Best Camisole Poems
Love bites took me to a new place
tiny teeth marks I can't erase;
Laid back you looked for my entrance,
passing third base, passing third base;
Hungrily you nipped at my soul,
ripped the lace of my camisole;
Whispered on my skin 'Keep control..
stay in your role, stay in your role.
She and the handsome gentleman finalized the contract, and he gently placed
the antique pearl necklace into the palm of her tiny hand. As he walked away,
she fantasized about making love with him, for he possessed both charm and
exceptional good looks; he certainly was enchanting...thick, black wavy hair,grey-
green eyes...tall...muscular ~ oh, those muscles...all over his tanned body...head
to toe.
But she wondered about that limp as he walked away, depending on a heavy
metal
staff
for
balance...
after all, an eternity of beauty and power in exchange for
one
pathetic
soul.
The evening of the deed was a frigid six degrees, and there was a dead smell of
the sun. She stayed late after work, waiting anxiously until everyone had gone.
Finally, he was alone in his office, so she placed the pearl necklace around her
fragile neck and unbuttoned her red, silk blouse so to reveal her sexy red
camisole.
She entered the office, and gently leaned over him from behind; he was aroused
by the scent of her "Red Door" cologne...his favorite, and his senses were even
more heightened as he turned around and observed her erect breasts speaking
in a language only he understood. With his large hands, he slowly explored her
thighs, making his way up her black skirt.
"You have beautiful legs."
"You think so, huh?"
They kissed, and the necklace brushed his chest; he didn't feel well, at all. He
was hot...so hot, and his body began its metamorphosis, retaining a grayish
tinge....then blackish...
He
burst
into
flames;
then, disappeared along with all omens of the deed.
She walked over to the black wrought iron mirror and smiled; her wrinkles were
gone...vanished...just as promised; she was ten years younger.
The windows began sweating, and the handsome stranger appeared.
"I have one more assignment for you."
"But we made a deal, one soul."
She began to feel peculiar, and as she viewed herself in the black mirror, she
began aging...ten years...twenty...thirty...she pulled out a large clump of thin, white
hair.
The room darkened from his moonly mind.
"My dear, the other soul...is yours."
Inspiration from Frederic Edwin Church's
painting, The Arabian Desert
~
I press along this arid wasteland
thirsting for your eyes
beneath a mirage of low stars,
my airbrushes stroked in Arabia;
the cauldroned copper dunes
and your moorish fragrance
Become an oasis for this parched mouth--
the sinous dust blowing legends
murmuring Bedouin rites unsaid;
and through embers of a gas light
my imaginings weave in hynotic threads...
Syrian desert touched by midnight
as pores recall my ancient prurient cravings,
I memorize mules roaming by
yet this grandeur leaves me
distraught... for time rushes to steal
a filament of one torrid journey
it's end I cannot defy-- the lavish
fondling on needled sandunes,
I tell you, my rabid body alights
moist in flamed tincture of moonshine,
radiant as an orange gold portrait,
fog swiveling tumbling on scattered weeds--
airy tunes wriggling this jeweled belly
with smoky flavor penetrating my camisole,
where a migrant gull whistles the grit
of an impassioned night...
Alone, as finger-strokes deepen,
the concave blast of reveries
and winds carry your breath
sweet and damp upon my neck;
while one tiny cactus pierces my skin
oiled...watercolored
with faint longing.
Football, volleyball, baseball, softball,
Racquetball, handball, basketball, hardball. . . .
There're lots of sports in the world you play with a ball,
And you can't play any of them if you're an oddball.
If you want to be good at any such sport,
You've certainly got to give it your all.
No such sport is as easy as playing with a snowball.
Choose one of those sports and pay all your attention to it.
If you don't devote your energy to it,
You'll surely fall into a downfall.
Before your practice, you shouldn't take a highball
Or any other kind of alcohol.
If you do, you may get into a pitfall.
During a game, there're numerous dangers to forestall.
If you don't take enough care, you may rush into a sidewall.
Or you may even get your head crushed against a stonewall.
Be on guard not to catch cold during a snowfall.
If you make any such blunder, you'll end up being a goofball.
After your practice, take a good rest, which is a real cure-all.
Whenever you feel dry in your nose, use a spray of aerosol.
If your girlfriend is with you, ask her to put on a camisole.
If she's a beautiful girl from Nepal,
Have her use a brilliant orange parasol,
Whose design reminds you of a refreshing waterfall.
If you feel uncomfortable kissing her,
Try some toothpaste with xylitol,
Perhaps with a little bit of menthol.
That may remind you of your ex-lover
Who spoke beautiful Provençal.
When you think you've eaten too much,
Start watching your level of cholesterol.
If you don't, you may be no better than a neanderthal.
If you do, your life will get back to a pastorale.
Well, I think that by now I've told you all.
(June 28, 2015)
My Fantasy Love
I remember it like it was yesterday, that time when we first met,
I saw you from across the room, a day I’ll never forget.
Your well groomed hair and dapper dress, immediately caught my eye,
With clouded vision, heart fast beating, I missed you walking by.
I remember it like it was yesterday, that time when we first met,
You asked me to dance and I said yes, nervous with palms of sweat.
I felt like a young debutant, at her coming out ball,
The only thing missing was the fancy white dress, complete with camisole.
I remember it like it was yesterday, that time when we first met,
You re-appeared out of nowhere, like a shadowed silhouette.
A smile darned my face again, and I wanted to know your name,
Then out of the blue, you presented me with a bouquet of candy canes.
I remember it like it was yesterday, that time when we first met,
I saw you from across the room, a day I’ll never forget.
Its many years later now and the memories still remain,
So cheers to you, My Fantasy Love, as I sip my pink champagne!
Written © 12/6/15
Submitted for: Poetry contest First Love
Sponsored By: Frank Herrern
Drogman*, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Drogman by T. Wignesan
My mother, illustrious in the kingdoms of the Orient
Is seated surrounded by water
The water forms a belt around her, a boat.
This’s the threshold of infancy
The step which leads into the past
Is filled up by the sea.
You’re accoutred as a very old princess
In dire age-old poverty
A sack tied to the small of your back
An ashen camisole.
The odour of the humus in autumn
Tames me into accepting your disappearance.
Your face is the wind that blows on me
Another wind blows past the back of my eyes.
Since you are now eternally
Impenetrable and black
Impenetrable and black.
Even with stars twinkling from time to time
The way out was impossible.
Now that you are dead some twenty years
I understand that my dreams
Speak in your voice.
My premonitions indicate to what extent I loved you
I who was ashamed
Of your derangement.
Heavy are the tears of love flowing in me
Huge and tenderly
And it’s like a change in the seasons
The change in reason
All that was atrocious and absurd to me
Makes some sense to me now.
Mother, you wished that your son
Became a drogman in the kingdoms of the Orient
In order to be able to explain your plight.
Today as a sleeper I return
To the brink of an infancy
Which is my death
Perhaps I assume this truth.
My dreams form the crest of your discourse
Their coherence is their ocean
Your shadow, lonely seagull and savage
Is my spirit
• Don’t quite know what this word means, unless its etymological origins are to be found in the Arabic « tarjuman », meaning « translator ».
(Tu, O.C. t. II, p. 531)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Have you ever seen someone walk into a pole
Happened to me once while out for a stroll
Had a poem in mind
To all else I was blind
Should've paid attention, dirtied my camisole
© Jack Ellison 2015
A sweet young girlie in bra and panties
Makes my wee friend stand up and get all antsy
I lose total control
Squirming in my camisole
As I longingly survey her curvy young chassis
© Jack Ellison 2015
We came to start the partyrock. Got some Grey Goose, Gin, Red Berry Ciroc. We're birds of a feather baby, join the flock. Because we're white boy wasted, rockin like Dethklok. Chillax lil mama, just do the wave. and if you don't know how, you gon learn today. When it comes to having fun baby, we don't play. Sending double shots out like bombs away. HEEEEY!!! we got a lot of alcohol and some super cool brothas who are always down to ball. And you can do whatever baby, you can have it all. I just need to take a peek underneath your camisole. (that's all) Im looking for a ride or die. Don't just kick it with a brotha, be the apple of my eye. They say money is the limit. NAW, limit is the sky. Just take my hand and watch how the time flies.
Abit delayed in entering but heres my piece.
I am So sorry Silent One for not been on time to enter....
The Coral sun silently rises
And breaks its way into the Crimson sky.
His comforting arms are wrapped around her,
As he stares with adoration into her Emerald eyes.
A welcomed cool breeze enters the room,
Bringing in the smell of the fresh salty air,
Pushing aside the Silver and Gold curtains,
Revealing two bodies that are slightly bare.
She tugs on the Lilac sheet covers,
As he finds his way down her chest.
Slowly removing her Turquoise camisole,
To get a glimpse of her beautiful soft breasts.
The Magnolia waves crashes in,
Leaving the rugged Charcoal rocks unshaken,
He gently kisses her Cerise lips,
And her passion he slowly awakens...
He heard the car and came running,
Jumped and whirled in the air,
Barking his happiness!
Dad lifted her down in her yellow-flowered
Camisole and high heeled shoes.
The dog dropped,
His hind quarters hunched down,
Body sprung parallel to the ground,
Ears laid back, hackles raised.
He'll get used to you, Dad said,
Tapping him with his foot.
But he didn't. She was afraid.
Big black shepherd, watching stalking.
The dog lay there with the chain
Stretched out, eyes riveted
On the back door of the house.
She didn't like it. What if he gets loose
When you're not here?
I can't even go to the garden
Without his eyes on my back!
Dad put a piece of meat in her hand.
The black nose ever so slightly withdrew.
-Eat it, growled Dad, and he did
With a long slow tongue,
Looking up from under reproachful brows.
But it was spoiled.
Dad couldn't stand it that
The dog wouldn't mind.
He kicked it and it trailed after him,
But still froze when the woman came outside.
He just couldn't give it up.
They had to shoot the dog.
The yellow and brown and red leaves
Were falling and sticking together
On the path into the woods.
A light drizzle added to the metallic shine.
They walked along the slippery surface,
The two of them,
With the rifle and the spade.
The dog jogged on ahead,
Looking back over his shoulder,
Smiling at the routine he is familiar with.
It only takes a minute
Once you reach the back fence.
You have to do it fast if you're going to.
You can talk out-loud afterward,
Explaining while you dig him in.
That way he doesn't have to see it.
The ground is not yet frozen.
Dad smooths it over and already
Leaves begin to drift across the bare soil.
Deliberately, one by one,
He places his feet on the returning path,
Looking up through the sketches
Of black tree limbs against the sky.
He feels stiff and sore.
Leaning the gun against the grain bin,
He pulls down a bottle
From the low rafter overhead.
A couple of swigs before he goes inside.
This is not the story they told me.
The dog's name was Rex.
Dad pointed to an old photograph
In the box of old photographs.
-Good ol' Rex, he said.
Agnetha's bottom was a joy to behold
Watching her cavort, made me lose control
A bum so firm
Made me squirm
Wish I could've fiddled inside her camisole
From eve's mural, she glints lusciously
waking duskfall with bolder hues
and toasted flames kindling warm passion…
that in stylus of breezes which etches
tinted oak, petals, and grass --- her tiara
bursts into sweet madness on earth's landscape:
How she flickers more daring
than a blend of innocence and rawness,
glittering through a ruby camisole
Luna unfurls her exotic angle--
delicate skin fluid, glossy, inviting :
Then to pose against an opaque view
which imprints the alchemy of romance,
this moon goddess ignites all lovers' dream--
until in capricious whirlwind
she evanesces... lusciously radiant.
-----------
3.11.2019
Liquid Luna Lace Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Red garters and black stockings
With a black lace camisole
Complete seductive attire
....anticipation
Agnetha's bottom was a joy to behold
Watching her cavort, made me lose control
A bum so firm
Made me squirm
Wish I could've fiddled inside her camisole