Best Dressed To The Nines Poems | Poetry

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MIDNIGHT ROMANCE

We first met at the Obsidian Bar, on a night that I will never forget. She’s dressed to the nines; like a movie star in charcoal satin and sable georgette. I catch the scent of ashes of roses, as wisps of smoke drift from bright crimson lips. Like a Vogue model, she sits and poses, a tall glass of absinthe she gently sips. With cerulean eyes, which shine so bright, ivory skin like a porcelain doll. She caught my eye; it is love at first sight her captivating beauty does enthral. She’s on her own, so I ask her to dance, New Year bells ring, heralding our romance Won in Midnight Romance Contest Sponsored by Dale Gregory Cozart 10 syllables per line checked with how many syllables words to be used: obsidian, charcoal, sable, absinthe, cerulean, ashes of roses, porcelain, ivory, smoke, crimson 10-14-17


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017


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A Debutante's Ball To Remember

A Debutante’s Ball to Remember
In the autumn of my life, oft have I recalled that superb summer night, when I finally experienced my long-awaited heart’s delight. Family and close friends were all ready for my entry into society, to celebrate it with a grand debutante’s ball filled with gaiety.
In a dreamlike state, I felt like a princess with a golden crown, making my grand entrance wearing a champagne chiffon gown. With matching gloves, and a pair of satin shoes on my tiny feet, my auburn hair was adorned with butterflies and posies sweet.
The ballroom was magically transformed with gas lights all aglow, and a glittering chandelier reflected on a highly polished mahogany floor. As the orchestra played, my body and soul were enraptured and consumed by its rendition of Ravel’s enthralling “La Valse” which pervaded the room.
Elegant ladies were all dressed to the nines in exquisite pastel gowns of winter white, baby blue, powder pink, pale peach and beautiful browns. In tacit competition to out-best each other, social charms were well-honed, as they daintily fanned themselves and gossiped animatedly in hushed tones.
Refined gentlemen in their finely-tailored tails navigated the room to mingle, keeping an eye out for eligible heiresses beautiful, graceful, and single. Wafts of mild masculine colognes came from discretely dabbed faces and hair; while the fresh feminine floral scent of French perfumes permeated the air.
Armed with a full dance card, I waltzed the night away with ardent admirers, curtsying and coquettishly smiling, moving on to more exciting suitors. My enchanting evening climaxed with Strauss’s “Vienna Waltz” filling the hall. Oh, what a tale I will have to tell as my granddaughter prepares for her first ball!
11-21-2014 Contest: Your Favourite Old Poem (06-08-2015) Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton Placement: 1st Contest: Ballroom Delights (12-16-2014) Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst Placement: 2nd


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014


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The Party

                                                         
The host was the most, an elegant man,
Who throws great parties like no one else can.
All were dressed to the nines for a special affair,
While men peeked at bosoms and tried not to stare.

The gathering together of local folks,
Were sitting and telling some witty jokes;
While ladies who came dressed in the latest style,
Vied with each other for a gentleman’s smile.

Candles were lit, the music played low,
The table was set in perfection’s glow;
With goblets of wine and bone china plates,
That defined the mind with earnest debates.

The fragrance of food that smelled so fine,
Was delivered with bottles of sweet scented wine;
And great steaming bowls of chicken soup,
Were served in style with a sterling silver scoop.

Roast beef with gravy was served with care,
With mashed potatoes and all the fanfare.
There were squash, carrots and dishes of beans,
And bowls of crisp chopped salad greens.

There was wine to sip and coffee to drink,
There was so much to eat, no one could think;
There was cake to splurge and gin to purge,
And all who ate quickly lost the urge.

The hours ticked by with buttons undone,
That belied the gourmet from having fun;
 For lessons they learned were simple and few,
A waist filled with haste is hard to undo.


 






.


Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2011


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HANDS - Love Series 1

You cannot imagine how deeply miss’d
That gentle smile and your tender kiss
Are to my restless soul. But respite found
It’s way to my longing as a snippet
Dream Sprite kissed me with vision, vignette
Tantalizing and tempting.  We walked
Hand in hand, dressed to the nines. Unknown
Destination, but in your company,
Who cares? It was you! It was us! In love!
But, did our hands converse! Eloquently!
Warmth is the passion of two hearts longing
To be one. Heartbeat is the cadence Love
Needs to dance. Softness the plea, “Protect Me!”
Firmness, the Assurance, “I Will Be Here!”


Copyright © David Palmer | Year Posted 2016


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Clueless Job Applicant

You’ll never guess whom the cat drug in; have a day where you just couldn’t win?
He came strutting in, smacking his gum loud, dressed to the nines Goth Punk style.
Tats trailed down his left arm, with my notice, he said, saving up for the other arm.
When ask about drugs, his answer to me was: “Yes, I’ll share” most invitingly…

Metal adornments on ears, nose, and lips, didn’t want to know, the all of it, at this.
As I noticed, he smiled most cattily, asking: ‘Want to see where else they might be?’ 
Hair a Mohawk with a trail down his back, colors of the rainbow, left nothing to lack.
Steel studs on a black leather butt, said, ‘Bite Me!’ with each and every staged strut.

What are you kidding?… Do my eyes me deceive, or did he just make a pass, at ME?
No Way! I’d rather drop kick him from my office fast, didn't he have any real class?
The application, a Sales Manager Job. Who would try to send me over the deep end?
Bet it had been a practical joke, beginning to end, so I simply held on, my friend.

He must've read my face, forhe smirked, I continued to ask for his list of experience.
His experience was none, but he said he managed his I-tune collection, very well.
Of course, he was the Leader of his ‘Chat Room’. I wondered, ‘Who could tell?’ GEE!
Also an impressive set up on his Facebook page, for his innumerable video games.

I ask how he was qualified for ANY job? Said, Dad ‘THE CEO’ wanted him employed.
I verified this with a call, was told not to be too Harsh, he had Potential, after all...
Ask what job he wanted to give his son? ‘Let him chose himself’, came the real clue!
Ask him, what job he really wanted to do, ‘VP in charge of Recreation’ was imbued.

Said he'd check out all the great places, in his Dad’s fancy Porche. Honestly True!
I kid you not! And he wanted his girlfriend, made into his secretary, Yah! No Doubt!
Believe it or not, he got all he thought he was due. All approved by the CEO’s! True!
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better… I began to really reconsider…

Really, who had been clueless… It hadn’t been him!… Which left me in a dither…
Knowing I just couldn’t win!  I’d be glad when this day was finally, truly, done… 
The kid had probably thought this a great joke on me from beginning to the end!
My perfect job, had just come undone! Apparently, being in HR isn’t always fun! 

My college degree, that took so much sacrifice, no longer sparkled, so much to me.
Boy did I now WISH, I was a CEO’s SON! As I simply got all the paper work done. 
Later, I saw the family portrait on the CEO’s desk. Lucky me! One down!… 
Only eight more to go!

Carol Eastman and Hubby


Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013


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LINES

LINES

We LINE up in traffic, or clear out the door, 
And there are BEELINES we make, to the seashore.
Get mad and we're "DRAWING A LINE IN THE SAND," 
He USES A LINE when he asks for her hand.

You're in A LINE OF WORK, it's where you can shine:
LINEBACKERS, LINE EDITORS, and TECHIES ONLINE.
You're in the CHORUS of a big Broadway play, 
Or dancing in LINES with the CORPS DE BALLET.
  
I'll "DROP YOU A LINE," when you're on vacation, 
Get there by CRUISE LINE to your destination.
Fly on an AIRLINE, but you cannot fly straight,
In crossing a BORDERLINE, COASTLINE, or State.  

In HEADLINES, OUTLINES, or given the GUIDELINES,
We calculate "READING BETWEEN ALL THOSE LINES."
DEADLINES and TIMELINES we must try to meet,
In interviews for FRONTLINE of the man on the street. 

She is dressed to the nines, with the highest HEMLINE, 
And her jeans are drying on a breezy CLOTHESLINE.
The kids throw their sneakers to the TELEPHONE LINES, 
They're outside and swimming, their TAN LINES are signs.

CUT IN THE LINE, CROSS A LINE, this may give you trouble, 
Especially the LINES that are yellow and double. 
You don't want to FLATLINE, when you become very ill, 
But you will, when you see LINES from your itemized bill.

There are the Maths that are used for LINES X, Y, and Z,
And a BASELINE to measure what we're trying to see. 
We may draw PARALLEL LINES with our ruler in place, 
These LINES actually meet when they curve out in space.

Then there's games with LIFELINES, we try not to burn,
There's LINES FROM A SCRIPT that we try hard to learn.
LINES READ in poetry, played in music, sung in song,
It's the memorized beauty of the gifts passed along. 

Whatever THE LINE IS, that we find most adoring,
It's NOT keeping the order we find so abhorring.
We humans are LINEAR in most of our thinking, 
It's the CIRCLES and CURVES that'll drive us to drinking. 

By Edlynn Nau
© February 9, 2016



Copyright © Edlynn Nau | Year Posted 2016


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HOME

 HOME. By Ted Bundy

There is a place not far from here where purple maggots are the size of deer, pink frogs are there wearing bowties  and hats, now put your hands together for the rolling skating rats. Green fluorescent tawny owls are snorkelling in the pool,while a wallaby in swimming trunks tries to play it cool. Its also the island where neon zebras are found,they plug into a capsule buried underground, the lions fish for skunks and illuminous crayfish dress up as monks.  Theres a barrel of laughing monkeys and some gigantic leathery snails, cockroaches modelling footie boots,even anorexic whales. 
Spiders in tracksuits riding pushbikes with ease, with a cross-dressing chipmunk flying high on trapeze. Bristly skinned donkeys snowboard on thin ice, and a 5 headed emu shoots craps and rolls dice. Glance over yonder at the transparent camels, their glass humps are crawling with mice, stare at the turtles dressed to the nines, and here comes a beard complete with head lice. Theres some inbred iguanas,and some lukewarm limey lugworms,  snorting clear cider through straws, gorillas dress as men and theres a psychotic hen, taping rusty razors to her claws. Over at the gym, theres  miss matched mastiffs, squashing each other underfoot, and an armadillo in a pin striped suit is trying to pick up a shot-putt. Hidden amongst the undergrowth you might be lucky enough to see, our south american weasel sloth sucking leather splinters from a tree, and theres no need to stare in awe if you see a tartan wild boar,trying to saw his assistant in half, his illusion tricks are a mystifying mix,  guillotine, two nuns and  a bloody  laugh. Up here on the right is our new Bull arena, the atmospheres heavy, ive never heard it meaner, in runs the first one already *****scared,beaten and blind, running in circles and ****ed out of his mind, the poisoned steely spikes creating pus filled blistered sores, the crowd ****ing love it killing Spanish matadors. A family of minks are enjoying the show, sipping their juice and gin, i especially admire their matching attire, its top of the range human skin. This is a change from the norm, a better way of life, a lot more colour,  and a lot less bleeding strife. Its a paradise for sure, and packed with fun and glee, where a hip hop alley cat, a sabre toothed fruit bat, and a clarinet playing koala, will serve you cake and tea. Yes, this is the place where pink Buffalo roam, Heaven on Earth for them, they call it Home.


Copyright © Ted Bundy | Year Posted 2012


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The Dead Man Whom I Kissed

I am free as a bird
Ready to discover this wondrous world
I am dressed to the nines
Seeking a knight in shining armor

He will be handsome alright
Defending me from life’s lows and sorrows
I shall be his flower, ready to be plucked
Oh my petals shall lust for his kiss

The big city a delight, as I shop all night!
As I gaze upon the handsome men all over
I am hopeful one shall take my hand
So they we might begin a lovers journey

Night time jazz, clubs filled with hazy smoke
Man after man after drink and nothing of substance
What’s a pretty girl to do?
Another night of blackness and no shining black knight

So off I wander to the city park
The lush smell of green filling the air
There is a graveyard up over there
A promenade among the dead

There under the moonlit sky, is an old man
His hair all white, his dress somewhat wrinkled
He seems to star into nothingness
Ah but his eyes are clear blue like the ocean true

I am abashed yet I stare into these crystal blue eyes
Something stirs from within me, yes I see as clear as day
The kindness and compassion within this weathered old man
I lose my breath, this is foolish for I just know somehow, I know I know

I walk up to him, and kiss him on the lips as I should not
This is not me, yet I know this is exactly me, I just know
He looks with sadness, and says simply "I am a dead man, from long ago"
I kiss him once more and say “I will return three days hence and we shall see"

Three days later, like a statue he stands stoically still and almost in fear
I take his hand, and whisper, life is full of miracles
We have no time to lose, I see into your beauty and I see into your pain
Hold me and love me, I am yours completely, in the falling rain




Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014


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LET ME GO

In the midst of whatever has you bound up and under attack
The presence of God can break every chain for the Lord has your back
Be it mental, physical or psychological chains that are holding you down 
The presence of the Lord has the power to lift you up to higher ground
The liberating presence of the Lord God will deliver you and set you free
From whatever has you shackled and girded up like a Christmas turkey
Let me go, set me free, break every chain, free me from my situation
It's time for me to embrace the place of my transformation

Let me go, set me free, break every chain
Of whatever has me stricken, bent over and in pain
Let me go, release me, take away the shame
Let the Holy Spirit bring forth in me some change
It's not enough to just show up in church dressed to the nines
You need to participate in the worship and let God enter your mind
And don't play yourself by thinking the church is more than just a building
As it's the congregation who are the true source
In working, worshipping and witnessing for God
For He is the ultimate life force

Now let the power of worship in you transcend and transform
Let the power of praise in you redeem and reform
And it matters not what is your condition
Allow the Holy Spirit to reposition
And no longer will your condition rule
As you have been spiritually schooled
Now able to get past your circumstances and situations
By embracing the Resurrection power of God in your transformation

Let me go, let me go, free me from my misery
Break every chain Lord God, just set me free
No longer will I internalize or lament woe is me
For I've been transformed by the hand of God for the whole world to see



Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2016


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SPEED DATING - COLLABORATION FOR CONTEST

We met at speed dating and you really caught my eye I thought I’d hit the jackpot, you were such a handsome guy We spent some minutes chatting and you asked me for a date Agreed to meet at Gino’s at a quarter after eight Dressed to the nines and on the corner of the block I saw you’d brought your mother 'Oh boy' that was a shock! We spent the night flirting, like the house was caught on fire Oh Bob I think you’re so darn hot, you fill me with desire I was flattered when you asked me, on a date, that much is true But I really wish you'd had bid your Mum a fond adieu? I think we could get serious; I’d love to see you more I’m pleading with you Bob, just leave your mother at the door! In an ideal world you would be my perfect date But if your mum doesn’t approve our love will have to wait Oh, she seems so darn aggressive in a way I can't believe and the things, she said she'd like to do with me, I can't conceive I hope my Mother doesn't notice all the signs I see the way this little woman throws herself, all over me Well, perhaps bringing Mom, was not such a good idea But how can I take her home, and leave this hottie here Ok, I called a cab to take my mother home So, me and Jan could have a little time here all alone It seems we hit it off, but our time was running out When I heard across the room another man give out a shout As my heart started sinking, I knew that I'd been had When the man came up to me, and said, Hello I'm Her Dad In an ideal world you would be my perfect date But if your dad doesn’t approve our love will have to wait Now Jan’s dad was amazing and such a lovely guy My mother was enchanted his charm didn’t pass her by So I cancelled the taxi and we talked late into the night Mum had a gleam in her eye, she chatted with delight Jan’s dad and my mum left the bar hand in hand Beaming with the biggest grins in the whole of the land Time has passed quickly; the grass didn’t grow under our feet If we hadn’t gone speed dating then our parents wouldn’t meet After a short time dating Bob asked if he could marry me I accepted his proposal and I’m as happy as can be Unbeknownst to us dad proposed on the very same day For Bob’s mum is expecting and has a baby on the way! It is an ideal world and we have found our perfect mate We’re having a joint wedding, our love is down to a speed date Contest: Write me a Duet Sponsor Heather Ober Collaboration by Jan Allison and Jerry T Curtis 28th December 2015


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015


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The Date A collaboration with Jan Allison

This collaboration is with Jan Allison 



We met at speed dating and you really caught my eye 
I thought I’d hit the jackpot, you were such a handsome guy 
We spent some minutes chatting and you asked me for a date 
Agreed to meet at Gino’s at a quarter after eight 
Dressed to the nines and on the corner of the block 
I saw you brought your mother 'Oh boy' that was a shock! 


We spent the night flirting, like the house was caught on fire
Oh Bob I think you’re so darn hot,  you fill me with desire
I was flattered when you asked me, on a date, that much is true
But I really wish you'd had bid your Mum a fond adieu?
I think we could get serious; I’d love to see you more
I’m pleading with you Bob, just leave your mother at the door!

Oh, she seams so darn aggressive in a way I can't believe
and the things, she said she'd like to do with me, I can't conceive
I hope my Mother doesn't notice all the signs I see
the way this little woman throws herself, all over me
Well, perhaps bringing Mom, was not such a good idea
But how can I take her home, and leave this hottie here

Ok, I called a cab and had my mother taken home
So, me and Jan could have a little time here all alone
It seems we hit it off, but our time was running out
When I heard across the room another man give out a shout
As my heart started sinking, I knew that I'd been had
When the man came up to me, and said, Hello I'm Her Dad




Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2015


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smoking

jewelry and make up
give us glamor
cigaretts and smoke
drink and laughter
how distinguished we look 
with ciggy in claws
blowing smoke into faces
waiting for applause
just for effect
you pucker and blow 
and the other half of the smoke
comes out your nose
who care where it goes
in the air or in your clothes
what you smell like 
you may never know
dressed to the nines 
and doing just fine
running out of cigarettes 
the last thing on your mind

(This is where you come in)


Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2013


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To My Love

To whisper these words on valentines 
I wrote this from my purest side 
To the lady whom dressed to the nines 

I did struggle to write these lines 
It would take me on a happy joyride 
To whisper these words on valentines 

I love to watch how the hair shines 
As the sun sends rays from outside   
To the lady whom dressed to the nines 

Pages are made from the fibers of Pines 
Quill weaves as my fingers guide 
To whisper these words on valentines 

Let me buy the richest wines 
Lit up some candles on the bedside 
To the lady whom dressed to the nines 

You are beautiful more than my poem defines 
My inner butterflies have been multiplied 
To whisper these words on valentines 
To the lady whom dressed to the nines 


Copyright © Victor Maasilamani | Year Posted 2016


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Unforgettable

I'm dressed  to the nines, do I look fine, Defiantly not demure.
I see you on the dance floor a picture glamour, in fact  to die for,
I'm mesmerised as you dance by, a portrait of lissome grace, 
just one of your smiles could cure all the worlds wiles, a panacea for the human race. 
The mellifluous sound in the background makes me want to get on that dance floor  
As I join the dance floor and for sure Im the cynosure of the rooms attention.
I ask to dance, and you say yes ,that's me ineffable for the rest of the night.
You're not an ingénue girl, as you send me wild with the moves of a temptress
That dance will last in sempiternal, your the prettiest I have ever seen
The disco lights reflect of that dress and the sequins shine with a chatoyant lustre 
Then you turn round, and without a sound you disappear into the night .


 the story of my life lol 


Copyright © stephen pennell | Year Posted 2016


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Next Time, Get the Details

His sister was getting married.
We decided that we should go.
I hadn't met his family yet
but I heard they could put on a show.

We checked our bags at the airport,
flew overnight to get there.
Of course our luggage took a different flight
off to God-knows-where.

So we dropped a large wad of cash
at some trendy local boutique.
There I picked out a stunning outfit,
something I found unique.

Off to the wedding in a rush,
there was no way we were getting there late.
We arrived at his parents home
looking like each other's prom date.

His mother smiled uncertainly
as she ushered us inside.
Sitting at the kitchen table
in jeans and boots was the bride.

Someone neglected to tell us
this was a casual, casual affair
and while I was dressed to the nines
the bride had pigtails in her hair.

The backyard was a sea of denim
and cowboy hats and boots.
I, in my silk and hubby in his tux,
when we walked out received some hoots.

It didn't look like a wedding venue,
it looked more like a rodeo.
I could have died of embarrassment
when I realized ... we were the show.


Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2012


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Searching For Rella


It was just another Saturday night,
wasn't with nobody
My pockets were full
and my heart was on call
I was dressed to the nines,
and my hair was laid just fine
when I stepped into the 
Coats-For-Kids charity ball
I made the usual walk through,
did the casual mingle
Bumping elbows with the upper crust crew,
it was a nice mix of married and single
All the heavy hitters were just rolling in,
as I gave a holla to a couple of close friends
Started getting a good vibe when I saw
the deejay who was spinning here
He was the same one who was thumping the tunes
at my baby sister's wedding last year
It was about a quarter past ten,
when I saw a black limo carriage cruise in
And when the chauffeur opened the door,
out stepped a vision of beauty I never seen before:
Gold dress
Emerald low-cut heels
I said to myself ... is this fairy tale for real
Asymmetrical sculpted hair
Chocolate pearl-shaped eyes
She illuminated the place like a tropical sunrise
I followed her everywhere as she floated through the crowd
being ogled and cat-called
Her path parted a sea of whispers of ooh and aahs
Then she suddenly stopped,
and without turning, held out her hand
Beckoning me to come dance
I danced with a princess under crystal chandelier light,
we chatted and laughed until nearly midnight
We talked of romantic things; 
misty meadows and enchanting moon beams,
aromatic glades and sipping lemonade in balmy shade
We talked of irreverent things; 
favorite TV shows and watching drifting snow blow,
performance art critiques and specialty items at small boutiques
We talked of cerebral things; 
the longevity of coniferous trees, the hive hierarchy of the bees,
the societal impact of big pharma, the reciprocity of karma
But of ourselves, we only knew each other's first name
With unspoken mutual consent, 
we embraced, with playfulness, the mystery of the courtship game
Then, as the clock began to midnight chime,
she gasped and intoned she was out of time
And just as quickly as we met,
she departed in haste with no decorum or grace
As the black limo streaked away,
in my stunned silence, I happened to look down
and was shocked at what lay on the floor ---
one emerald shoe
Now what was I to do?
The only thing about her I knew,
was that her name was Rella
I searched everywhere for a year,
was just a sad, crestfallen fella
At the charity ball the following year,
she didn't come and no one knew who she was
Then a short while after that ... I gave up looking
It was almost two years later, on a clear spring day,
I went window shopping at a mall
Saw a set of glasses that came with a smile,
I saw again that beautiful belle of the ball
I told her that I had been searching for her,
and that I had her emerald shoe
She said: while you were out there looking for me,
I was always praying and waiting for you


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016


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Nine

 Nine,  the number of innings in a baseball game
If you're on cloud nine,  it's happiness you proclaim
Everything included means you want the whole nine yards

Nine judges on the supreme court act like retards
In nine months a baby emerges from the womb
A cat has nine lives is what we assume

If you're dressed to the nines, then  you're fine
 A standard work day will usually begin at nine
All entries in this contest must have nine lines



Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2013


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Waiting Room-A Last Line Prompt

I walked in and was hit by the familiar smell of fear and disinfectant 
then wrapped my sweater tighter from the cold and discomfort. 
I glanced fleetingly into desperate, tearful eyes
bruised egos, painful cries and an accumulated knowledge of urgency. 
The florescent lighting was a hallelujah on the empty seat next to a man
whose head was down, chin wrapped in collared flaps of his plaid shirt
and a profile at least seventy years old undoubtedly full of experience. 
I poured two styrofoam cups of bold brew, black, and took it back
handed him one low enough to grab with his stressed pressed fingers. 
He gave me a nod, took a sip, and that's how it started. 
He was a German immigrant without a home. 
He had traveled from Denmark, to France, to Rome. 
He told me how he fell in love with the madness on the riverbanks,
picked perfect, round apples from free orchards, watched the sunset
put an orange glaze over the valleys of flowers so sweet you could almost taste 
and fought mobsters in allies with a knife no larger than a grass blade. 
He'd always attend the greatest balls in the greatest halls 
and even learned how to tango, jitterbug and dance the waltz. 
He told me about the first time he feasted on imported catfish
with bulks of bread, cheeses, and fine wines with cigars
assuredly dipped in glass halos and how he was 
"Dressed to the nines!"
As soon as he lost his money and had failing health
he felt like a brown paper sack or a puppet
with anti-venom in a flask and no wealth to pull off
the target of his bull's eye view ripped from it's thumb tack
extinquishing the dark where love breeds and beams
of blue waves reflected heavy denim stapled to lazy eyelids
that hummed the song of faded days
with a blank piece of paper and an empty pen.
That's when I said to him
"When the next crusade comes you must scrape 
at the wood with the sun, even with dainty fingers, my friend. "
His name was then called by a nurse in the corridor 
he stood in loose jeans held by a belt that had not been seen
by the tailor of a good, caregiving woman in many years.
His soft, leathered hands, worn in, took mine 
placed in them his cup and said,
"It's sad to me that it takes a threat to survival 
to believe life is worth living because of an emergency. 
Sometimes you have to find something worth the wait.
By the way, this was the worst drink I've ever had, 
but the best I've ever been and I'm glad I was here
instead of drinking coffee in the cafes of Berlin."


Copyright © Mindy Clay | Year Posted 2016


Details | Dressed To The Nines Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Whistles n' Bells

Wasting time, smoking cigarettes. Cigarettes
All is fine, she's got no regrets. No regrets
Everyone seems to be mad
Dressed to the nines, heart shaped lips, no-one to kiss
Whistles n bells, n' no more than this, more than this
Emptiness sells, blinking lights

Listen, I'm a natural, feel like an animal in a zoo
Next to impossible, almost too beautiful to be true
'til it happens to you

Lately, I've been eating brown leaves, morning star
He's all I need, watching over me, over me
Everyone seems to be mad
Wishin' I knew what the matter was, matter was
You cannot tell what knowing does, knowing does
Whistles n' bells, blinking lights

Maybe I'm an accident, passersby are standing around
One forgotten elephant the circus has long left town
And I'm still around

Listen to the fork-tongued or the sweet song mockingbird
All you want is your fun, come the dawn y'seem so absurd
Hey, have you not heard?

Everyone seems to be mad
Whistles n' bells, blinking lights. Blinking lights


Copyright © Rightly Jennings | Year Posted 2015


Details | Dressed To The Nines Poem | Create an image from this poem.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I saw her just yesterday, the paragon
Of all that a woman could be.  Tall and tan,
Proud and proper, short hair, not butch,
A beautiful woman dressed to the nines,
Dripping confidence like an empress.   
A lessor man would have ran and hid 
For surely this was a lady 
And would have no need for a man.

I offered a sincere compliment
Fully expecting an icy reply 
If afforded one at all.  For my trouble, 
Her face lit up like a prom queen, 
Flashing me a smile that warmed my soul.  
Gracious and appreciative, I saw this woman anew.  
She was beautiful inside
And could not hide it on her countenance.  
I could hold a door for this lady as she understands 
That a simple act of respect cannot make her less, 
Any more than her grace makes me less than I am.  

Oh modern woman, is respect what you want?  
Don’t demand it, Command it!  
This is not a zero-sum game, Ladies!  
You cannot, No, must not trade your feminity,
The best of your womanhood, for your worthy goals.  

You can be beautiful without being synthetic;
Demure without being the prude;
Strong without being brusque;
Accept help without becoming dependent;
Be natural but not a sloven; 
Flirtacious without being easy. 
Confident but not cocky; 

You can melt men like butter.
You hold all the cards!
  
Now, let’s get you that respect! 


Copyright © Dean Wood | Year Posted 2017


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Party Time

it had promised to be such a wonderful night,
I was dressed to the nines and I hoped that I might 
celebrate the event without getting too drunk;
but it all fell apart ‘ere the first drink was sunk

just one sip – but my inner man told me to stop  
‘cos it looked like a rainbow from bottom to top;
what I hoped was a beer was none of the kind
it was twelve separate shots - man I must have been blind

I was urged to drink up as my friends laughed along,
but pretty soon I knew that something was wrong;
as the room began spinning, my brain then and there
very quickly decided I needed some air

as I staggered outside with my mind fading fast 
both my watches told me that ten minutes had passed;
I tried to stand straight but my knees wouldn’t hold
and I crashed to the ground, now completely out cold

And the next thing I knew was the wind in my hair
and where were my shoes? They were my favourite pair!
There was laughter and honking around me, but why?
I was naked apart from my socks and my tie …

Far from shooting the breeze - not quite cutting a rug 
I was strapped to the front of a Volkswagen bug;
with my hands and feet tied to the bonnet and doors
being driven round town by my subjugators …


Copyright © Bill Lindsay | Year Posted 2016


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Lost Time


Tick tock, tick tock said the weary clock,
Her arms are never still;
They keep on going round and round,
They still have time to kill.

The hours are few yet time gets lost,
As she goes her lonesome way;
Dressed to the nines she rings her chimes,
Never to count a spendthrift day.

Yet time is giving all it can,
As minutes and hours fly by;
For the hours of time are never kind,
Knowing time will always fly.

The arms of time never cease,
They never keep up with the day;
The trod around their plodding path,
They have no time to play.

Tick tock. tick tock turn back the clock,
The hours have been lost;
As minutes and hours add up to years,
While time is counting the cost.

There is time to spend and time to steal,
For time runs hot and cold;
And as we turn the taps to run,
There's time to be young and never grow old.


Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2011


Details | Dressed To The Nines Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Beneath it all

Here walks a man
Dressed to the nines
Talking by hand 
With a mouth full of sighs

Fingers in his pockets
Grasping wads of lint
Eyes rolling in their sockets
Torn socks in shoes looking mint

Trully impressive he is
While he struts down the road
Self-assured the strain of that smile of his
Will stay hidden within the fold

The truth this man
Remains but a mystery
His shiny facade a sham
Yet it does its job implicitly



Copyright © Pravir Dass | Year Posted 2013


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Don't Say Anything

Every time i see you i want to take off my clothes
Its like a bad habit picked up from not seeing you enough
I would strip bare and set myself up in your favorite pose
You know the one that makes me look buff and tough

I wouldnt mind getting it on right there infront of everyone
They would all have their minds blown as we wrestled
Theyd watch for the whole show until we were done
Once finished we would lay down and next to me youd be nestled

From the floor we would enjoy the fruitful view
And as the girls passed wed look up their patterned skirts
But you know that the only one that i really want is you
And i dont mind you lookin up the boys' shirts

And once time to go wed get dressed to the nines
We could go out on the town dressed in tuxedos
We would walk into restaurants served with priceless wines
And we could get comps in all the fancy casinos

And theyd sooon kick us out because wed be a little tipsy
Kick us into the cold night shivering with miserable faces
But we would be warm in our hearts because youd be my little missy
And we could disappear into the night and leave no traces

And id bite my tongue so that i dont say anything* and ruin it
Because i would probably die if something ruined this moment
We could lay again and watch our parents have a fit
But i would just be happy due to the the entanglment


Copyright © casper chubs | Year Posted 2010


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The Ladies of the Temple

Each Sunday you find them at every church at least one in every pew
The ladies of the temple where visits from God are few
They enter in dressed to the nines their flashy clothes are worn
And beneath each painted face you find a heart that’s cold and scorned
Make sure you never cross them for there is hell to pay
If the ladies of temple have a bone to pick your way

The stories that so many tell about problems that arise 
When revenge is sought and payments brought can offer ones demise
Don’t let their sweet words fool you for the meaning behind the voice
Will bring a victim to their knees in prayer before the Lord
I say this now to warn each one for I was once in twine
The curse brought down upon my head outweighed the great divine

To all out there who know too well heed the warning in these words
Please do not mess with ladies dressed to kill now you are warned
Each out for blood each out to hurt every living soul of man
I say this from a compassionate view take heed these words have said
For hell it hath no fury making Satan’s life look simple
A mistake I made when I failed to praise the ladies of the temple


Copyright © Joshua Vick | Year Posted 2010