Long Noses Poems
Long Noses Poems. Below are the most popular long Noses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Noses poems by poem length and keyword.
We use five senses every day
As we work and as we play
They are useful and handy
I will list them so you see
We could never live without
What these senses are all about
Eyes can do so many things
With the looks that they can bring
Joy, passion and sensual
They can stare with sexual
Ideas that glimmer, glow and shine
Whenever your eyes meet mine
Fingers are for feeling
And they always get me reeling
Every time they brush by me
I feel alive and free
Knowing they are there to hold
Whenever my world turns cold
Noses are used for making
Smells seem so intoxicating
Like the lingering sweet scent
Every time that you invent
Mixture of candles and perfume
Filling a romantic room
Mouths and lips are used for tasting
Each day I am never wasting
Chances of a yummy kiss
Or flavors that I cant resist
Of chocolates I am gently fed
On a soft and loving bed
Ears are used for whispering
Every time I'm listening
To a voice I want to hear
I love you's so loud and clear
In a tone we understand
I'm your woman--- Your my man
There is nothing left to do
But use our senses all day through
They are like a hidden gem
Of unexpected feelings
W I N T E R
B R E A K S
N A T U R E
A W A K E S
G A R D E N
A S L E E P
&
an oldie reposted
Fields flooded into skating rinks
into which each footstep sinks,
cracking under body weight so
not the best place to skate.
Thawing February of twitching noses
in tussocks of woken primroses.
Rummaging on hazel boles,hibernating mammals
poke from the holes.
Leafless hedgerows , buds now form
a carpet of white corm,
Badgers forage food near their sett
renewing the bracken scented couchette.
Nature pair off in twos
lengthening days come into view.
aconite open in rays of sun
below, yellow catkins tails fine spun.
Osier shoots in green corn camomile
early Spring mornings begin to smile.
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007
Writing in her, warn and atristic, cozy den.
Coffee, Muse, thesaurus and her always flowing pen.
Outside, rowdy protestors chanted for equality!
Burning down businesses ..after all, it was for free!
She wrote of sparkling galaxies and outstanding stars.
But not the policemen killed in front of bars?
As the sun did set, Cinderella wrote of aromatic roses.
But not once, never, of the innocents with broken noses.
Our Cinderella wore earplugs to quell sounds of first responders.
After all, who wants to know of liberty's loss, she pathetically ponders!
3/5/2021
~1~
Fragile Steps
Fragile feet broken-in, glass slippers
waltzing through the ballroom.
The sweep of a cerulean gown,
charming, with angel wings.
~
Broken inside, fatherless, feathers
fall around her - weeping. Bullies - dressed
like sisters, tango around her tresses.
Pulling...teasing, stepmother leading.
Ribbons unwound.
~
Her pulse exulting, as the prince
whirls her around the room.
Jealous fans, fluttering, like eyelashes,
in time to the music, unmoved.
~
Scheming scorn of familial-pretense.
Sorrowful chores meant to torture
and keep her fragile heart inside,
as they depart for the Prince’s ball.
~
Her reflection, rare in beauty
shines in precious glass
of chandelier, as if
she, was its magnificent light source.
~
Sitting amidst the cinders,
cold wind rinses the ashes
from her countenance.
A grand dame stands before her.
Salutation of wand.
~
Dizzy and drawn
out into the lovely gardens,
the Prince kisses her tender lips.
Impression of charm and lost slipper
as midnight comes and goes.
~
She steps breathless
into a pumpkin-colored carriage.
The grand dame kisses her cheek,
“You shall see him again”
~
Furious and frenetic,
the “Steps” return,
mocking the humble jewel
who scrubs their smudges from the floor.
~
Shrieking glass falls
as the stepmother’s fortune crashes.
For the Prince comes bearing tidings -
holding a serendipitous glass slipper.
One sister’s feet too long.
The other sister’s feet too fat.
But Ella’s feet, slide in like butter,
and the engagement ring
upon her fragile fingers,
ensure no one will bully her anymore.
~
The kingdom’s token subjects
in that small room,
bow their noses to the ground.
Fragile minds
forfeit
their happily ever after.
10/16/2017
Contest: Fragile
Strands of ribbons ride the sky with suns arrival
Children watch for birds and listen for the bands
To their delight music raises up horizons on the curve
Lifted like a curtain at the circus
Curved at the ends where land meets sky
Higher than high the kaleidoscopic eye burns on
Yellow bright to helicopter heaven straight ahead
Where fireworks explode for fun and nothing
Jump at the opportunity to work for free
Licorice sticky kids eat everything in sight
Lamp posts made of chocolate come in handy
When marching bands go tootsie rolling by
They come alive with signs that never stop
Remaining stationary in their concrete red and white
Drummers borrow beats born on tomorrows slapped behind
Rhythms come from behind because bands don't travel backwards
Red rubber noses adorn clown faces
Crossed feet go stumbling over curbs
In over-sized shoes eager to please the masses
Men in clumsy gloves juggle empty air
As if someone or something were there
Missing persons of interest who disappear
Tumbling invisible in the wind gone after air
Strings hold more than helium up there
Sky balloons fly by in multicolored skins
Elastic in flight, gentle to the touch of pins
Pretty in simplicity, shining in blinding incognito
But parades do not begin without a purpose
Parades come sooner than the circus if not first
When they come they must arrive in cannons
In royal colors, living colors would be nice
And shot to make sure everyone wakes up
As children scream, demanding everything
Holding their breath until they or sky turn blue
Because only balloons can turn to purple
Which is a curse but better than becoming turtle
Turtles can not float on unknown surfaces
Or high in atmospheres from what we can surmise
And if you get the drift on flight mechanics
A compromise to fly would be ridiculous
Diuretics and laxatives have been purging dysmorphic creatures
As they stage their grim delusion for glamour with anorexic features
They call it passion for fashion and yet walk in emperor’s clothes
Nearly naked and some in lines adorned from cocaine shred noses
Present fake breasts bum implants shrivelled Egos and botoxed faces
Like stick insect role models they struggle to portray any humanoid traces
The melt from the spotlight yet the crowd revels in mere bones and skin
A designer declares that ‘with those costumes you’ll look just as thin’
And so audiences worldwide dream of false beauty and are committed
To believe that without external appearances love won’t be requited
They purchase like sheep to the slaughter and starve for undying looks
And fail to notice the mercurial charade of the industry’s criminal crooks
05th November 2019
Our dad drives with the recliner down like a waterbed as uncapped bottles of water gushes down. My older sister putting on her third face now, none of it hides her stuck-out tongue at me. My older brother still thinks I'm invisible. Not mom, she only sees me, "Did you break this, or, did you spill this?"
It's one of those 'Blackouts', it seem to be a bit more as I get older. I am getting up a bit bolder, they say that it is a good thing munchkin getting a agronot badge so I can put on my spacesuit. Soon I'll be able to shoot for one of those starry twinkly pads way up there twinkling away.
They'll be getting me ready for those receiving pads up there, but here on Earth we just have the launching pads just around the bend. Still blackout, and pretty much Indian country here they think this whole place is scared land. It's not scared land, it's sacred land. Well it's scary now with it been blackout all this way.
We can see the tall behemoths standing in the shadows pointy noses all seeing circularity's silhouettes destination bound for that moon, or Kalamazoo. Tough being four, Kalamazoo? Yeah, that's Indian for where all the injured animals crawl to die when the Indians go during the hunt.
GOOD, I will take the spirits of the animals with me, like troopers, and I will take them to the happy hunting grounds in the sky.
BLANKET OF FLUFF
a halo of snowflakes
******
encircles my * crown *
*********
alights on brisk hair
f l u t t e r s on lashes
dusts my wool coat
playfully *hangs*
on my winter * scarf *
numb fingers inside homemade gloves
gather around the warmth of the palm
flake friends
compress my boots
*****
*****
*****
leaving prints
and crunch -
as i walk
in pure white -
newness of life
a camouflaged bunny
appears so opal bright.
is he a shovelful of snow,
or born of a cookie cutter’s press?
an artist spreads s n o w f l a k e s
with his bunny tail brush
only irises and pupils,
pink noses and cheeks,
p e e k out from the artist’s blanket of fluff.
Kim Rodrigues © 2016
The foxglove Summer has tripped away
I am farmed out far from home
Alone, with strange tongues
Winter slips quietly into
The far corner of my comfort
While the Mouse size room sleeps
Night has stolen days short hours
Pulling at the rare white light
It tip toes past in a dust stream
Cold glass holed, and damp cardboard
Subdue the pin-pointed reflections of me
And darkness has side stepped itself
Slowly daylight drips itself into
Watery, blurred, sleep filled eyes and
A jig-sawed dawn arrives in pieces
Blue chilled noses appear from itchy blankets
From Winter pressing heavy down
Frosted Jack the Cat slips on grey slate
Frozen breath particles float upward
The shy Sun, mixes stiff scary shadows
Cold toes string like pegs too the floor
Ah, smell hot tea, drifting in a saucer
It snakes up bendy in the stairwell
Its heady scent sweet too the senses
Yawning and hot, a pot black Stove
The thin day slides in under the front door
A letter arrives, accompanied by voices carrying tears.
I pull your mouth open with my fingers.
all the way down to your chin.
Then gently pull your head in.
my lips lock with yours I feel your pulse.
It flows through your tongue.
As our noses gently touch.
And my hand pulls down your long hair.
As I loving lick your neck.
You pant and breathe deep.
As your heart beats faster and hard.
It pounds me through your breast.
Sends shivers down my chest.
The hairs stand up on my back.
As you kiss me longingly and strong.
I would never see this as ever being wrong.
Like conjoined twins we wont back away.
Our hands now explore each over.
Everywhere in every gentle way.
I lick your ear lobes and like how you say.
You love my soft touch all over your skin.
The way I arouse the volcano within.
Your passion is mounting. You hold me tight.
Looking into my eyes you tell me not to fight.
You lean back as my tongue makes you more wet.
It enters the crevice between your breasts.
You laugh because it tickles and makes you shudder.
This is the most fun you can have with your clothes on.
I always love our romanticize in the summer sun.
Just two people in the crowd kissing and not a care.
We look at each other but we don’t dare.
People watch us we feel their stare.
Again I run my fingers through your silky hair
I am so glad I have you all day. No errands to run.
But later at home we can be more fun..