Best Chemise Poems
Quote by: Melancholy Of Innocence
LOVE is the spark within the speck illuminated & suspended in a sunbeam.
A ray of sunbeam falls across her face as she plays piano
a warm sunlight caresses the keys and brings to life
memories of love that bloom like noon day sun
Suspended in time like a soft sonata lingering on the mind
sensual, sexy, like a silk chemise wafting in the wind
yesterday's story sits unsung, arias captured OH! my heart
Here in her forever she sings softly to no one in particular
habile as the sentinel that perches and then soars
the illumined face of an Angel, a speck a spark of LOVE
that no amount of silence can clothe....
The moon was peeking through the naked trees
The breeze that blew that day had gone to bed
A lonely nightingale perched overhead
Harassed the silence with his sad reprise
The creaking porch swing's old familiar tune
No fitting lyrics could I ever write
To my sweet love on this warm firefly night
The melancholic song I'd never croon
Ten trillion stars, a shimmering chemise
Which cloaked the sky in sparkles green and red
Connected by the rays of golden thread
How could one tire, admiring nights like these?
Upon magnolia trees, blossoms were strewn
The nightingale heard his call and took flight
I might sit here until the morning light
Like days of old, these nights would make us swoon
sporting a colorful chemise
a camera and a valise
temptations so easily tease
roaming as free as honeybees
tourists hear beckonings as pleas
and capture beauty with much ease
tiny things no bigger than peas
or vast expanse of deep blue seas
weeping willows in the breeze
ornate houses of bourgeoisies
candles lit to divinities
friendly playful bitty chickadees
lovable girl about to sneeze
a soldier's return from overseas
referees calling penalties
lovers creating memories
strange amazing intricacies
silly whimsical fantasies
many types of absurdities
two elephants on a trapeze
seven vine swinging chimpanzees
bears savoring delicacies
oddities among novelties
unavoidable catastrophes
moments of awe you want to freeze
as many of these as you please
photos are lovely memories
many worthy of galleries
each artist a fan of what he sees
Published in PoetrySoup's first anthology "PS: It's Poetry: An anthology of contemporary poetry from around the world" Paperback 2020
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~THE MIND'S CANVAS~ 2023
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2021
February 27, 2018 for FAVORITE RHYMING POEM EVER CONTEST sponsored by LAURA LOO - RANKED 2ND
January 1, 2018 for BEST RHYMING POEM OCT-DEC CONTEST sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 3RD
November 30, 2017 for MERAKI CONTEST sponsored by SILENT ONE - RANKED 1ST
Mint stars reaching out to greet the sky
Cool zephyr blowing across your cheeks
Much nearer, your silhouette appears
Like a fog carried by beams ,you advance
With sequins on hair tossed by the breeze
As your flowing chemise billows like a sail
To throttle on bare toes across our woods
I seek your face rising from scented grass
A nape blushing like jasmine’s breath
I become an orbit twirling summer’s fire
That my eyes behold a sigh in the light
And the edges between us grow tighter
While your fingers moan to whisper this lore;
“The stars will be watching us,
and we will show them
what it is to be a thin crescent moon.
You and I unselfed, will be together...”
And this magic frees me to sing in drawls
You murmur,"soak in the pour of rain,"
While we lay on the meadow of my arms
Allowing the lanterns that hang on air
To consume a flame kindling our breaths
Until you and I become one stem.
----- --------------
*Inspiration from the poem of Sufi poet, Rumi,
( A Moment of Happiness), a stanza highlighted
above.
Any Poem Contest #4
Things bloom more beautiful when breaking down.
The nave now ploughs through foams of flowering trees,
a frozen caravel. Kissed by the breeze,
the river surface suddenly seems to frown
exquisitely. The apse’s jaunty crown
of weeds above one (sightless) eye would please
romantic poets. What was once a friese
lies strewn about, a shaley shanty-town.
We love whatever withers, atrophies.
To see a calked construction founder, drown
beneath its own detritus, by degrees
slough off its shape and, sinking to its knees,
expire, is satisfying. Velvet gown?
We’d much prefer to see a soiled chemise.
A lake? A cloud? A mountain? Megan Fox?
If we acknowledge Beauty in these things,
what are we saying? As when Smokey sings,
or girls emerge in slinky summer frocks,
something’s taking place outside the box
of regularity, and sprouting wings.
How might we classify these happenings?
A rupture in the norm? The whole Baroque’s
built on this very point. If Beauty rocks,
what is the special quality it brings,
and why is it so pleasing? Beauty flings
a spanner in the works of Orthodox,
and laughs at Workaday. It mocks
our essence, lurks in quirks, and smirks at clocks.
“The Wordsworth ouevre is cretinous. Discuss.”
The Long, Laborious Quest, The Sparrow’s Nest,
The Noble Oak of Guernica, Addressed –
We can’t escape the feeling he’s a wuss.
His subjects are unconscionable, plus
the rhymes he uses are a facilefest.
If only he were even half in jest!
His humour’s unintentional, and thus
more entertaining than he could have guessed.
Yet something in his scribblings seems to wrest
significance from dross, analogous
to Newton’s differential calculus,
invented by the by, at whim’s behest.
When Wordsworth falls apart, he’s at his best.
Fall's levitating leaves,
wafting on gentle breeze.
Each one vainly believes
it can fly high with ease.
Colors beg hearts to cease!
Kaleidoscopic trees
wave wild without surcease,
flailing sleeveless chemise,
bringing one to one's knees.
Radiant days to please!
Our two funny limmerists are at it again
Clucking about like two mother hens
Jack's chemise is just wrong
Can't look at John's thong
Hey ya two cowpokes, when's this all going to end
An unmarked auction house in the cellar
Fat cat millionaires outbid one another
A quiet pissing contest
To be the lowest of low-lifes.
A living corpse up for gropes...I mean grabs.
She’s a virgin, for now.
Chocolate curls over a red silk chemise
Cerulean eyes, swollen.
Fifteen years old with her head in the clouds,
Drug-induced of course.
She wasn’t willing.
The closing bell won’t change that.
What do we suppose the winning bid will be?
A suburban mother sobs and curses god
from a twin-sized bed
drowning in red silk sheets and tears
under a boy-band poster.
Another runaway, the Sherriff had shrugged.
Third one this week.
He was in a hurry.
Working two jobs so he could retire.
I work at an auction, said he.
But no one was listening.
The Senator shared a knowing wink
Jingling coins in his red silk pocket.
I'll start the bidding.
4/7/15
With downpour hued in starlit gray,
And fallen eyes are interlocked
In drizzles where the torrent bites
Till candles wane on fabric soiled
(As evening slips its frail chemise).
Her boudoir cluttered by the wind,
Sighing a pitter-patter scream
(Old woman dwells on passing sprees)
And on a chair, her drooped spine curves,
(To track hazed lifetime’s reveries);
Receding off so constantly.
Heels tip tap rhythm on the floor;
Alone, betrothed to lonely sheets
(Entrusting stars for pain’s release).
How cold the gush in Summer's flight.
......................
For Craig Cornish’s Intermingle Contest
---------------------
Inspired by poems” How Cold The Gush"-- 5/25/2013
and “ Seeking Evening's Peace-- 11/17/2013
............
by nette onclaud
.
“Oh
the return of crisp”
so poetically she did
bide
Yesss
hern smile was brilliant
yesss
her chemise was softly
lucent
divulging hern vivid beneath
So I braved the return of
Autumn's cool
and hern breathtaking display
covering her lucid hern
with mine reluctant
cloak
The most dangerous critter is the lowly mosquito
They spread nasty germs round the world, mes amigos
Need to squish them flat
With a swat and a splat
Watch for blood and guts all over your chemise-o
© Jack Ellison 2015
The moon was peeking through the naked trees
The breeze that blew that day had gone to bed
A lonely nightingale perched overhead
Harassed the silence with his sad reprise
The creaking porch swing's old familiar tune
No fitting lyrics could I ever write
To my sweet love on this warm firefly night
The melancholic song I'd never croon
Ten trillion stars, a shimmering chemise
Which cloaked the sky in sparkles green and red
Connected by the rays of golden thread
How could one tire, admiring nights like these?
Upon magnolia trees, blossoms were strewn
The nightingale heard her call and took flight
I might sit here until the morning light
Like days of old, these nights would make us swoon
Wonder if everyone looks as goofy as me
When I open my yap and about to sneeze
Till a bug does invade
In my throat it does stay
Noticed it was wearing a pink chemise
© Jack Ellison 2015
Billowing nimbus writhe in charcoal sky,
zephyr winds whisk waves over briny seas.
I watch, observing clouds hastening by
on showery Summer days such as these,
as crystal raindrops soak my thin chemise.
I seek shelter 'neath a swaying date palm,
my wet hair; cobras, dancing in the breeze.
Then the rain abated; the sea grew calm,
sweet petrichor rising, its scent a soothing balm.
SUMMER RAIN STORM(2) Spencerian Stanza Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Dale Gregory Cozart
n/a in contest judged 7/9/18
Submitted to poem na'd in a July contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart a.k.a broken wings
ABABBCBCC checked with rhymezone and how many syllables
6/15/18
When limbs of Montmartre tint the glow
chemise de nuit falls to the ground,
belle de jour, come moan a pale sound
through alleys winding lamp light’s flow.
Her fine heels toss on follies’ show
she, au naturel , caprice bound ;
taunting stars to rouse below.
Uphill, this mistress wraps fired lips
fleeting sighs mixing red-hot drips,
amidst night bistros’ fragrant plight
where rows of faces wet love’s sips.
Then like a dream, her bedgown flips
denying passion, oh one last bite.
©french sonnet/personification
*Montmartre—famous Paris hill where art,
music, romantic atmosphere, and bohemian
culture thrive despite its religious strains.
*belle de jour--- beautiful lady
*au naturel--- in a natural state, also, nude
*chemise de nuit--- nightdress
. …. .
by nette onclaud
for Cyndi Mac Millan’s Un, Deux, Trois contest
31 may 12