Treasure Island

David Whalen

(5/18/38 / Covington Kentucky)

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

Submitted: Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (A freudian slip (who nose?) by David Whalen )

Enter the verification code :

  • Bri Edwards (12/26/2012 6:35:00 PM)

    nobody ever believes me when i say the wrong thing and try to set them straight. i hope you had better luck. the poem, though not huge, IS cute. thanks. bri guess i'll have to put it on my mypoemslist. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Wondering Moments, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  2. Shadows Leading Me, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  3. Fairness!, Clarence Prince
  4. At Her Feet, Naveed Akram
  5. Enjoying Interior Sensations, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  6. Know everything at least, gajanan mishra
  7. Lost Images, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  8. Abortion (cry of a foetus), ramesh rai
  9. Feel me, I am here, gajanan mishra
  10. Let me start afresh, gajanan mishra

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]