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Beautiful Woman Poems | Beautiful Poems About Woman

These Beautiful Woman poems are examples of Beautiful poems about Woman. These are the best examples of Beautiful Woman poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |


Dead Winter Stray~ By: Poet Destroyer

Nearby paces, Combatants lost under the cemetery walls,
“Blessed Men and Heavenly Remedy Women of Ages,”
Feelings of dance at the beginning of nightfall,
Scenery of fire, sadness passing this history page,
In that distant curve, somewhere nears the sundown stream.
Far away from the vision of mortal eyes,
A child plays as beautiful and pale like the sunrise.
She plays on the coast this beautiful but pale, sun raised child.
Pursuing nature, in a hushed angelic lucidity,
“In hushed angelic lucidity!”
Fragile fastened, to those adequate bones.
Profound deepness beneath the snow winder dust,
Below the memoirs of her floating vessel,
Reminisces of water drowning down rivers and streams,
A shattered female kneels in salvation.
An anvil so heavy it troubles the mind.
Lost in profoundness, in what might have been.
What was, for a moment in this period?
The grimness of her weak vessel dwells.
A lifeless winter strays around. 
An album so old and dusty,
A christening gown not ever embraced.
Infinite, the woman and pale child of sunrise,
Soften footfalls beating out the torments.
Countless nights seeing the day of unspoken headstones,
Feelings of dance will never rest this heartache.
Eternity, in a dance of unconditional need,
Their hearts unite as one...
A closing of mother and child…     
~BY: PD~

Dead Winter~ By: Catie Lindsey 

There walks Warriors in that graveyard,
Holy Men and Medicine Women of ages;
at night you can see their Spirits dance,
setting fire to history's pages.
In that far corner, up by the stream,
far from the eyes of publicity,
she plays on the shore, beautiful Raylene,
catching poly-wogs, in silent lucidity.
In silent lucidity.
Brittle now, those fine bones,
deep beneath the snow drifts of winter,
beneath the memories of her body afloat
down rivers and streams of Remember.
A broken woman kneels in prayer,
a heavy weight on a burdened mind,
somewhere deep in what could have been,
what was, for a moment in time.
The grayness of her frail body lingers,
in a dead winter of the unborn,
on page forty-nine in the family album,
in a baptismal gown never worn.
Together they dance,the woman and the child,
their soft footfalls pounding out the sorrows
of many days at a worn out headstone,
many dances to come, many tomorrows.
Together they dance, The Woman's Dance,
their hearts as one...
the woman and the child.
~By: Catie Lindsey~

(for Catie's: Re-write contest..) 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Rhyme | |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | ekphrasis | |

A Beautiful Woman


Her face was a constellation of perfections 
She was ravishing; beautiful beyond condemnation. 
Her voice was like many water 
Yet, it's coo whenever she sputtered. 

Her gait was just so alluring 
No wonder men couldn't help but kept gazing. 
She trod on her pathway like a goddess -
This woman I saw was priceless. 

Even her dance step sent signals to heavenly bodies 
The immortals were mesmerized - she was more than a novice. 
The flexibility of her body was as a swift wind
It moved so fast, it could not be filmed. 

When she sang, it was like that of an angel 
Kingdoms let loosed: heaven, earth and hell 
In her eyes, you'd see paradise 
In her world, great men and women did arise 

There was ample concinnity in her kingdom 
Everything was cloudless, no entrenchment of freedom 
She also spoke with authority and with great audacity 
Owning to her greatness, she created a brawny fraternity 

Loosed men and women longed to have her by their side
'Sorry, I'm not your type' she did chide 
They tried to restrain, but they were so much in love 
Her being angry at them only waxed their hearts together in her glove 

Men of great status came to have her
They were with their luxuries - they came from afar 
The splendour of her beauty got them sprawling to the floor 
The radiance of her look made their visions blur

In her, greatness was defined 
There are so many traits of hers which can't be outlined 
She kept her statute; she was a woman of virtue
Her works were known, they reached their plateau 

Of a truth, this woman is a goddess 
And this makes me remember the game of chess
At the end, the king and queen are brought to rear
So also is this woman I saw. Her name is Nigeria.

Copyright © Jimmy Godwin

Details | Blank verse | |

A Presence in the Forest

Somewhere in an old-growth forest,
a woman smoothly moves amidst
shadows of the pines and hardwoods.
Her mossy gown is verdant green,
her hair twinkles with mica and
her soul, deep as a midnight sky,
with remote star clusters beaming.
She tends the ruins of an ancient inn
and a bed of ferns and roses.
Many a nomad, passing through,
is revived by her grace and goodness.
Though we can't lay hands on her,
she wanders free within our grasp,
For the ancient inn beguiles us still
in the labyrinths of our minds.

Copyright © Carol Mays

Details | Bio | |

Beautiful woman

There are very few women in the world
who have been truly beautiful.  Very few.
When you look for that beautiful woman
you must look deeper then her physical 
beauty.  You must look past her many physical
attributes, past the shape of her body 
the curve of her hip and the way that she
responds to pleasure.  Past even her attentiveness
to your needs, her response to your advances.

You must look deeper inside.  

When you look at her mind, you must see the beauty of 
her intellect, the power of her mental essence,
the love that she radiates, and that special
person that she is.  

But, even that is not deep enough.

You must look to her personality, that which has
been forged through the fires of life, the 
rigors of hardships, and the pain of physical
challenges.  That personality which reflects 
in her eyes, and will glow with its shining life.
It will be like a star, that in the evening filament
twinkles and the humor of her personality will 
flicker into your awareness with joyous abandon.

But, even that is not deep enough.  

You must pass even her personality to reach into 
her heart.  Her heart must beat with a passion, 
she must pulse with love.  Her blood must flow 
carrying to her fingertips the messages 
of her love.  Written in tender touches for you alone.

Even that is not deep enough to discover the truly
beautiful person.  

To be truly beautiful, to really surpass all others, 
you must glance into her soul.  Surrounded by her aura, 
cradled in her essence, this is the place of true beauty.  
Its reflection sharper then the calmest waters of a fountain.  
A soul of true spirituality.  Its here that beauty is truly
found.  Forever tranquil, in the endless memories that
each time you meet her impress themselves into your heart.

Copyright © Gabriel Sundman

Details | Lyric | |

A poem for YOU

In this world of Uncertainties I’m the man that you can trust And in my words of sincerity That my love would never last. And if you could only feel, what i feel for you You can ask me “why?” so you can see the truth Like our love that tightens the rope, Like a light that would give us hope. As you watch the dark skies Let me grab the moon for you, And as I catch the bright stars That’s the way you can see me through As this planet turns as it always will And things go wrong and you don’t know what to feel Hold my hand for it will make us strong Like a wind, we will carry on The wind blow that sings a hymn for you For they know what does love means for the two Love is blind, and not deaf So how’s success if you’re not ready to bet? In this poem with full of rhymes, A full of love, Babe can you be mine? I don’t expect too much from you Why should I? If you complete my whole. “Till death do us part” that’s what they have said But why do struggles crash them ahead? Don’t ask me when my love will last, To count all of our quarrels, is that a must? Now and Forever is all that I promise No day dreaming and without reminiscence As the matter of time, as the time passes by Together we stand, together you and I
A poem for my Girlfriend for our anniversary :) pls comment and rate... you are free to judge and criticize my work :) God Bless

Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana

Details | Blank verse | |



Beauty abides, and as her lover, 
I lift her veil to see transparent eyes glimmering
with an enticement worthy of seduction.

Touching some primordial passion, 
she wreaks havoc on my senses.
And graces me with unspoken words 
that promise delightful pleasure.

Beauty reigns as Queen supreme. 
Upon her throne she emanates majesty
with an exquisite demeanor and 
I stand back intimidated and shy. 
Who can reframe this emotion? 
Not a poet or artists brush.

Her soft rolling hills and gentle valleys; 
expectations of undiscovered treasures
fire an imaginative pose
I am bound up in a mystic rush 
that dominates like a drug's addiction.

And in a exotic haze I lie dreaming 
of ephemeral caresses,
highly charged currents 
that flow unrestricted around 
her coveted reactive spaces. 

Alone, with thoughts in time displaced, 
I wonder, does she entrance all others? 
Or in my silent muse am I the only one 
transformed and felled by her abstract beauty?

Her allure is enduring, enshrined for all to see. 
The recherche picture of her memory 
never grows old and she still remains 
indelibly imprinted on my erotic mind. 
10-12-2012   Revised 9-25-2013 

A question for you...

1.) Is the poem about a woman?
2.) or is it about a beautiful mountainous valley?

Copyright © Allan Koven

Details | I do not know? | |

I've Scribbled This Song For You

I've Scribbled This Song For You...

I'm wasting my days,
my empty nights too,

I should have held on,
but I simply lost you,

now I stagger along,

wearing broken smiles,
in between hell and you,
there's a million miles,

yes, I should have kept,
you close to my skin,

soaking your warmth,
but you were laughing,

at my foolish grin...

now I'm all broken,
and torn apart,

but what the hell,
I was always late,
for the tolling of the bell,

and now...

now I stagger along,

wearing broken smiles,
in between hell and you,
there's a million miles,

so kiss me now like you once did,
I'm tired of being so carefully hid,

la laa laa la laa laa laa...

(repeat to fade)


Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | Romanticism | |

Pursue Love

Pursue love,
the love that has no meaning,
the silver ports of the moon,
shine so bright,
that it blinds you in the twilight
she is beautiful and she is divine
she is the song sang by the sweet nightingales
in the gardens of worthy, overgrowning and blooming roses,
like wildfire grow tall and the thornes of the vines
tangle around her feet and drag her ever so slightly
throughout the garden of beauty.
As the roses lay along a table,
as she sits at the table
and she waits for me, the wordman
to come to the dinner table at the stroke of nine
and sit with her,
start a scene or two of romantic setting,
to pursue love in her name.
Love is around us,
the candlelight shines and reflects in her silk hair,
as her evening dress glitters and shines
and her bossom shows itself in the nightsky
as we lay together,
we pursue a dream together,
forever we live together forever,
as we stand upon the belcony of Romeo and Juliet's love scene
we swim in a pool of sweet divine care and love,
we swallow grapes and drink wine
hand and hand on Persian rugs and virgin white cloth sheets,
we dance to a simple, yet sweet Chopin's masterpiece
of his beautiful nocturnes,
which make such a sweet and romantic song in our heads.

We stomp out the flames
as we dance the night away,
and you lay in my arms,
and I kiss you upon your lovely head,
and you hold my hand,
and I hold you tight
never thinking of letting your love go away from me,
I would take my own life,
before I lose your love.
See us together,
it is a painting that lasts lifetimes,
that needs no touch-ups.
I care for you and love you!
Love me, I know you will.

My sweet and loving portrait lady,
who in reality is more beautiful than a fully bloomed rose
that sits on its green stem,
in the garden of beauty that sits outside my window.
Come up to my chambers
as I picked roses for you and pettles litter the atmosphere
as love's tension grows
and suspence brings us together,
let us make love tonight
seal the passion
and pursue love once and for all.

Then shall we wake with the first rays of the blazing of the morning sun,
I shall wake next to your beauty and glory,
and I shall point my attention to the heavens
and thank the Gods for sending you on the open road,
toward my chamber door, I call my heart.
Then we shall dress, and walk the pathways
in the garden of beauty
and I shall pick a bauquet of roses
and we shall sit by the lake and pursue our love
for one another
and nothing, not one earthquake shall shake us apart.


Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | I do not know? | |

Beautiful Woman

I am a voice,generations later
Who will shed the image sown
You will not paint my picture
I will not be taken down
I won't play your fiction stories
I am not what you percieve
Do not give the world a handbook
Do not tell them what to see

Staring me down,seeking errors 
Not your barbie,not your show
I'm woman in every sense of the word
Human being and you will know
You force our men to fear us
And leave us without love
And encourage women to hate us
Making them feel they are not enough

You tell us lies,and some believe
And so they walk in irking shame
You're insecure and childish
And so you have created a game
I'm strong and bold and fierce
I scare you,I don't fold like paper
So step aside and watch me be
Say I'm least,I'll prove I'm greater
Don't use a face to judge a heart
We're made the same of flesh and blood
The most obsurd of streotypes
A thing that tears this world apart
I do not wish to cause offense
This is not a war,it is a plea
I tire and sore of self defense 
I just want a shot at being me

5 April 2013
Wendia Rowe

Copyright © Wendia Rowe

Details | Romanticism | |

The Blue Poet

I am the Blue Poet.
The uneasy man.
Who longs to be loved,
or just to have a friend.

My heart whisphers a low melody
on a faint, cool evening
thinking of her.
Once in my arms,
laying on my bed of roses.
Now she is gone.
I cannot think anymore!
It is hard, to love again,
When all your love has been taken away.
... I am the Blue Poet.

I am the Blue Poet,
That walks the bluish, dawn and dew covered streets
in the the October evenings and nights.
But I tell you, I wasn't always so blue.
No! I was once alive... happy... romantic,
... till Love went away!

Now I sit in the wayward poetry clubs,
drinking club soda and snapping my fingures
to a finished performance on a poem about love.
Written by a soft, spoken seventeen year old girl.

Soon, it is my turn to give my poem a read.
I stand on a lone stage, with a spotlight drownding me in blindness.
I face the faces, who look at me and smile.
A clap, and a cough, bring my head up.
I look out upon the sitting crowd.
To see that one face
that speaks to me,
without the movement of the mouth.
The face never showed though, and my head fell back down.

I start to read.
A vase of emotions kill me and swallow me up.
I try to hold back tears, but no more could I halter.
I finished, with a salty tear, rolling down my rough and oiled cheek.
I leave the crowd at ovation
and leave the women, all with tears in their eyes.

I come down from the stage, leaving the bright spotlight.
I shake hands, give hugs,
and collect my pay, and have another round of club soda.
Then, I go down the midnight alleyways of sprinkled city streets
finding myself a cozy room.

I think of her for a moment,
then off to sleep.
I dream of one time laughs, and hugs and kisses.
I cry in my sleep,
...For I am the Blue Poet.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | Free verse | |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail

Copyright © Jay Loveless

Details | Rhyme | |

Beautiful Woman

" Beautiful Woman "

A precious beautiful woman
so sweet and truly fair
her pretty face surrounded
by her soft flowing pretty hair.

Her eyes aglow with warmness
like a brilliant shooting star
she is the most beautiful woman
her looks are captured from afar.

She has a beautiful heartfelt smile
that can light up each day of life
erasing all your stressful fears
and removing all your strife.

So many say she's beautiful
but sometimes she thinks not
she is a living angel here on earth
graceful beauty is what she's got.

A precious beautiful woman
so sweet and truly fair
her smile is filled with warmness
and for her I really care...

Penned By MPK

Quote: Life Is Poetry In Motion, Great Poets Reflect Emotion...

Note: This Poem was composed and inspired by A Beautiful Woman with a warm glow which 
radiates from the inside out. I Give and Dedicate this poem to You Aleera...

Copyright © Mickey Pig Knuckles

Details | I do not know? | |

Wrestling Verses

Wrestling Verses

Spilling ink onto paper,
reading tea-leaves,

fragments of mirth,
shards of anguish,

trapped in rolled-up sleeves.

Turning up my collar,
as blue as these days that slip by,

scattered verses plunge into,
the fathoms of unknown waters.

My ink runs, slips, treading lightly,
penning odes to love on bare skin,

your skin,
your bare back my canvas,

my fingers tracing, caressing, scribbling,
homages to our laughter, our tears.

Wrestling verses,

lie spent, exhausted,
famished and parched from saying too much,


my fingers tickle your soft skin,

my ink would run dry,

were it not for your gentle touch

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | Senryu | |


full bodied women
tantalize senses like wine
delightful to taste

cushions of comfort
everywhere soft to the touch
more luxuriance 

curvaceous can charm
sexy is as sexy does:
get size wise, people!

Eileen Manassian

This is a repost of a deleted poem. I am not justifying being unhealthy, that goes for the ultra thin and the ultra fat. I'm promoting acceptance. Perceptions of beauty change over time....I'm glad fuller women are getting more press coverage these days....women like Tess Holliday. I follow her on Instagram and am shocked by the amount of hurtful comments she gets. Let the woman be....

Copyright © Eileen Manassian

Details | Lyric | |


Sitting in this empty room
Looking at broken pictures of me and you
A broken life together
I always thought we’d make it forever

What has become of me?
I never ever thought I would be
One of those who were beaten down
One of those who didn’t make a sound

Silent when you pushed me around
Silent when you covered my mouth
Silent when you raised your hand
Silent when you gave your commands

But something deep within my soul
Tells me to rise up and take control
Take a hold of my lost self again
Knowing if I don’t this might be the very end

You will not break me down this way
You will not darken my coming days
I am stronger now you see
And I will never let you kill the beautiful soul inside me

I am someone who has a voice
I am a woman who can make my own choice
I don’t need permission to be free
Or to discover the real woman inside me

Discovering the strength and power within
To let the bright shining sun shine in
To let my heart feel free and bold
To let my soul escape your choking hold

I’ve come to realize just a few things
That my life is worth more than two gold rings
Sometimes it has to be that way
For me to take ME back and then for me to say…

I am a beautiful woman inside
I will never ever run away and hide
I will rise to the very top
I won’t quit and I won’t stop

There is nothing that I can’t do
There is nothing left for me and you
So now I surrender and just let go
I am special this I know…..

Copyright © Jod!e Quintero

Details | Verse | |

A Woman is Never Just a Woman

A Woman is Never Just a Woman
A woman is never just a woman because she’s Aphrodite’s daughter who can beguile and captivate you. She’s an angel who can love you eternally or a demon that can drive a stake through your cheating heart. So don’t ever take her love for granted because you’ll surely discover a woman is never just a woman.
(Form – Enjambment posted as Verse – 8 lines with 7 words in each line. The 1st line and the 8th line are the same)

Copyright © Pandita Sanchez

Details | Quatrain | |

My Scarlet Woman

Amongst the oaks and the maples and shrubbery so green
Runs a translucent flow, a stream so pristine
It's meandering contours hugging the land
Takes me back to the day, we met unplanned

The sky was pale blue on this hot summers day
Cotton wool clouds in mesmerising display
It's as if you could reach out and brush with your hand
This candy floss coating ceiling our land

Many meadows I walked through capturing the sounds
Listening to her marvels in cinema surround
Technicolour rainbows so radiant to the eye
Such beauty in nature, understandably why

I reach the turn-style that leads to the forest walk
Listening to the breeze through the trees as if they talk
These pillars of stature, as old as grandfathers years
Many stories they could tell, that would bring you to many tears

As I stroll through the leafy lanes, mapped out over many years
Trampled underfoot by it's inhabitants, badgers and beautiful red deer
I now reach the stream as I follow it's meandering flow
To a pool at it's end where past maidens bathed in glow

My ears now pick up sounds of singing and a splashing
Resonating from the pool, a glimpse of pink now flashing
A lady stands before me, bathing in the stream
Scarlet clothing in sporadic lay, am I in some kind of dream

I call out to this beauty as she turns and looks at me
Towards the bank she walks, and invites me in with she
Knee deep in crystal waters our bodies close in touch
My clothing now drifts away, the two of us in clutch

Into our eyes we both now look as blood flows through my veins
Her touch is soft and gentle, my hands now stroke her mane
Deeper we edge out as she floats and hugs my waist
The two of us in join in this beautiful serene quiet place

Our emotion creates commotion as our undulations reach the shore
Ripples of joy they are as underwater hands explore
The coldness incites a reaction, in pert and firm caress
In delightful blend we release, two souls in loving press

Kissing we reach the bank, on her summer dress we lie
Sighing in breathless spoon, we stare at the green canopy sky
Many, many hours have passed, lying naked below the peeking sun
This is the day I met my scarlet woman, the day our lives began

Copyright © James Fraser

Details | Rhyme | |

Lyrically Spun

Beautifully woven ~ magically spun Carefully wondering about the years to come Awakened fury rises inside my soul of pride Driven ambitiously by this girls' ride Seeking in deepened abyss of my heart Finally found a woman who's smart Educated & classy ~ this angel drops into my life To pick up these jigsawed pieces inside me that crave a wife To be the gentle side of me when I am rough To be there with me ~ broken and lonely when life gets too tough To make me see the tender pieces of a woman (The difference from just taking her to the can) The sensitive side of her body I shall cherish Something that started simply from a wish The seductive spell of a body exactly like mine Same sex with this woman ~ finally time

Copyright © Sheryl Lynn Knoles

Details | I do not know? | |

My Black Ebony Queen

She is a true Black Ebony Queen,
A beautiful black woman that few have seen.
Her beauty is not from her looks, but what she possess on the inside,
And she lets God and wisdom be her guide.

Her style and grace is very rare,
When she walks in the room, everyone can’t help but to stare.
She had dignity and honor in the way she walks,
And she most definitely has a humbleness and boldness when she talks.

She carries herself in a very respectable way,
So that no one will have a bad thing to say.
She has what Willie Clayton called a “Unconditional love”,
And you only get that from one place the heavens above.

She is a true Black Ebony Queen,
A beautiful black sister that few have seen.

She’s not prideful or vain,
She should be placed in the True Black woman hall of fame.
Some may call her stuck up and weak,
Because she is quite and very meek.

You have to push her in a corner for her to really speak out,
And she’s one sister that will let you know what realness is all about.
In order to be her soul mate,
It will take a true Black king to step up to her plate.

She’s a true Black Ebony Queen,
A beautiful black sister that has hopes and dreams.
She may be tall or short and she could be thick or thin,
But this Black Queen will always be rated as a #10.

A true Black Ebony Queen,
Today is rarely ever seen.

Written by 
Vertie Adams

August 20, 2010

Copyright © Vertie Adams

Details | Rhyme | |

Fake Words

Fake Words – Zamreen Zarook

God have given us mouth,
Not to speak to north and south,
Tongue is given under an oath,
So it’s our duty to protect them both.

Girls chat fake with boys,
Having a notion that the boys are toys,
They often make varied noise,
Thinking to keep a trap on handsome guys.

Boys are also human being,
So it’s not possible being clean,
Things varies in the way they are seen,
So positive thinking will make you keen.

Boys’ minds are pure,
As it is pure bio,
So don’t try to pour vino,
Which will take decades to get cure.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook

Details | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Epic | |

Lipstick Night

A Beautiful woman
Sweet Voice, Hypnotizing eyes
Displays of smiles
Emotions of lies 
Life seems normal
No obvious dismays
Yet you have no idea about her life or necessary ways.
You would never know what story she has to tell
You would never know how she lives so well
Not an average career Yet one so real
Only the true Lipsticks now she  truly feels.
Shadows with no name
Conversations with no face
Only thing relevant is the action taking place
Makeup just right
Hair up tight
Eyelashes fluttering
Along with whispers in the night
They want to know more about her
So they try and converse
She accepts no emotional visitors 
Strictly business & Dead presidents to place in her purse
Her lipstick leaves her mark 
Dismisses those nameless shadows when the magic is done
Strictly pure survival
All work no fun
It Keeps the luxury in her pockets
A smile on her face
She a woman of strenth and undeniable grace
Sweet woman by day
A Beautiful host by night
Welcome to her world
Of a Lipstick Night

Copyright © Kioshi Love

Details | Romanticism | |

Ode to Mi Corazon

As I pull weeds from cracks in sidewalks
Yout sit on top of thrones made of solid gold
And I pay no mind to the women around me,
Only to your beauty do I hold an Ode.

I see my fair Spanish lady
my daring, sweet rose with thorns,
That run up and down her spine.
As she stops in the daily parade
Waving at the peasants,
She looks at me and summons her guards
Too take me away.

Her beauty is unbearable.
I cannot take not being with her
For a single moment in my life.
Her hair,
Black like coal,
Her smile is bright, as the first rays of the Red Sun
In the dawn.
Her lips painted with ruby lipstick,
her silk laced dress and shawl wrap around her,
Like a beautiful butterfly in her cocoon.
Her skin of olive, dark color and her green eyes.
My God, those sweet and piercing green eyes
Oh, how they hit my soul and make me shiver with excitment.
She is intoxicating and I am intoxicated in her beauty.

She is like an angel, a Latina beauty who walks the streets paved gold,
As I walk the cracked, cobblestone walkways.
She shines in the Spanish sun, like a dimoand in the ruff
As you blow the dust off her sweet brow,
she glows and sparkles with extordinary excellence.

She is beautiful and sweet and kind.
She loves me, but her father minds.
I am only a peasant, and she royalty.
Can our love ever be together in one holy matrimony?
I pray to the Lord, of all that is good,
Please give me a sign that she loves me.

Soon a storm came over,
blowing me down to the ground
And a cloud of dust swallowed me whole.
A great Conquistador on a great white stallion
pulled me up and told me that she wanted to see me.
I shacked with nervous of joy as I followed the warrior.

She was there, under a palm tree
Near a beautiful beach in Barcelona.
She smiled and a glow covered me with passion.
I hugged her and kissed her upon her sweet lips.
I tasted virginity and she tasted loyalty.
We both tasted beauty and harmony.
As the warrior left us,
We made love upon a vigin white sheet,
Soon covered with a flowing river of red.
She moaned with exticy and love was in the air.
The Ode to my sweet Spaniad, Mi Corazon!

We lay there in each others arms
Looking up at a clear night sky
The twilight glimmered ever so softly
And a shooting star blazed across the sky
I kissed her and she kissed me.
I whispered in her, "My love forever"
And she pushed me back upon the sheets
and we made sweet and ever lasting love again.
As we looked in each other's almond colored eyes.
I said to her, in a soft voice, Mi Corazon.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | Verse | |

My Words

Sometimes my poetry is just a case of words, 
and not necessarily my reality;                                     
and that’s what is so beautiful about writing

You can be who you want to be on any level 
and tell secrets about fantasies that may never be;  
or take trips to other dimensions on mental journeys,                                                                        or places that some don’t even think exist

They mimic thoughts that manifest themselves as poetry 
and rest on pages patiently waiting to adhere
My words are a reflection of my heart 
and they reveal the truth behind my mask of fear
they deliver reality doses  whether they are just cases, 
or me in the absolute right here

My words exude positive intentions; 
my imperfections apparent but I accepted rejections 
and reversed dejection  
and decided to bare all my fantasies, my flaws my very soul 
and temptations

Uncertain how voiced verses appeal to outside sources but internally they set me free
They provide a medium of light and creativity
A chance to apply knowledge and a time for reflecting on and making changes in my frequency
My words are attached to my soul and its overwhelming ability to just be
They reflect what I was before         
the choices I’ve made and the reasons that this life is perfect 
according to divine order

They represent the voices of my ancestors from the beginning of time 
because up until now, 
the ending wasn’t within reach so I make sure that I
carefully choose the format and the right place and time 
to deliver the message that may be blatant or hidden inside – 
of the abstract placements of verbs
giving praise to the source of power that calmly submits to the voice 
connected to my words
I am the originator of my own words
I hope that you are inspired, or simply entertained
by the process by which I've placed my words

Copyright © humble b

Details | Ballade | |

A Woman Like a Rose

The rose bud is small and the smell is so sweet
 And no other flower in the garden quite so unique

When the petals unfold it makes a beautiful rose
and  the fragrance of that flower fills the air 

Take the thorns from  that beautiful rose
and the beauty can no longer to be found

When the morning dew falls softly on  the rose
it's like a  tear on a woman's face when she cries

 And when a woman's pride  is  taken away
 like the rose her beauty is faded and gone

So never make a woman cry and men be very aware
her beauty may be hidden but the thorn is still  there

Copyright © Oma Bennett

Details | Rhyme | |

Would You Have Sex With Me

"Would you have sex with me?" I asked the woman adorned in her dress of fine lace.
She approached and proceeded to smack me right across my face.
I saw another beautiful woman and asked her the very same thing,
which resulted in my getting smacked across my face again.
Over and over I asked many beautiful women the very same question,
and over and over the result for me was always the same.
I was then approached by a gentleman who then did ask,
"What are you, some sort of sick and deranged masochist?"
"No," I replied, "I'm an optimist.
It only takes one to answer Yes."

Copyright © SillyBilly theKidster

Details | List | |

Qualities of Health Engendering Women

They see strengths
Not the limitations
These are people who will make you proud of yourself
They will tell you why you’re special
Trust you to the point you have to answer their expectations
They make you better than you normally are
You can be proud of yourself
They respect you 
For what you’ve done
Where you’ve come from
They see what you’ve experienced something real
Respect you for your courage
They live by their rules
They do not expect you to follow theirs
They are at peace to themselves
They are not proving anything to you
They are good listeners
Sincere in their interest in you
You feel important
They are available for honest
Genuine discussion
Makes you want to share yourself

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Details | Ode | |

An Ode To My Beloved

I just wanted to let you know
That I have this love for you...
Although I'm not fast to show
For you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
And I can't control this love
No matter what I try to do...

While I know our lives are separating
Which has got me pretty blue
I just want you to know
How much I love you...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

Oh how I still see you every night in my mind
You're the best girl I feel I'll ever find
And when my eyes would fall upon your smile
My heart would be put on trial
And so if nothing else, I want to let you know
That I'll always love you, that my hearts beat
For you, won't ever slow...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

So I wish you happiness beyond compare
And sorry for the times I couldn't help but stare
Caring, passionate, smart, and loving
From my heart, to you, I'll never be shoving

You will always be in my heart
No matter where we go, how far we drift apart...

Goodbye My Love...

Copyright © Andrew Shannon

Details | I do not know? | |

The Beach of Promises

The Beach of Promises


Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,

strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.


Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,

walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.


Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,

lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,

my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,

wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses