thy Delicate Lips
Thy delicate lips
Thy delicate lips
Ye talking eyes
Yond curly locks
These velvety hands
Cone shaped Fingers
On a Brittle wrist
Milky white feet
And prominent nose
Under lucky forehead
Are well arranged
As a rhyming scheme
In a classical sonnet
poem by Akram Saqib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
To a Prospective Cook
Curly locks, Curly Locks, wilt thou be ours?
Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet weed the flowers,
But stand in the kitchen and cook a fine meal,
And ride every night in an automobile.
Curly Locks, Curly Locks, come to us soon!
Thou needest not to rise until mid-afternoon;
Thou mayest be Croatian, Armenian, or Greek;
Thy guerdon shall be what thy askest per week.
Curly Locks, Curly Locks, give us a chance!
Thou shalt not wash windows, nor iron my pants.
Oh, come to the cosiest of seven-room bowers,
Curly Locks, Curly Locks, wilt thou be ours?
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Like Being Brown
I like being brown
Caramel with red undertones
I love my thick lips and wide nose
I can create kinky masterpieces from my locks
And yes my round hips can be seen for blocks and blocks
These things are part of my culture you see-traits, characteristics
Yet they don't define me
They don't tell you that I don't like to fly
And am sometimes afraid of the dark
You can't tell by them that on Saturdays
I take my son to the park
My intelligence cannot be seen in the color of my skin
The thickness of my lips does not tell you what kind of person I am
You may assume from my kinky locks that I am a certain 'type'
But only by knowing my heart, can your predictions be right
See whether you are red or tan, white, yellow or brown
With curly or straight hair, eyes slanted or round
Be proud to show love for your culture and your heritage
And celebrate your fellow man as he shows pride in his
poem by Tamika Stubblefield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lucky Lips
Dah dup dap dap dup dah dup dah dah
Dup dah dup dah dah dup oh_
When I was just a little baby
I didnt have many toys
But my momma used to say son, you got
More than other boys
Now you may not be good looking and you may not
Be too rich
But youll never ever be alone
cos youve got lucky lips
Lucky lips are always kissing
Lucky lips are never blue
Lucky lips will always find a pair of lips so true
I dont need a four leaf clover
Rabbits foot or good luck charm
With lucky lips youll always have a baby
In your arms
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Albatre
This lady in the white bath-robe which she calls a
peignoir,
Is, for the time being, the mistress of my friend,
And the delicate white feet of her little white dog
Are not more delicate than she is,
Nor would Gautier himself have despised their contrasts
in whiteness
As she sits in the great chair
Between the two indolent candles.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Change
Was this the face upon which,
Beautified innocence danced and danced?
How looks gazed, riveted untiringly!
The black lashes cast glimmering shadows,
In the dark deep blue glassy eyes;
As the reedy tufts along the banks,
Do while throwing wavering reflections,
In the unpolluted azure deep lake.
How frantic heart urged to explore,
Plunge into the depths, to be lost,
Never to be found, to endure the pangs.
The black curly locks eclipsed,
Enchanting more the broad fair forehead.
The words slipped from the tender lips,
As do the dews from the blooming roses,
When the breeze shakes them gently,
Like beads they dropp one by one.
And as the dancing waves do travel,
Spread smiles onto the smooth cheeks.
Ah! What a horrible change brought,
Imperceptible feet of the passing decades,
Trod trampling the stage of beauty.
The deep creasy wrinkles seem to us,
As a dull furrowed farm of Autumn.
The cloudy eyes with spots of cataracts,
Pouring out fluid full of disgust,
Teethless gums behind the withering lips,
Dribbling mouth from both the corners,
Flesh hanging down like loose sleeves,
White worn out hair as brittle juty fiber,
Present catastrophe, inevitable, bare,
Which is forsaken in the days of vigour.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song be Delicate
Let your song be delicate.
The skies declare
No war — the eyes of lovers
Wake everywhere.
Let your voice be delicate.
How faint a thing
Is Love, little Love crying
Under the Spring.
Let your song be delicate.
The flowers can hear:
Too well they know the tremble,
Of the hollow year.
Let your voice be delicate.
The bees are home:
All their day's love is sunken
Safe in the comb.
Let your song be delicate.
Sing no loud hymn:
Death is abroad . . . Oh, the black season!
The deep — the dim!
poem by John Shaw Neilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Day in the life of a Child
Cheeks dimpling
Two eyes gleam
Lips parting.
Baby's smiling.
Nose crinkling
Red mouth curls
Eyes are twinkling.
Baby's clowning.
Toes gripping
Two knees bend.
Feet are moving,
Baby's walking.
Mind wandering,
Gaze intense,
Brow is puckering,
Baby's 'pottying'
Lips smacking,
Two jaws race,
Cheeks are bulging,
Baby's eating.
Head bobbing,
Fingers twirl,
Knees are knocking,
Baby's dancing.
Eyes closing,
Two hands still.
Senses dozing,
Ssssh - Baby's sleeping.
The Kiss
She turns her head gently
From left to right
And from right to left,
Avoiding my blazing lips.
Her shiny ebon hair
Gracefully frames her charming face.
I look into her eyes
And I see in them
The blue waves of the sea,
The flight of birds very high,
The azure serenity of the sky.
I look into her eyes
And I see in them
The green tranquility of the forest
Happiness and sadness,
Her beautiful soul, suffering and love,
The pristine spirit of an ivory dove.
I look into her eyes
And I see in them
The pure white blossoms of Lily
And the sun rising over the mountain,
The bliss and joy of life, the sorrow and the pain.
She turns her head gently
From right to left
And from left to right
Until my lips meet with hers
And I kiss her enchanted, throbbing and trembling.
Time stands still, only the hour grows thin,
Her delicate fingers plough my bare skin.
poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
War at Home
Ever since they took him away,
to fight that God forsaken war.
I daydream in our fields all day.
They took the man that I adore.
Gazing across the windswept grass
and waiting for the time to pass.
The memory of times before,
they took the man that I adore.
I know he’ll walk across that field
with battle wounds yet still unhealed.
My broken heart can take no more,
they took the man that I adore.
Ever since they took him away,
they took the man that I adore.
Author Notes:
Kyrielle Sonnet
A Kyrielle Sonnet consists of 14 lines (three rhyming quatrain stanzas and a non-rhyming couplet) . Just like the traditional Kyrielle poem, the Kyrielle Sonnet also has a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza) . Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet consists of only eight syllables. French poetry forms have a tendency to link back to the beginning of the poem, so common practice is to use the first and last line of the first quatrain as the ending couplet. This would also re-enforce the refrain within the poem. Therefore, a good rhyming scheme
for a Kyrielle Sonnet would be: AabB, ccbB, ddbB, AB -or- AbaB, cbcB, dbdB, AB.
poem by Amera Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Hindu woman beauty
Translucent neck, crescent forehead,
Bow like eyebrow, doe’s eyes,
Hilly cheeks, cherry lips,
Beaky nose, milky teeth,
With back dropp of cloudy hair
Provide a countenance. It strikes.
Snake-gourd arms, tulip palm,
Snaky fingers, eggi nails,
Dicot branching breasts
Decking out like cashew apples,
Banyan leaf like belly
Provide a profile. It hooks.
Boat like beam, banana stem thighs,
Pomegranate open fruit in between,
Crane legs and the feet
As tapering as the bud of banana
Inflorescence,
Provide a receptacle. It arreats.
Then a woman has no need
To be adorned and ornamented,
To catch hold of a king.
24.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Curly Locks
_Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine,--
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream._
Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
The throb of my heart is in every line,
And the pulse of a passion as airy and glad
In its musical beat as the little Prince had!
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine!--
O I'll dapple thy hands with these kisses of mine
Till the pink of the nail of each finger shall be
As a little pet blush in full blossom for me.
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And thou shalt have fabric as fair as a dream,--
The red of my veins, and the white of my love,
And the gold of my joy for the braiding thereof.
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream
From a service of silver, with jewels agleam,--
At thy feet will I bide, at thy beck will I rise,
And twinkle my soul in the night of thine eyes!
_Curly Locks! Curly Locks! wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine.--
But sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam,
And feast upon strawberries, sugar and cream._
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bianca
Her cheeks are hot, her cheeks are white;
The white girl hardly breathes to-night,
So faint the pulses come and go,
That waken to a smouldering glow
The morbid faintness of her white.
What drowsing heats of sense, desire
Longing and languorous, the fire
Of what white ashes, subtly mesh
The fascination of her flesh
Into a breathing web of fire?
Only her eyes, only her mouth,
Live, in the agony of drouth,
Athirst for that which may not be:
The desert of virginity
Aches in the hotness of her mouth.
I take her hands into my hands,
Silently, and she understands;
I set my lips upon her lips;
Shuddering to her finger-tips
She strains my hands within her hands.
I set my lips on hers; they close
Into a false and phantom rose;
Upon her thirsting lips I rain
A flood of kisses, and in vain;
Her lips inexorably close.
Through her closed lips that cling to mine,
Her hands that hold me and entwine,
Her body that abondoned lies,
Rigid with sterile ecstasies,
A shiver knits her flesh to mine.
Life sucks into a mist remote
Her fainting lips, her throbbing throat;
Her lips that open to my lips,
And, hot against her finger-tips,
The pulses leaping in her throat.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mr Paddy's Capers.
Just when she thought
She'd found a place alone
To read her book, Mr Paddy
poked his nose between
Her and the open book, so
That pages are blanked out
By his huge head. Mr Paddy
Go off and annoy another,
She said, but he stood there
Determined to be where he
Was, between her and the
Brown covered book, held
Out in her small hands. Oh
Mr Paddy I cannot see the
Pages. Please go off and run
In the garden or in the kitchen
And steal a bone, she said. But
He wouldn't leave her alone,
He pushed his head against her
Young girl body, his damp nose
Dampening her wrist and her
White dress with blue sash, and
Dribble from his lips was wetting
The pages. Mr Paddy please let
Me be, I'm trying to read can't
You see? Mr Paddy's brown eyes
Scanned the pages, nothing there
But scribbled lines upon white paper,
And still he stood wet mouthed with
Big brown eyes and his silly old caper.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I shall not Die for thee
O woman, shapely as the swan,
On your account I shall not die:
The men you've slain -- a trivial clan --
Were less than I.
I ask me shall I die for these --
For blossom teeth and scarlet lips --
And shall that delicate swan-shape
Bring me eclipse?
Well-shaped the breasts and smooth the skin,
The cheeks are fair, the tresses free --
And yet I shall not suffer death,
God over me!
Those even brows, that hair like gold,
Those languorous tones, that virgin way,
The flowing limbs, the rounded heel
Slight men betray!
Thy spirit keen through radiant mien,
Thy shining throat and smiling eye,
Thy little palm, thy side like foam --
I cannot die!
O woman, shapely as the swan,
In a cunning house hard-reared was I:
O bosom white, O well-shaped palm,
I shall not die!
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Her Kiss
He steers hurriedly the hardened handlebar
The light dims out in a cozy red chamber
A door of dreams opens with a moan ajar
A want of breeze lays layer upon layer.
Her dress is colorful but simple and modest
Her jasper hair falls on her white shoulders
He enters her cave beneath the jade forest
An old book on the shelf silently moulders.
Her skin is velvety silk, delicate and smooth
Her eyes brightly glisten, the pearls of Atlantis
One cannot find such jewels in any booth,
Her breasts pomegranates, sweeter than raisins.
Forgive me, he says, for not kissing your mouth
And she smiles and agrees yet somewhat amiss
Then he moves to the door turning to the south
But before he leaves she kisses him on the lips.
poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Prominent Men
Through all of the highways, the byways Ive travelled
Through all of the sidestreets and alleys of sin
Through all thats been heard nothing sinks quite as low
As the prominent statements of prominent men
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
The streets that have life with the cats underbelly
Aligned with their tracks of a thousand good-byes
A poor woman screams with the heat of disaster
As the prominent men sit and strengthen their ties
Oh, the prominent girls of the prominent people
Make prominent dresses and prominent hair
Oh, their prominent wealth and their eyes blazed with shadow
The prominent horrors with the ghost millionaire
The shiny stained window now cracked at sunset
They shiny red dawn of the heart soon must fall
This simply occurred at the seat of the cauldron
Those prominent men hadnt been there at all
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
Oh, the prominent child of these prominent people
Seeks prominent schools with the finery of age
With a prominent pink of a tasteless red orchid
The prominent men casts a prominent heir
The child of the agent walks barefoot upon grass
He screams with a power that terrors green eyes
His knife harshly glistening, stabs noways and always
But those prominent men in nowhere in sight
Prominent men tell prominent stories
Prominent men tell prominent lies
Prominent men kiss the ass of dame fortune
Prominent men will tear out your eyes
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Vision in White and Blue
The eyes, the blue, the smile
The skin, the hair
Those socks, prim, upright
Spectacularly beautiful; the blue, the pink
The breath, the ripples, the heart pounding
The arm, protective, the nibbling kisses
That short sleeved shirt; white
Spectacularly beautiful; the almost transparent, the so light brown
The mouth, the saliva, the other's mouth
The exchange, the lips
The spit; dripping down
Spectacularly beautiful; the red, the pink
The white, the hand, shy, the delicate nod
The revelation, the shiver
Sleek; strokes as satin
Spectacularly beautiful; the pure white, the pink
The rhythm, the fingers, the dance
The music, the twisted lip
Faster, relentless, the smile
Spectacularly beautiful; the blue, the pink
poem by Timothy Marshal Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Biology
Lizards
are
cold-
blooded
and conditioned to move
sleek
through
your
fingers.
He opened
two
yellow
disconcerting
eyes:
lips, fists, skin, palms, elements, toes, mountain tops, lips
strings, teeth, voice, muscles, corals, a couple in a boat lost, sea surface, someone's grandmother's tattoo, a child's back, or a nose of a rabbit or a twenty-footed starfish,
eyes:
tightened.
lips, fists, skin, palms, elements, toes, mountain tops, lips
strings, teeth, voice, muscles, corals, a couple in a boat lost, sea surface, someone's grandmother's tattoo, a child's back, or a nose of a rabbit or a twenty-footed starfish,
eyes:
tightened.
Tightened
My lizard understands
Swahilli
is
warm
and tells
me
that:
if
eyelashes of
2 million people
in a small country
were
green
grass
on home
walls
they
would
see:
my lizard
understands-
is
warm.
I look
back into
my son's
eyes-
and remember
clearly
the warbling&sleek
warm
feeling
in
my
womb
and stomach
for nine
months.
And
a
glance
of
the
brittle
coarse
little
dotty,
pinky-
yellow
palm
on mine,
in the hospital bed.
poem by Afrodita Nikolova
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tantalizing
I have seen that her eyes are sharp.
Her eyes are sharp and attentive
But still I dare not encounter them.
They hold my head captive.
I have seen that her nose is stern.
Her nose is stern and aiming
But still that nose I cannot pinch.
It torments my eyes, straining.
I found that her lips are of flesh.
Her lips are fleshy and amorous
But still the very lips I cannot caress.
They render my lips nervous.
I like her face being slim and slender.
Her face is slim and passionate
But still I cannot claim that of her.
It keeps my brain desolate.
I wonder how nimble her limbs are.
Her limbs are nimble and at hand
But still to touch them I don’t dare.
They set my belly to grind.
I understand that her vibes is strong.
Her vibes is strong and resonant
But still me she chose to tantalize.
She left my soul poignant.
Total reticence from her
Might have been better
Rather than raising hope
And then belying it.
05.05.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This Day What Future Will It Bring (Kyrielle Sonnet)
This day what future will it bring.
What songs will we finally sing?
Snow quietly gracing the ground.
There will then come a silent sound.
We will be skating on the pond
And ev'ry one will form a bond.
By crackling fire we'll gather round.
There will then be a silent sound.
No recipe will we follow
Flitting the night with the swallows.
We'll form a ring around, around.
There will then come a silent sound.
This day what future will it bring.
There will then come a silent sound.
- Ben Gieske, March 5,2008
*
A Kyrielle Sonnet consists of 14 lines (three rhyming quatrain stanzas and a non-rhyming couplet) . Just like the traditional Kyrielle poem, the Kyrielle Sonnet also has a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza) . Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet consists of only eight syllables. French poetry forms have a tendency to link back to the beginning of the poem, so common practice is to use the first and last line of the first quatrain as the ending couplet. This would also re-enforce the refrain within the poem. Therefore, a good rhyming scheme for a Kyrielle Sonnet would be: AabB, ccbB, ddbB, AB -or- AbaB, cbcB, dbdB, AB.
poem by Ben Gieske
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!