Best Catwalks Poems
Catwalks
Crowd gawks
Wont style
Forced smile
Strike pose
Fake nose
Weird strut
Flat butt
Scant curves
Unnerves
Small-hipped
Lunch skipped
Stick-thin
Chagrin
Faux tan
Pecan
Plucked brow
Used plough?
Long lash
Bleached 'tache
Plump lips
Veiled nips
Waxed mound
Astound
Forebear
Despair
Sweet girls
Morph churls
Sly pout
Grim trout
Taut thighs
All lies
Make hot
Post-shot
Airbrushed
Not hushed
Mere gaud
Defraud
Model?
Twaddle!
- - - - - - - - - -
25 November 2017
For the "Footle Form - Sequenced or Stand-Alone" contest, sponsored by Brian Strand.
Fashionable Fall flaunts her lustrous leaves,
catwalks flowing flora with earnest ease.
Haunting lullabies from the quaking trees
cast chilling currents from mountain to keys.
Dancing diamonds of glistening glow
show skies with promise of soon-to-be snow.
Sunrises and sunsets are a fireworks show
scattering the stars like dice in a throw.
Gowns of complementary colors trace
ribboned harvest fields at riotous pace.
Swirling with natural, elegant grace,
her glamor failing and fast losing face.
Tattered trees largely stripped bare of their clothes
leave a psychedelic pathway that flows.
With each rowdy breeze, it gustily blows,
and turns pale snozzle to a reddened nose.
With stinging, shallow breath and crimson cheeks
embrace lacy lakes and mountains’ paling peaks
till Winter steals through Fall and solemnly seeks
favor for upcoming ice-hearted weeks.
- Dancing Shoes, No Thanks -
For me to make a choice is easy
Freedom for my little toes
Not shiny or high heels
No catwalks or dance floor I seek
Sore toes and heels create nightmares
I choose the color red, just because it is cool
You can borrow my shoes for a day and two
So give them your time and give them your heart
No problem to walk mil after mil
It is the easiest thing
I doubted if you ever
would come back
28.08.2016
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
(unrhymed couplets)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
wouldn't it be a perfect day
the day we meet eye to eye
under the sun's beautiful gaze
of two souls meant to be one
i in my many tethered imperfections
transcended into a one crowned perfection
and you with you deep voice of a broken man
transformed into a newly created Adam
i've had my sour shares and slashes
puckered lips on camera shots followed by heartbreaking first dates
translucent skin tights of a hopeful love
selling what I didn't have, a "love" that I never had
blindly developing into another statistic
the single and unhappy
phobic to the advancing age and the biology of things
angry at how my bad girl girlfriend would end up with a great catch
yet my little bad girl catwalks threw me in a ditch somewhere
and worse my good girl moves never saved me
and here I am ...oh how I can't stand love poems and Love songs and Love this and that
chained forever to the mystery of it
maybe when you come and unlock it
then I will know how
then I will know love
Away...
Spot her from far.
Have a tingle mingle all over your skin.
Award your forehead a scratch
As you do the arduous estimations
Of the remaining catwalk steps
Before her beauty kisses your eyes.
Let sanity flee from your mind.
(That's OK.Never mind.
Angels are never meant
For sane minds)
Coming your way...
Prepare to talk to her
Practise how to greet her
Whisper to yourself a greeting
Whose sweetness tricks
Your zygomaticus muscle
Into a seductive smile.
Then bite your lower lip alluringly
As the best Romeo and Juliet scene
Overwhelms the whole of you.
Enjoy the roller-coaster feeling
Of a heart that forgets its own rhythm.
A few minutes away...
To get on top of your muddled up feelings
And wake up the confidence demon
Wave your head in a 'NO' manner.
Grab a gorgeous gazale gaze of her.
Don't allow the jealous of a blink
To spoil this monumental moment.
Sink your nervousness deep
Inside the well of sighs.
Cast a blind eye on the people's eyes
Or acknowledge them as your cheerleaders.
It's about time...
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Elevate your hands like a clergyman in prayer
Just to inspect the odour of your exhaled air
That will transport your practiced greeting.
Regulate your lungs to spray your Rose
With nothing but the fragrance of roses.
It's time now...
Exactly when she gets near
Cockily say, 'Good morning, Madam.'
Immediately after the words slip
Away from the tip of your lip,
Remember that, 'Afternoon'
Is almost embarking on her sleep
And that the Madam title is ...
Cover your mouth instantly
As if trying to capture back the awakward greeting
Fancy the way she disguises
Her guffaws as a smile-
Revealing her pretty dimples
Concealed in the soft flesh of her cheeks
Almost...
Observe her as she catwalks it away
Leaving you dumbstricken all the way
Listen until her footsteps die away
Start scratching your backhead right away
Wondering which spell she used
To transmute your 'Hey Pretty Lady'
Into a 'Good morning, Madam'
During such perceivable old noon hours!
Blame yourself the whole day.
Tighten your fist like Muhammad Ali
Preparing to release his Sunday punch.
Then with a suppressed sigh sadly say:
TOMORROW will be a better day!
Tomorrow...
Hot humid heatwave
Discomfort percolates long;
Sudden drenching rain
~~~~~~~~~
Sexy curvy strides
Vibrant elegance catwalks;
Hungry eyes focus
~~~~~~~~~
Two stray cats fighting
Furious body language here;
Small tigers draw blood
~~~~~~~~~
Ancient atmosphere
Old tea house in the city;
Strange calligraphy
~~~~~~~~~
Bus-stop commotion
Two drunken men in a brawl;
Tipsy foreign tongues
~~~~~~~~~
Temple bells sounding
Distant chanting rituals heard;
Prayer for our times
~~~~~~~~~
Late night wordplay moves
Missing lines stray on the verge;
Nothing much to say
~~~~~~~~~
Abrupt morning rain
Disrupts our simple routine;
Extra sleepy dreams
~~~~~~~~~
Here journeys begin
Trace cryptic constellations;
Dream upon a dream
~~~~~~~~~
Joy and peace appeal
Insidious intent conspires;
Clash of conflicts hurl
~~~~~~~~~
Little red-dot nation
Multi-lingual harmony;
Hypertensive calm
~~~~~~~~~
Beware of conflicts
Sensitive notions preside;
Keep the status quo
~~~~~~~~~
The Singapore wave
Echoes of the Kallang roar;
SEA Games here in June
~~~~~~~~~
Pretty play on stilts
Comely countenance lights May;
Orchard Road hazard
~~~~~~~~~
Listen to dawn light
Hurl dazzling colours that play;
Blurry eyes awake
~~~~~~~~~
Moment of madness
Reason clowning with passion;
Edgy concoctions
~~~~~~~~~
Being one with you
So many years of pure joy;
Love writes fond passage
~~~~~~~~~
May masquerades well
Contradicts odd intentions;
Old memories curl
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
12 May 2015
Singapore
THINGS THAT HATE ME
Spaghetti, for I don’t allow it to outrun my utensil
I chop it all to inch-long pieces then use my fork as a shovel.
Expensive French wine, for I won’t ever pretend
It’s much more delicious than Californian, “Oh it’s the end!”
Italian shoes: they grumble at each other and say
He never boasts our nationality, only speaks of comfort each day.
Versace men’s clothes, for I know they are no different to other clothes,
Only pricier and rather dull and a foreign name that one loathes.
Gateshead, because I think it was a horrible place to be born and raised
And it thinks it’s a cool up-to-date nice place now, but it should still be rased.
England, for I don’t miss it at all , and will never seek
The company of expats who say they are indeed such a clique.
Cell phones, for I won’t carry them absolutely everywhere
And won’t answer at each beep as if life depended on its blare.
Cars, which try to assert their importance as boys’ toys -
My interest is in lovely things which make no smelly noise.
Colds and flu, for I don’t allow them to spoil my whole day.
Just take regular remedy stuff and go on normally.
Ultra-slim fashion models scowling on catwalks because I say
They are only skinny girls and rather plain-looking, rather grey.
Australia, because I won’t say it’s a wonderful place,
Only a desert and a few big towns pretending to be like the USA’s.
Italian language, because it is “the most beautiful and spoken with ease”
And this is obviously not so to the Welsh or Chinese.
Football games, for they insist on pretending to be crucial to life
And much more important than kids or wife.
Squeaky hinges, wobbly tables, leaky taps and broken things myriad -
Because I don’t allow them to exist for an interminable period.
By the way, things that don’t hate me include the US Navy,
Folk music, cats, Richard Nixon, and kasha with gravy,
……..For obvious reasons.
She sits sullen
Quiet and isolated
Onto a sea-shell littered shore
Beaten by the wave
Like a mute deafen by the midnight air
Child-like,
She stares at the moon with freckles of moonrock
Silhouetted against the sky streaked with white
As if tie-dyed in pale grey
As she reluctantly sniffs the salt-scented
Twilight mist cast by the sea breeze
Worn-out,
She strums the smooth silhouette of
Her companion —a suspicious-looking
Bottle fogged-up by her breath.
Considering such of a
Sister —not in blood but in heart.
In a single doubtful gulp,
She devours its rust colored liquor
Which, too later, guarantees nothing but
The rest her body aches for.
Seconds passed,
Sea birds have flown
Streams of sweat
creep south the sides of her face
The pins and the needles kick-off
Their catwalks on the runway pole of her spine.
While, the spotlight of her mind clothes
Her thoughts with numbness.
She sits still
Now prostrate with unease
Like a pigeon that had lost half of its feathers
Beads of tears trickle
Down the wingtips of her lips
Frozen with a smile half-baked.
Subconsciously
Her eyes shut
but gently
For good.
Blues in the night.It speaks on her behalf.
Sacred Cat Society
Known for notoriety
Princess, the Head
She's royal bred
Follows cat propriety
Princess loves to primp and preen
She keeps herself very clean
She gets her wish
Fish in her dish
Otherwise she will turn mean
Princess prances like a queen
She behaves like a spoiled teen
Catwalks around
Regally crowned
If crossed, she will make a scene
Princess plays with her fur ball
Has us at her beck and call
At her meow
To her we bow
She acts like a Miss Know-all
22nd February 2023
For Mystic Rose Rose's contest
I wish I loved the sufferer,
I wish I loved the pioneer,
I wish I loved the real lover,
I wish I loved the human mind qonquerer.
I wish I loved the human race,
I wish I loved their silly face,
I wish I loved their grace,
I wish I loved to avoid the abhorrence.
I wish I loved the way woman talks,
I wish I loved the way woman walks,
I wish I loved the way woman catwalks,
I wish I loved the way woman sleepwalks,
I wish I loved to avoid fighting,
I wish I loved to avoid cheating,
I wish I loved to avoid useless talking,
I wish I loved to avoid back slashing.
Swastikas Today on Temple Mizpah
The kitchens of Auschwitz
are belching again.
Ancient chefs,
puffed hats askew,
storm once more
the catwalks swaying.
When the ovens are full,
the chefs dig pits
in the kitchen floor, set
silver spits, roast fryer thin
the legs and wings they’ve
cleaned and cleavered. Yes,
the kitchens of Auschwitz
are belching again.
Donal Mahoney
Cats got yo tongue,
catwalks, runs stalks prowls;
Meow!
Catheads catalog catlike people.
Meow, yet they smell cationic;
Cats got yo tongue!
Catlings catmints containments within parsnips;
Catnaper catcher of meow winks;
And does a catfish eat mice;
Cats got yo tongue!
And does a dog walk down a catwalk;
Does a catbird tweet-tweet...
And does a catchup ever get behind;
Do cats wear shoes with their catsuit;
Does a catboat sink or floats;;
Catcall the caterer chatter-chatter-
Cats got yo tongue;
MEOW!
8/4/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2019
let white roses be planted for lady "tee"
to grace her foot steps,
white berries fused in her garden
to press you sweet wine
snowy snow snows the earth
that your pink sapphire shoes
you used to walk on me
the ages we swam passed
the bee's hive we ate
it sting we sheltered
for our love was a seal
from sky to sky we flew high
the cloud was our heavenly clothing,
a scarf to the skylines
nature attires at pinnacle
then the heavenly doves
spray your paths whites roses
to tender your catwalks
on the day you gave your favour
then the heavenly doves
pick for you white berries
such sweetening pure
purity is heavenly front line row,
trumpet call melodies
heavenly robes descending
angels singing rejoicing
heavenly bell ringing
white throne party
judgment appealing
saints singing
hallelujah
better days
ahead.
a white
letter to lady "tee"
from a pure n open
heart gee
As I toss a silver coin into the mango contoured fountain, a lilac laden tone
that reeks of flower garden ether archly probes.
“What somersaults bewitch those forehead rivulets when synchronising waves of rhythmic thought?”
Psychic or clairvoyant
on this steamy summer’s day probing quizzically behind her crystal shades.
She really looked quite stunning in her black ink forest hat, and the green leek blouse that flopped upon an indigo blue denim skirt so worthy of those flash iconic catwalks.
Apple blossom cheeks and almond blushes rounding off the very essence of a bubbly new age sprite.
“What unfolds on expressions or the batting of an eyelid can reveal what’s beyond the sharpest mirror, pool or light.”
I meekly chimed in prim delay.
Our thoughts can often harvest dreamt-up pearls, ooze sweat from figment pores, while those inner sensors squeeze a harassed brain set to exude some magic flight bound lantern gem.
Fortunes can be made from noon day musing if one scratches deep enough on mystic brows.
Without an inkling or a cautionary whisper this daughter of dimensions from the eeriest beyond, phantom, spook, mirage, dropped out of sight.
A spotted pale blue purse is all that’s left from where I stood of this early bird ephemeral encounter.
jaw dropping
street savvy
what a looker
right out of the pages
of Vogue magazine
street smart model
walks with swagger
o such flair
perfect look
flawless hair
timeless outfits
put together
like no other
what style
nonchalantly
with each stride
strutting their stuff
on the streets
of outdoor catwalks
AP: 1st place 2022, Honorable Mention 2025