Best Blouses Poems
It has been DECADES!
And yet, for some ridiculous reason, we
still choose to TIE our shoes and
BUTTON our trousers, ZIP our
blouses.
How ridiculous.
When Man first invented the wheel, do
you suppose that there were some naysayers who said;
"I'm still going to drag my loads through the dirt on a rope. It was
good enough for my father and by gawd it's good enough for me!"
I doubt it.
So. (BUTTONS FLYS LACES)
Why do we stoop to such Medieval methods of
attatchment Today?
Who knows. But I eagerly await the day that Velcro finally
gets the credit it rightfully deserves.
Categories:
blouses, philosophy
Form:
Free verse
I have inside my wardrobe many clothes
composed of dresses, blouses, slacks and tops,
and as the number of these items grows,
so does my footwear. Lord, it never stops!
I’m not too good at throwing stuff away
except for things from when I was size nine!
So I can change my outfits day to day.
I love variety. It is divine!
I match accessories and jewelry
with all my clothing with its many hues.
I think I’d suffer from anxiety
without a rather large supply of shoes!
If just two pairs of shoes were all I owned,
I’d somehow have to get them color-cloned!
Aug. 1, 2017 for the Two Pair of Shoes Contest of John Lawless
Categories:
blouses, clothes,
Form:
Sonnet
Dismal tale of men and women in the dirty rail compartment
No conception of the charm being knitted by the movement
Of the necklace of gentle light in the pants shirts and blouses
All is too occupied in their struggle to notice the kind crescent
As they are returning home from their respective workplaces
Piteous story of apathy and woe all of them are absorbed in
An old lady chewing parched rice taking it from a rusted tin
In a dark corner is seated a youth with shirt all bloodstained
Suffering from tuberculosis and looking very fragile and thin
A worthless life of empty existence still wretchedly retained
Though no threshold he will come across leading him to a
Plate of rice and curry as at least one square meal a day
A hawker of playthings approaches them in a smiling face
A second vendor selling some human figures made of clay
A gloomy motion picture of life running in an unfair race
10/07/2017
Rhyme Time with 5 Poetry Contest sponsored by Laura Loo
Using the five words viz Piteous Bloodstained Threshold
Conception and Dismal
Categories:
blouses, discrimination, loneliness, sorrow, stress,
Form:
Rhyme
Blissful blossoms blooming
Look lustful lovers
Listless lovers looming
Krazy killer kisses
Swelter summer season
Belly breathing blouses
Bayside beaches burning
Winter worries wane
Glorious gracious gains
Happy hungry hearts
Dwellings do not depart
Picture pretty parts
Take the time to talk
Let listening lead to laughter
Commencing comfortable communication
HURRY HAPPILY EVER AFTER.
Categories:
blouses, beautiful, passion, summer,
Form:
Alliteration
She tried to get my attention a number of times
But It was not possible because
I was a country or two away
Wearing brown leather swashbuckler pants
White billowy blouses, and multi-buckled boots,
Fighting pirates with Sabers.
I was mighty and terrifying.
Hearing my war cry turned their blood to ice
Which is why I did not have to stab them
All I had to do was wave my sword around
And scream and they would jump ship
And get eaten by sharks or swim to land
Pride oozed out of me as I heard my battle cry.
Student me replaced pirate queen me hard and fast
When I heard my peers laughing
Apparently the teacher was not amused by a battle cry
In the middle of her boring math lesson
A Pirate Queen serving detention?
Unfortunately it happens
Categories:
blouses, 5th grade, 6th grade,
Form:
Free verse
Blissful blossoms blooming
Look LUSTFUL lovers
Listless lovers looming
Krazy killer kisses
Sweltering SUMMER season
Belly breathing blouses
Bayside BEACHES burning
Winter worries wane
Glorious gracious gains
HAPPY hungry hearts
Dwellings do not depart
Picture pretty parts
Take the time to talk
Let listening lead to laughter
Commencing comfortable communications
Hurry HAPPILY EVER AFTER
Categories:
blouses, happy, love, lust, summer,
Form:
Alliteration
Young girls screaming and yelling
High-heeled shoes
A man arriving at the scene
Nylon stockings with seam
Short skirts and thin blouses
Bright red lipstick
The music flows
He takes the microphone
Crying and screaming more
He takes some hip movements
Young girls swoon
"Are You Lonesome Tonight?"
Elvis Presley ... has arrived the stage
01.06.2013
A-L Andresen :)
Categories:
blouses, music,
Form:
Verse
Politics is all about haves and have nots.
Who gets ahead. Who waits in line.
Privileged ones, and the rest get denied.
Politics is about relative truth.
Data be damned. Conspiracies claimed.
Favors for votes. Constituents maimed.
Politics is about what party plays.
Which party stays. What's your world view.
A main course of elephant, donkey fondue.
Politics is I’m right, or maybe you’re wrong.
Debates and train rides. Buses and airlines.
Things heard on open mics and dark dye on hairlines.
Politics is lighting, cameras, makeup aglow
It's who do you know, and if they'll debate.
It's speeches, fundraisers, babies and chicken plates.
Politics is white houses, state houses, stained blouses.
It's tourists with playlists, local, statewide or global.
Incriminating texts, on phones that are mobile.
Politics is Uncle Joe's jail time, Aunt Betty’s brew.
And a family’s deepest dark secrets,
That cause church splits in the name of Jesus.
Politics is vote counting, as valuable as blood.
It's the trust that weaves things together.
Transparent as mud, and stable as weather.
Politics makes life better and sometimes much worse.
In the end, Politics is people.
Often rotten to the core sometimes even lethal.
Categories:
blouses, america, betrayal, humor, people,
Form:
Rhyme
Mother was a genius when it came to recyclin' flowery flour sacks,
Durin' The Great Depression to provide duds for her family's backs!
With her trusty pedal Singer Sewin' Machine she turned out a horde,
Of decent apparel that we could ill afford from Montgomery-Ward!
In gym class I could usually find a locker behind which to cower,
So as not to reveal my drawers toutin' 'Gold Medal Self-Risin' Flour'!
The shirts she made sported gaudy prints of petunias and roses,
And various critters such as unicorns and monkeys in silly poses!
Sacks made fancy bloomers for sister that advertised 'Baker's Delight',
Plus tawdry dresses, blouses and skirts, but with her that was alright!
'Pillsbury's All-Purpose Flour' graced the back of shirts worn by Dad!
Others were more subdued when Mom found a sack of simple plaid!
I reckon city folks thought we country folk looked kinda weird and funny,
Paradin' around in altered flour sacks, but there wasn't very much money,
Left for fancy things after Pa bought shoes and put grub on the table!
But, with a wink and spare change, he treated us to ice cream when able!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Entry for Judy Konos' "Whatever Happened To Flour Sacks" Contest
Categories:
blouses, family, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
DIFFERENT AND THE SAME
There was a petit young twin,
Who believed she could not win.
People would like to compare;
Most viewed her as part of a pair.
She had a couple of freckles on her face;
The sister had none any place.
Being compared and this twin a fretter;
Both were upset when she did better.
Wanting to do her best,
She rarely could rest.
Things tended to be of equal share;
If one had more, was it okay… or unfair?
One afternoon they went out to shop,
The sister liked a blouse with lace on top.
It turned out, no two blouses matched.
The twin preferred one--no lace attached.
The two were quite surprised;
A difference of tastes surmised.
An outpour of questions from each one came;
Both twins seemed to enjoy this new game.
Some answers were different and some alike…
Both wished for the same bike.
One liked to jump rope and run;
The other picked board games as fun.
One liked a winter snow storm;
The other loved it sunny and warm.
Then, the girls quietly walked along,
Humming the tune of a favorite song.
A separate identity, is what this twin uniquely searched for---
As a teen, she became less interested in what her sister wore.
When they were adults the two moved away;
One went to Chicago-- the other flew to L.A.
Categories:
blouses, conflict, kids, self,
Form:
Rhyme
Yesterday I found myself slumped
into the saddest of trenches,
for no particular reason
other than a new moon cycle.
Instead of flopping myself
in my studio’s armchair to write,
I drove to the mall for an outing
probably more expensive than
what a therapist would charge
for an hour in his armchair.
I wandered into the shoe store—
something about leather
which grounds me, whether
the flimsy strapless heels
or the closed-toed pumps or walkers.
Already lugging two bags, I meander
into the lingerie store for silk
to accentuate my only remaining
middle-age curves, skipping over the thongs
and hesitating at the push-up section.
I try on four or five pairs of underwear
to accentuate my butt area,
the part of a woman which shares the
secret of her fitness, that I work on
each morning at seven.
I arrive at the boutique who sells my favorite
blouses, gather some more bags, walking out
with an almost terminal case of rope burn,
until I finally decide it’s time to head back to my car.
On my way I stop, smile, and realize
there’s no better way to fight trench warfare.
Categories:
blouses, funny, happiness, introspection, loss,
Form:
Narrative
Sensitivity's what gals hold dear
in guys. High on their lists: his career.
What is it for us'll
make us want to nuzzle?
High skirts, low blouses, hot lovin', cold beer.
Categories:
blouses, girlfriend-boyfriend,
Form:
Limerick
Trousers and tights shirts
Tights and baggy blouses
Buff boots and converse
Heelys without wheels I do
Is what I wear
Is what I am
Is what I be
Under that dress and flats
Behind that hair style and makeup
Is what I pretend to be
Is what people want me to be
Is what they want from me
It’s a switch in personality
From boy to girl
Or that is what they say?
I act boyish?
I am being me
But they just won’t accept me
It’s not like I committed a crime against nature
I was just being me
Acting to be myself
And that is my nature
But what people also say
What I also noticed about myself
I intend to succeed in having
Two personalities
Tough? Soft?
Wild, sensitive?
Adventurous, poetic?
Athletic, lazy
Singer, screamer
Dancer, deep?
Fighter, surrender?
Strong, weak…
Is that what they say?
Or is it just mixed up?
I’m glad I do…
Categories:
blouses, introspection, parody, passion, philosophyme,
Form:
Free verse
I stay late to steal the night air to owl cry, looking on the virgin ideas to rainfalls. August augmented my hope to millennium laughter. Bell rings to escort the escapees from scandals to bloom as blouses, under virgin legs.
I chain ideas together to fix fact from fiction to whistle blow. I dissolved salt to salute the King on his reign of majesty in the Island to the Icelander. Robb not the knot tied in the heart of bride to the bridge.
Diamonds to dinosaurs from brew of coffee to cough mixture to euphoria hope. Ballad gossips to the failure of adjectives to describe my desire to discrepancy velvet. Penultimate to penguin loves with pedophilia and conversion from deceit to delicacy love.
A family gen that cemented us together is thicker than water fractured by crack of gun sinister love. You refuse to references the refugees on the red light alert.
Label the talents to termites’ hearsay, somber to saga poem that powers my element of thinking to the twinkle of bell to strategic maneuvers
Yelling to yellow leaf yonder aspirant astonished to dangling wire to the wild lives. Courthouse cut courtesy captions in the newspapers very special hot tea in the morning. Dictum the dog master sneak virgin Island and excursion bodyguards to curtail the escalation of situation under gunpoint.
Categories:
blouses, good night, motivation, philosophy,
Form:
Personification
We wore our meri blouses
And on stilts built our houses…
We carried our bilums so beautiful
And custom dressings so very colourful.
We wore our island dresses
And displayed our art in richness…
We played our native string-band
And drew creative designs on sand.
We wore our dark sulus
And brown costumes not too loose…
We had high standards of fashion sense
And portrayed our crafts so immense.
We wore our shell necklaces
And a smile on our pretty faces…
We proudly exhibited our pan-piping
And were famous for our musical singing.
We wore our Caledonian dresses
And straw hats with leaves of freshness…
We spoke in our native francophone
And laid out our valuable money in stone.
So much vast diversity in culture
And numerous traditions needing nurture…
So much customs unique in many ways
Being revived and exposed these 14 days.
Though we were faced with many challenges
We have overcome for much further voyages…
PNG, Vanuatu, Fiji, Solomon & New Caledonia –
Still one and still celebrating the values and spirit of our Melanesia.
Categories:
blouses, art,
Form:
Verse