Long Nose Poems
Long Nose Poems. Below are the most popular long Nose by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nose poems by poem length and keyword.
We were warned never to share “our business” with anybody
Especially the social workers, nurses or school teachers.
They were the enemy and would “take us away”.
Our terror was the idea of what strangers could do to us.
At least our mother was always sorry later.
She loved us, right? We knew not to touch her stash.
It was important to not get in her way when she was angry too.
She brought lots of new daddies home.
They were of various shapes and sizes.
Some of them brought alcohol, this made her happy.
Once in a while they would bring the stuff that went up her nose.
This made her happier, until she came crashing down.
One thing for certain, most of these daddies did not want us around.
We could get locked out for hours while they were there.
We knew to never expect anything good out of them.
One or two pretended to like us, but we knew better.
Every once in a while we would get one who would bring food.
This made us happy, but it would not last usually.
Knowing this, we hid food away, for later.
Sometimes there would be dancing and laughter.
These were the good days.
As long as we kept quiet
And kept our “business” to ourselves
things would be okay. Bruises and welts heal.
As long as we are not taken away, things will be okay.
Set the sea and anchor detail sounded over the one M C
Soon there would be some time off for us all
Hustling the lines, securing the tugs
Port and starboard divisions awaiting liberty call
Hookers and con artists on the piers
New port of call but the crowd is the same
Going into town to have a few beers
Same old gang but it's a brand new game
Don't know how it happened but he must have got mad
Probably when I was hitting on his girl
My nose and his elbow met, I was bleeding bad
I tried to smile at her but my head was in a whirl
I guess I was stupid, but just having fun
Over a period of time I'd been in a few fights
At least the bleeding had slowed down a little
I'm glad I wasn't in my dress whites
Manners are important when you're out on the town
So I thought I would add a new twist
I said excuse me sir, there's someone I would like you to meet
Let me introduce your face to my fist
Before the introduction I heard something crack
When I woke up I was on my back
My shipmate asked what I paid for the black eye
He said it sure was a beauty
The cost was steep, ten days restriction
And twenty hours extra duty
He said man you've really taken the fall
But I knew I'd be ready again, come liberty call.
Absolutely fiction.
I expected a day of sunshine,
sit outside and sip some wine;
February gave us some warm days,
we thought spring wouldn't have come for a while...
the bakery below has the scent of bread that delights,
the laundry next door smells like waving clothes on lines!
Wrathful March disappoints everyone, it's a month so insane;
the saddened kids wanted tons of fluffy snow, not rain or hail;
the snowman's nose would have had a carrot dropped by a quail,
two big blueberries for his small eyes soon to be eaten by ravens,
two small slices of red watermelon for his frozen and pinkish lips...
hooray! they'd have been ready to pull him down the steep lane!
Merry Go
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
AAAY..
It is the pluck of dawn
In full mettle moxie
Morning is examined
YAAY..
I am afresh and wake up
I am breathing again
Ready stable and able
Bouncing and determined
First eat is the porridge on the table
Aay say I beautiful day
Yay sunrise has been created
Morning Santos
My soccer mad hound
Chase your ball or
Fetch a bone all day
Morning Sirbastian
Mine attitude cat
So fat and stubborn
He has 14 lives and
Best survival skills
Morning Cracker
Our patriot parrot and
All feather faithful friend
Greatest home patriot.
Rev up your symphony and sing
I am ready and fresh
Feeling chichi also razor sharp
On the way to the door
Spot the handle
Can't wait to grab it open
To see the crispy sea city
It is yellow and gold not filthy
A lusty lively fresh braggy breeze
Is felt in the nose
No hold me back
Pajamas and all
Ready for my playmate Earth
Let's play.
One beautiful day, I was on my merry way
And I was almost late to work
That’s when I saw a bum and he was eating crumbs
And I didn’t want to be a jerk
So, I said to him “Sir, I don’t want to bother but can
You tell me please”
I didn’t want to go near him for fear that he had
A disease
He had holes in his clothes and matted cornrows
And they were salt and pepper
He had snot in his nose and I supposed
That he was a leper
His eyes were yellow
His teeth were brown
He smoked a cigarillo and
He drank a fifth of Crown
“Sir, can you tell me a little
About your pain
I’ll play my fiddle when you sleep
In the rain
Where do you go when the insects swarm?
And when it’s cold
Who keeps you warm?
And when you’re hungry
Do you eat out of the trash?
And who gives you ointment
When you get a rash?
If you have no money
Then you have no power
You offend society
Because you can’t take a shower
Please, Mr. Wendell
Why are you so strange?
Are you insane, mentally ill, or
Completely deranged?”
He asked, “My child can you spare some change?”
“I’ve been on the streets for awhile
And I have no name
I sit here waiting and waiting for mankind’s humanity
Giving people ample chances to avoid
Their own calamity
I came to you broken
And you still pass me by
You think you’re so much better than me
You don’t care if I die
I test you everyday
By begging you for a penny
You say that I use drugs and then
You buy my sandwich from Denny’s
Your compassion is missing
In the Bermuda Triangle
The whole time you’re dissing
One of God’s brightest angels
I test you to bless you
So your cup will run over
But you laugh and spit at me
And turn the world even colder
So, the next time you see a bum
You should be so wise
To give him a dollar
And let him entertain you
Because he’s an angel in disguise”
Bridgett Faerie leapt from the flames with a pop and a fizzle
Delighting her elemental dad, Hellfire, wielder of the flame
Her mother gave her the power to make leaves dance
Her purpose not apparent yet, but she was magnificent.
Hair in shades of copper we did not know had been invented.
She stood on the tallest log and stared us down, Then she flew.
New faeries can hardly ever fly. We gasped.
"Forty-one years since I saw a first day flyer,"
one of the elderly brownies whispered.
Bridgett landed next to her.
"Hi!" she said. The whole council laughed.
"She is precocious," one of the faeries said.
Bridgett turned.
I saw her face for the first time;
oval with laughing caramel eyes.
Her nose was a tiny ski slope, a tiny lift at the end. She wrinkled it.
"Where are the leaves?" she demanded. "I want to get started."
Even Hellfire was astounded; he had six daughters but not this one
Until today. She would be a force to be honored and revered.
Her snotty sisters began to make fun of her,
pretending non-jealousy.
Hellfire gave them a look and there was instant silence.
"Are those my SISTERS?" Bridgett shrieked with delight.
She flew over and hugged every one of them. Then she flew away.
How could someone with such tiny feet be so assertive?
No fairy had ever started working on their birthday before today.
Oak tree leaves began floating down into the fire.
The fire popped and crackled faster and faster.
"I love this job!" Bridgett yelled from a branch forty feet up.
Hellfire looked frightened for the first time.
He had never had a daughter who was more like his wife.
His wife flew past him to help her daughter.
That rarely happens on birthing day either.
"A mini-me-of-Enthusiasm Faerie!" someone said.
Others cheered. Someone clapped Hellfire on the back.
"Now there are two of them, he said."Good luck!"
Bridgett's twin sister Brewit popped out of the flames next.
"Surprise!" She yelled. "There are two of us Daddy!"
Hellfire's mouth dropped open. He had felt outnumbered before.
But never suffered anything like this. Brewit gave him a big hug.
Then she flew up with to join her mother and her sister.
A wonderful day in the woods, one we have never forgotten
Although that was twenty-seven years ago.
The story has been told thousands of times.
And put into the imaginations of many. Their purpose: Joy.
His clothes were tattered, in vivid shades of red blue & yellow
he wore leatherette shoes blackly polished and gleaming with shine
Red fiery hair that summoned like a fire hydrant and a big fat rubber nose that honked when it was squeezed.
He had a polka dotted hanky that protruded from his well padded suit,
and a kangaroo pocket in which he kept all his most precious belongings.
Aside from the fact that those big blue eyes of his were undeniably sad,
every part of his retinue screamed, "I am funny, I can make you laugh"
People came to the circus to watch his goofy antics and
to forget their worries for a little while. One day while he was blowing up balloons for the children, he died of a massive heart attack.
In heaven the angels took Tatters to the children's room. Sitting on a big shiny
red stool he was asked to make balloons for every child in God's creative nest.
His eyes were never sad again for he knew that here,
he could make a child smile and never grow old, or ever be sad again.
The End.
When your ride’n drag through the swelterin’ heat,
and you've bout had all the dust one-man can eat.
When the sweat’s running down from collar to boot,
just forty miles gone on a hundred-mile route.
The ass end of cattle is all you can see,
and the smell is so strong it makes your nose bleed.
When the flies are biting deep into your skin,
well now that's when the doubtin’ really begins.
You start to look back o'er the passing of years,
remembering the good times, laughter and tears.
You think about old friends, love, death and sorrow,
glory of the past and unknown tomorrow.
Oh, there’ve been choices I wish I'd never made,
some bar room fights where I should've walked away.
Times when I have left though I knew I should stay,
too busy drinking when I needed to pray.
It's been mostly all work and not much playing,
a whole lot of leaving and not much staying.
But if I had it to do over again,
I'm pretty sure I wouldn’t change a darn thing.
I sniff at my hands and oh!
Such scent, such ecstasy,
a memory presented to my nose.
But where do we find this block of adorable redness?
It was sold in every shop: lovable carbolic soap,
an aromatic compound, so ruddy, so redolent.
But this is now so rare; it merely
presents itself to my pleading mind -
a psyche that puts forth its arms,
a plea to a storehouse of valuable memory,
a whiff of an echo, an echo of an odour,
an odour that's been sent.
So who remembers, recalls a soap that's not
so round, bright pink, cream, blue or white,
that isn't sold in pretty-pretty paper?
We do so wish to sniff, sniff, sniff at an odour that's so old.
(3 Oct 2023)
Our physical world that we travel upon,
Showers our senses with volumes to understand.
Yet there's a wide range of comprehension,
That often tests realities hand.
For example, our tactile sense, that we
Fumble and grope with, through skin, thick & thin.
Just as we may touch a flame that burns,
Or find the comfort of a warm wind.
We often listen to the sounds of nature,
Providing a calm and peaceful respite.
Whereas others, may hear only danger,
That they would avoid and indict.
Since much of our perception would be visual,
This sight creates the biggest discrepancy.
While often flooding the mind with images,
Causing confusion, and even an emergency!
Now when a scent or odor becomes apparent,
The olfactory moves to a powerful offense.
As some seem to have a nose for trouble,
Others, can smell the roses with no expense.
Here, a common end may be seen as taste,
From the food and drink we all consume.
Where the tongue is specially suited, to
Allow for the salty, bitter, & sweet to loom.
So with all this magnificent variation,
Its no wonder that our perceptions are askew.
Fortunately, the majorities usually find some
Agreement, and what's perceived has a common clue.