at him from somewhere across the room
Son we saved your life but you'll never look the same
And when he heard that, Harry had to laugh
Although it hurt Harry had to laugh
The final disappointment
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Princess and the Frog
A princess was out for her morning jog
When, by the pond, she met a frog.
She grabbed the poor thing by its head:
”It might turn into a prince! ” she said.
She closed her eyes and made a wish,
Then gave the frog a sloppy kiss.
The Princess counted One, Two, Three...
And opened up her eyes to see.
In a blinding flash and clouds of smoke,
The frog became a handsome bloke.
He stared at the princess in dismay
Then turned and ran the other way.
”Wait, my darling. Please! “ she cried.
The handsome prince to her replied:
”Go stick your head in the palace bogs -
”I hate a girl who kisses frogs! ”
poem by Melanie Ann Calvert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harry’s Come Marching Home Again (Written In March 2008)
Harry’s come marching home again, Hooray! Hooray!
From Afghanistan, not to roam again, he is back, to stay.
Whilst the flags are out and the bugles blare
I am sure he wishes he still were there.
And we all feel proud Prince Harry has come back home.
Harry’s come flying home again, Hooray! Hooray!
Since media hacks have hunted him down as prey, for pay.
They’ve snitched and let the cat out of the bag
And he’s had to fly home and brave jet lag
And I’m sure he’s sick he’s had to come flying home.
Harry’s come sailing home again, Hooray! Hooray!
It would just have been a security risk to stay, they say.
Now the papers groan and wonder what
They can do with him, now he can’t get shot
But they’ve got their scoop now Harry’s come sailing home.
Harry’s come driving home again, Hooray! Hooray!
Now he can go back on the town again, to play and stray
And the paparazzi will take their snaps
While he’s on the booze with a few of the chaps
And they’ll take their cut now Harry’s come driving home.
Harry’s come marching home again, Hooray! Hooray!
From Afghanistan, not to roam again. Is he back to stay
Till the next time he is sent off to fight,
If they hush it up? Will it all be right?
Do we all feel proud Prince Harry has come back home?
poem by C. Richard Miles
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I Want To Be Free
(words & music by jerry leiber - mike stoller)
Theres no joy in my heart,
Only sorrow
And Im sad
As a man can be
I sit alone in the darkness
Of my lonely room
And this room
Is a prison to me
I look at window
And what to I see
I see a bird
Way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
What good are my eyes,
They cant see you
And my arms,
They cant hold so tight
I have two lips
That are yearning,
But theyre no good to me
Cause I know I cant kiss you tonight
I look at window
And what to I see
I see a bird
Way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
I want to be free
Like the bird in the tree
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Village Don Juan
Lord, I'm grey, my face is run,
But by old Harry, I've had my fun;
And all about, I seem to see
Lads and lassies that look like me;
Ice-blue eyes on every hand,
Handsomest youngsters in the land.
"Old Stud Horse" they say of me,
But back of my beard I laugh with glee.
Far and wide have I sown my seed,
Yet by the gods I've improved the breed:
From byre and stable to joiner's bench,
From landlord's daughter to serving wench.
Ice-blue eyes and blade-straight nose,
Stamp of my virile youth are those;
Now you'll see them on every side,
Proof of my powers, far and wide:
Even the parson' handsome scamp,
And the Doctor's daughter have my stamp.
Many a matron cocks an eye
Of secret knowledge as I pass by;
As for the hubbies, what they don't know
Will never hurt them, so let them go:
The offspring most they seem to prize
Have blade-straight noses and ice-blue byes.
Yet oh, I have a haunting dread
Brother and sister lust the bed;
The Parson's and the Doctor's lass,
Yestreen in the moon I saw them pass;
The thought of them wed is like a knife. . . .
Brother and sister - man and wife.
poem by Robert William Service
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Marx Ernst, The Ghost In The Abstractions Of Kandinsky
an old man leaning on a black pole,
a nude plump woman of the renaissance
inside a stomach,
a man with a big fan as face
his hands mere sketches of helplessness
pointing to the culprit on both sides
a black bird flies away
like a comma of a poem
they form a stress of a family portrait.
a hand is cut. the old man has no foot.
i shifted from the eyes of marx ernst
his eyes are shadows his hair clouds
his face a misty mountain
moving on to kandinsky he finished
life with the strokes of bright colors
and he titles it Fugue, a Black Mountain
to an Unknown Voice.
my first time to see them both.
i am stricken with the beautiful colors of happiness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Want To Be Free (Take 11)
There's no joy in my heart,
only sorrow
And I'm sad
as a man can be
I sit alone in the darkness
of my lonely room
And this room
is a prison to me
I look at window
and what to I see
I see a bird
way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
like the bird in the tree
What good are my eyes,
they can't see you
And my arms,
they can't hold so tight
I have two lips
that are yearning,
but they're no good to me
Cause I know I can't kiss you tonight
I look at window
and what to I see
I see a bird
way up in the tree
I want to be free free
Free - ee - ee - ee
I want to be free
like the bird in the tree
I want to be free
like the bird in the tree
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Works - Good Luck?
Here I sit in solemn repose
while some old bag looks down her nose
words echo around me
and I begin to snort and wheeze
like a bull ready to charge,
but I must be calm.
They talk in riddles
to confuse and fiddle
then I feel my good luck charm in my hand.
My aim is steady,
my shot is sure
and I return to my solemn repose, a
s the old bag looks cross-eyed
at my lucky charm stuck up her nose.
There is chaos everywhere
no one knows what to do,
I still sit in solemn repose
and the old bag is still cross-eyed
looking down her nose.
There is nothing they can do
and the case is dropped, wow, wow.
The old bag goes to hospital ho, ho
my lucky charm still up her nose.
The sun comes up in the morning
and I am still free as a bird.
Free as a bird, the word.
The air smells like dog muck
something you trod in to bring you luck!
10 October 2002
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem-eyes
You’re a walking poem
and it’s like I have night vision
except instead of goggles they are
poem-eyes:
only I can see you,
your arms and legs strings of sentences
bare with candid sincerity,
your hair tangled weaknesses
curled with a simile
and eyes of endearing desire
marked with a metaphor,
poetic sentiment hanging off you
like unwashed clothes.
Your mouth breathes out symbolism,
when you walk, the line breaks jingle
and when you hug me I can feel myself
being wrapped in a charming mystery
that sounds so pretty when read aloud.
When you stop, I stop
and gather all the fallen words
in a basket I keep around my waste
marked Beauty.
A Word Is Just A Word
a word is just a word
and it may come from somewhere else
from a very far place
because a word like a bird has wings
and it has feet and it may hover
on my hair and make a nest there
like this poem
and that poem of pain and that poem of joy
and that poem that you have read and
made me the man crying in pain inside those lines
for a poem is just a poem
and it may come from somewhere else
from a very far, far place
about someone else
because a poem is like a bird with wings
with feet and with feathers and it may hover
inside my heart
and make a house there
and i am there too
emphatizing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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