Best Done Up Poems
There’s a party tonight so I bouffe up my hair
Pamper and powder my sweet derrière,
Arrive at the door, all done up to impress.....
Oh man, I forgot! Invite said “fancy dress”!
Pete and Sue are here, seems their theme’s ‘Tarts and Vicars’,
Sue’s skirt’s microscopic! Look at her tiny knickers!
Pete’s in a nun’s habit; the image is scary,
I’ve not seen a nun with a chin that’s THAT hairy!
And there’s Spider-Man! (although I’m perfectly certain,
His cape is made out of his living room curtain),
His curve-hugging costume’s quite “cosy” in size,
I think our friend Spidey gobbled too many flies!
In the corner, a lady has come as Snow White,
Gee, her bosoms are out there, her corset’s so tight,
They look like two bald heads squeezed into a sack,
Glad my hubby’s not here - he’d have a heart attack!
In the hallway, a robot is looking well-oiled -
Her costume’s made out of three rolls of tin foil,
She looks more like a turkey at Christmas, so later,
I really hope no one is tempted to baste her!
By the buffet, Fred Flintstone is looking contrite,
I think he and Wilma are having a fight,
Behaving all “caveman” has got Fred in trouble -
He showed his big man-club to poor Betty Rubble!
There’s a massive man-baby dressed just in a nappy,
The “milk” in his bottle has made him quite happy,
He’s shaking his tooshie and sucking his dummy,
And asking a lady, “can I call you Mummy?”
On the sofa is Princess Fiona from Shrek,
Blimey, Count Dracula’s nibbling her neck,
I avert my eyes to avoid his rising passion,
In walks his wife, and his face turns quite ashen.
His irate wife’s dressed up as pop singer Cher,
In her see through outfit she looks almost bare,
Then she lays into Drac just like Rocky Balboa -
She’s drunk as I skunk, I’m relieved I don’t know her!
Suddenly, Batman bursts through the door,
In his skintight costume - my jaw hits the floor!
He’s so muscular - bulges in all the right places,
If I play my cards right, could be me he embraces!
Well sadly I haven’t a costume of course,
Til I spot a young chappie dressed up as a horse,
I leap on his back - I’m a great improviser -
Strip off and shout “Hey I’m Lady Godiva!”
Collaboration between Jan Allison and the amazing Nina Parmenter
3/17/18
Categories:
done up, celebration, clothes, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
It was the last year of high school and there was a lack of beaux,
But then I got an invite. Whew, that was close!
So now the Prom was coming and I was going to go!
Mom gassed up for the city, headed out with me in tow,
Big stores all hunched together on a tall and scary street,
One dress along a rack with just repeat, repeat, repeat.
But Mom found a creation in an entirely different place,
Moulded tulle and satin, fairy dust and moonlit lace!
I thought she was kidding though the thing was just my size.
I was worried; fairy tales don't often turn out to be wise.
And the price tag is ridiculous! I said Mom take a look!
She plunked it down determinedly, tore a check out of the book.
That left a lot for me to do. My looks are commonplace.
New makeup and new lipstick; how about new face?
Silken shoes, a tiny purse, it's a lot of stress
Just trying to live up to this fantastic dress!
Rhinestone droplets dangle dangerous from my ear,
My long hair piled up high. How much taller I appear!
Prom night came...Poor Tommy! I was done up to impress.
My hair swept up, my makeup on, long earrings and the Dress!
He stood there in the doorway, uncertain in his tux,
Black tie, stiff shirt; this is getting all too much!
The corsage he held between us was carnations glowing red.
He looked up cautiously and ventured; "Is that you, Bo?" he said.
Categories:
done up, 12th grade, dance, high
Form:
Couplet
One night while I was sleeping
The bed began to shake
I knew right then without a doubt
That I was wide awake
Here they come once again
To take me for a ride
I saw their flying saucer
It was much too late to hide
So I put on my old blue jeans
And headed for the door
When I saw this giant beam of light
That sucked me off the floor
I knew exactly what they wanted
And no they didn't use a probe
They didn't suck my brains out
Or even ask me to disrobe
They were looking for a hillbilly
To teach them a thing or two
Like how to skin a possum
And how to make rattlesnake stew
Them aliens were some friendly folk
They said they liked the way I talked
They told me that was the reason
That I was the one they stalked
They asked me about beef jerky
And how to tan a hide
I showed them my old coon dog
As they watched me beam with pride
They said they really liked my truck
And wanted to take it for a spin
So I stuck that thing in four-wheel drive
And you should have seen them grin
When the night was finally over
I thought I heard them say
We'll be coming back real soon
As I watched them fly away
I only had one problem
As I sat there on the ground
Them aliens done up and stole
My very best blue tick hound
Categories:
done up, funnyme, night, old, blue,
Form:
Rhyme
Twas winter ninety-seven, all around the town
Houses lit up magically, parties all around.
Boyfriend says, come with me, to works Christmas dinner,
Dress up chic and sexy, looking like a winner.
Hair all done up, makeup on, gown that fits just right
We’ll impress his colleagues, I was such a pretty sight.
Ushered to our table, we sat with others there
Such a lovely evening, a truly posh affair.
Delicious food, friends were made, laughter filled the air,
A real nice Christmas party, memories to share.
Then came all the speeches, boring us all to death,
The best part was the here here’s, sniffing wines sweet breath.
Finally was time to dance, music filled the night,
Dancing in my ball gown which now was fitting tight.
Time and time we danced that night, in each other’s arms,
Him with me and me with him, showing off our charms.
Suddenly I laughed so hard, teeth went flying out,
Slide across the dance floor, feet pushing them about.
In a flash down on my knees, scurrying about,
Found the little suckers, and popped them in my mouth.
At the time I hoped and prayed nobody had seen,
When I popped them in my mouth, and where they had been.
Looking back, now I laugh, thinking it was funny,
I’m happy now my mouth can say “C’est la vie.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.26.2014
For Judy Konos Contest:
C’est la vie
1st
Categories:
done up, celebration, christmas, dance, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
His interest awakens,
as he laid eyes on a young maiden
sitting there alone.
How lovely she is, graceful
and beautiful.
Her auburn hair done up in a thick braid,
crowning her head with small stray
tendrils, curling about her fair heart shape ethereal face,
above a long neck, and delicate shoulders it graced.
For a brief moment, his gaze
locked with her hazel gold eyes, amazed
and in thoughts of sweet illusion of having her near.
Wanting to kiss her long and sweetly, whisper
you are mine forever in her ear.
8/3/2017
Categories:
done up, longing, love,
Form:
Free verse
a young girl,
hair done up in braids.
I see a smile that could stop traffic on the streets.
I see her as the sun that shines
behind the grey clouds on the horizion
of poverty and sorrow.
The malicious streets that she walks upon.
The streets she splashes in the puddles
and skips down humming a favorite tune.
I see her sitting by the ocean playing with a doll,
A doll woven by sweat and tears.
Because she knew she didn't want it.
A doll obtained by trudging through mud.
Invisible mud that only she can feel.
And the mud makers.
Otherwise it's her secret.
And it's the doll that paints this whole picture
And masks the dirt
For her own eyes.
And she knew. The doll would soon grow.
Visibility of its existence wouldn't be masked anymore.
By the brightness of the sun.
Her self create sun.
And she will be hated for it.
But - Beyond the doll in her hand
The girl is full of pain - but still
full of passion and life.
Amongst all the chaos in her world,
she still smiles as bright as the moon,
as glistening as the starry sky.
But there wass one thing I knew about her,
She was like the moon-
part of her was always hidden,
A part of her I would never understand,
she would never allow
anybody
past certain walls.
And for such a young girl
I never knew why.
But as time wore on my heart,
I learnt to understand.
The part of her she kept away from others -
was the part that kept her glowing.
Glowing through all the darkness in the world which she lived.
The only part she had left
Categories:
done up, child, dark, emotions, heart,
Form:
Free verse
Hmm...What Discursive Poetic Theme Shall I Write About...
Today (a rather brisk, chilly,
and otherwise sat
tiss factory twirly delightful
December 18th, 2018) matte
her of fact quite
refreshing noontime, while this fat
tend plot of Earthen surveyed terrain
situated over scat
herd modest suburban tract,
(actually yours truly some watt
urbanely sprawled out) at
Latitude: 40.2538 Longitude: 75.4590,
where I sit pat
and think to write
about some reading material flat
touring my "FAKE" status
as king of agitprop for chat
hurrying class gussied up with
artistically crafted rat
tilly done up snazzy razz mutt tazz
(approved by Willard), this expat
lapsed Peterson harried tailored script,
asper previous peculiar
swiftly styled idée fixe
literary unnecessary, rat
tickly tawdry superfluity)
interspersed with dollops of splat
hard logophile, nonetheless gentle
on the eyes, yet feeling totally flat
and devoid of meaning, and quite
convincingly desperate idea this pratt
tilling far amore in the dell doth
expatiate, expound expressively, gnat
cheerily witty, (i.e. hint- please
pretend these humph fat
tickle lee meandering, rambling,
and warbling words) taxing
on mental faculty as bat
tan gruelling death march
physically, when circa
April 1942 Japanese forced
76,000 captured Filipinos,
and Americans Allied
soldiers to march about 80 miles across
Bataan Peninsula (province
in Philippines), where they died
enroute to...during World War II
on island of Luzon, espied
as a spiritual sanctuary hosted
by a knowledgeable tour guide
named Matthew Scott hood dons
genuine (musty smelling)
Tory wig to hide
as an alien alias (from the outer limits
of the twilight zone) incognito
even to himself, and especially the bride
of Frankenstein, who evinces a strong crush
toward said nondescript gentrified
vested gentry groundless thinker with pride
though, dirt poor (at least on the surface),
but deep down rich with
Schwenksville well watered
history harkening back to 1684,
when hoodwinked, jilted and lied
Lenni-Lenape Indians got fleeced
then taken for a ride
this land ceded to (stolen from) William Penn
nestled along the Perkiomen Creek.
Categories:
done up, abuse, allusion, america, analogy,
Form:
Bio
Dog Master
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
Fifty dogs all different in size and shape
Impossible to tell the type of breed, mate
All the dogs have a discriptive and unique name
Irene, knows them all, for none are the same
…
Only Irene can handle and work this team of dogs
They trust and respect her in the paddock, bush and bogs
Their home in the bush a stone throw from the house
Made of tin, steel and hollow logs free of louse
…
Heading, gathering or pushing in the paddocks
In the yard, on the sheep's back, the dogs are no hicks
Commands yelled out amid the noisy barking
The dog master Irene gets the job done, she is king
…
The hounds on the hill get excited and start baying
The rousers stretch their leads in the air they spring
The horse all saddled, the men go forth with guns
Time for a Kangaroo hunt down by the creek run
…
The dogs search for sheep on the plains and hills
They gather, they drive never fearing the terrain or spills
In weather of heat, snow, cold winds or driving rain
They push the mob towards their master, Irene
…
The sheep yard-ed the dogs job is done
Head for home, horse, rider and dogs as one
All the dogs patted when the chains done up
Given a feed of kangaroo and water to warm-up
…
Snug in their kennels, worn out and asleep
Oblivious to the howling wind, cold and sleet
The dogs resting for their work is never done
As their master, Irene heads home on the run
Categories:
done up, dog, weather,
Form:
Rhyme
I lay on the bed puffing and panting
Couldn’t get comfortable no matter how hard I tried
I twisted and turned, oh how my stomach ached
When will this pain be over - I can hardly take any more
With one last push ……
I got the zipper of my new jeans done up!
Brevity Contest – Sponsor Casarah Nance
07~07~15
Categories:
done up, body, humorous,
Form:
Light Verse
It was six days past the seventh
I was on the road again
Putting distance in the rear
Of the places I had been
Left that girl in Amarillo
The one in those nice blue jeans
Headed for San Francisco
In that city filled with drag queens
It’s been three years since I’ve seen home
Guess I’d better retrace and head on out
Mama is probably still praying
You can bet on that no doubt
After all that time chasing rainbows
And all that time wasting space
I’m right back where I started
Boy I still love this old home place
Found a different crowd down at Floppy’s
But still sipping on wicked brew
Still playing eight-ball
And eating up that bar-b-que
The mayor’s not the same
Seems everything’s changed round here
Guess I’ll join this different crowd
And have another cold beer
I see all those girls I dated
Done up and got themselves married off
Bankers, realtors and a mayor’s son
Except for Sarah who landed one of the cloth
Things aren’t the same as I left them
Time stands still for no one
So I’ll say good bye again to mama
And get this rig on a western run
I’m pulling into Waco
Dog tired with eyes are turning red
I’m signing off for the evening
And getting myself ready for bed
Categories:
done up, travel, , western,
Form:
Free verse
Well here's another story
That I'd really like to share
It's about the first invention
Of a thing called underwear
Invented by one of my kinfolks
A man that the bible calls Adam
It caught on pretty quickly too
Cause pert near everybody had'em
I'll bet you didn't know it
But Adam was a hillbilly too
You don't have to be a mountain man
To be country thru and thru
Now the first pair he ever wore
Was a leaf called Fruit of the gloom
But somebody done up and stole his patent
You know, Fruit of the loom
Now Adams wife Eve was beautiful
In her fig leaf lingerie
Her Fredricks of Eden was top of the line
But expensive needless to say
Well times has changed since Adam's day
So we moved up to tater sacks
It gave us more of a sophisticated feel
That a fig leaf always lacks
Now I told this story so everybody knows
Don't listen to any other rumors
So the next time you shop for underwear
You'll remember those hillbilly bloomers
Categories:
done up, funnyfruit,
Form:
Rhyme
Always young at heart and old in soul
never at ease in the linked up, stuck-up clichés
of childhood or the bizarre unfriendly world of adulthood,
I always roared…at five my boyfriend Dave was four.
He was a good kisser too.
Just about the only kisses I got [except from mom] till I was sixteen,
at which point a charming fifteen year old
and Irishman [black Irish rosy red cheeked
dancing black eyes and a curl which feel into them]
became my beau and to my junior prom as a sophomore
he went, returned the favor, he did, the next year.
I went as a senior to his Junior prom,
hair all done up like Olive Oil. “God it looked awful!”
My Senior prom, he was my Napoleon,
again and I in empire white his Josephine
[no we weren’t crowned King and Queen].
College saw me behind the eight ball again
With all my lovely new friends “hookers?”
[‘Well, Ma said!!! If you did that you were…]
Since I wouldn’t I had a slew of BOY friends
[Sometimes three would drop in on the same night
ahhhhhh the power of abstinence!]
Sophmore year I found true love, it almost killed me.
And yes Adonis was a freshman, an Italian dream
with a wrestlers Greco-roman body…lasted three years.
And, in walked the next Italian lovers [three years younger]
A few years latter we were married. Thirty years passed
Closeted cloistered years, over protected, smothered years
and with freedom came new loves, all younger than me.
Categories:
done up, love
Form:
Free verse
Thought about over thirty years of Easter eggs
done up in a thousand different ways.
Finding late in the evening that the dregs
of eggs were spoiled and quickly to Safeway
to buy a few dozens to boil and dry,
then wax and dip and batik and paste
and make a mess, oops!, forgot to fix dye,
run to get some vinegar, have to waste
a few experiments that went awry,
oh well, we will just have to eat them with
some salt and pepper, then with quiet sly
steps throughout the house in greatest mirth,
in semi darkness hide the little oval
messages of love to be found by all.
Categories:
done up, appreciation,
Form:
Sonnet
Happy Birthday Hayley
I write this poem for you
due to the fact that i cant be with you today
i hope that everything is ok
I bet you look pretty
All done up too the nines
I hope your family are there
And that you have a good time
I hope the flowers and card
Reach you in time
And i will owe you a birthday kiss
Just this one time
So here is to a woman so pretty and fair
With bright blue eyes and fiery red hair
Your only 25 still so young and sweet
Hope you enjoy your Birthday treat
Categories:
done up, anniversary, love, birthday, birthday,
Form:
Mr Wiz, Munchkin Land
Be so kind to lend a hand...
Cartwheeling cottage? how daft is that
Landed quite safely, all level and flat
Some midget fellow said, who else heard that
I think ‘Wicked Westie’ might just have gone splat
Tin men and lions and blokes full of straw
Red shoes and rainbows and bricks on the floor
Witches determined to lay down the law
Little dog yapping and blue birds galore
Lion so scared he’s effectively tame
Geezer wants ticker inside his tin frame
The chap with a head full of straw wants a brain
Dorothy wants to go home... shame
Old men and wizards, one and the same
Thinks Dottie’s plight is a bit of a game
hidden away in a small secret room
Tells her, ‘Go forth and fetch me a broom’
But Dot knows a half decent witch from up north
This tale’s full of witches and she’s third or fourth
With witches from east and west done up like kippers
The North witch gives Dottie the west witch’s slippers
Dimwit companions, each a good fellow
Prancing about on a road painted yellow
Keep Dottie safe from that nasty grim reaper
Present to the wizard the requisite sweeper
And lo, he's impressed and he loudly applauds her
But this dodgy wizard’s a bit of a fraudster
Spouts loads of stuff about going home soon
But then he clears off in his hot air balloon
The lion got brave and the scarecrow got clever
The tin man’s new heart might well beat forever
Ain’t no pleasing Dottie, she can’t go home, never
Them slippers, said Northy, click em together
So she clicked them together, those slippers in red
There’s no place like home she repeatedly said
Sounds like she might have been right off her head
But then she wakes up and shes home in her bed
And so, Mr Wiz, this may be remiss
But what do you think...
Could you film this?
16 November 2018
Categories:
done up, dream, fantasy, film,
Form:
Rhyme