Best Fashion Model Poems
a great mystery
a tale of love
love is life
love is sweet
sweet fantasy
sweet kiss
kiss of death
kiss of fire
fire warm
fire is great
great dream
great expectations
expectations disappoint
expectations too high
high in the sky
high price to pay
pay your dues
pay back
back log
back to the start
start flirting
start to finish
finish the story
finish it off
off guard
off the wall
wall to wall
wall of shame
shame on you
shame and honor
honor in death
honor killing
killing me softly
killing for pleasure
pleasure to know
pleasure party
party animal
party queen
queen of hearts
queen of passion
passion to write
passion for fashion
fashion model
fashion experience
experience desire
experience lust
lust for you
lust to dominate
dominate...
YOU...
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Categories:
fashion model, confusion, love, lust,
Form:
Blitz
Love's Fashion Model
Darling, May i dress you
In alphabetic Bytes that Mold
and caress your Manly form?
May i drape you in a Fantasy
made of Words and Nature's imagery?
We would wander thru a quiet cove
where turtle doves could make a melody
and i would find a sandy bank
and weave myrtle leaves and flowers
around your neck, into your hair.
Around your waist I'll thread some tender vines
strewn with apple blossoms sweet;
and with subtle sage plucked from the water's edge
I'll dress your thighs and slender legs.
Across your chest a sash of fiddle ferns
will make your grab complete.
And then I'll lie beside you in the quiet
afternoon; the breeze will bless the stirring
of our passion and the sun will keep us warm.
There the birds will be our serenade, the bubbling
creek their instrument. And with myself...I'll cover
you...where' ere the flowers have not done.
May I drape you with a fantasy
Made of words and nature's imagery.....
Darling....may I ...un-dress you....
Categories:
fashion model, husband, love, romance,
Form:
Free verse
Stef, born in New Zealand’s fine country,
Moved to Canada aged 4 with her parents,
Where she had a boating accident aged 9,
Which amputated her right foot for her life.
She’s married to fellow Paralympian fast,
Canadian wheelchair racer Brent Lakatos,
And they both train at Loughborough Uni,
Where there’s a plethora of sports facilities.
Stef graduated from good Queens University,
In Biochemistry with honours and at times,
Is a professional speaker, a fashion model,
And lay preacher of the gospel and the way.
Before the accident Stephanie played rugby,
But afterwards she could not do this because,
Her prosthetic was at risk of detaching itself,
Mid-game and injuring near placed players.
So she went into track and field athletics,
Practised until she became sick and tired,
Which saw her make the 2008 Paralympics,
In Beijing when she won gold for the sprint.
She graced the podium often at small meets,
In Manchester and in London. Christchurch
Saw her flourish when she won two bronzes:
One for the long jump and one for the 200m.
In Swansea at the European games in 2014,
Stef took home for the T44 long jump a gold,
And in the London Paras which introduced,
So many to disability sport, she won a silver.
In Rio she won another silver, on the mark
For TeamGB. She hasn’t always represented,
Britain because when she was much younger,
She competed for Canada’s rocky territory.
Categories:
fashion model, sports, strength,
Form:
Blank verse
>As an ex- B 2 dog trainer, from the Royal Army Veterinary Corps of too many years ago. I cringe when I see dogs dressed up like fashion models. But knowing me, as you do, it did inspire a poem. Have a nice dress free day today, all my canine friends. However as it is the Cruft’s Dog Show this week and they are after internet canine stars, beware. You know I will not be watching, so your street credibility will still be intact. Smarty knows what must be going through your minds. And he will not bol (bol is a doggy expression which means bark out loud. This being the dog equivalent, of lol, which we humans use as the written communication of laugh out loud, on that infernal internet, we all seem to be hooked on.)
Please do not hound me.
By Stanley Russell Harris (TMA)
I'm not a fashion model.
Not a woman or a man.
I feel the best in my own coat.
That's how I feel best, man.
And if you are a woman.
I'll lick you if I can.
You see, they say, ' I'm man's best friend,'
although, they might be wrong.
But dressed up like a fashion model!
I think that's, oh so wrong.
I hope my canine friends don't see me.
Or my street credibility will all be gone.
With that thought inside my head.
I'm off now, back to bed.
So long, 'Woof.'
The above tail, sorry tale, I mean poem, (Dragon pay attention,) was inspired by the Author of Smarty Search and Rescue Dog Books. Available on www.feedaread.com?>aff=6463. Have a nice day everyone. I am still on cloud nine having been declared cancer free, yesterday, yahoo. <
Categories:
fashion model, animal, best friend, dog,
Form:
Justice of a beautiful woman is that of a model.
She may just be a Christian whore.
In five inches high hills, she does the Catwalk.
Her asymmetrical body spins in Prada blend.
She smiles and saunters entertainingly.
She is powerful.
She is a mogul.
Justness of a handsome man is that of a beautiful model.
Even in his sexual identity, he does the catwalk.
In Berluti loafers, he strolls as just another beau in a fashion show.
The designers place him tersely.
He becomes a baller and shot caller in the fashion industry.
He is magnate.
He is dynast.
In the entertainment world, life meanders.
The portrait that is viewed is of a fashion model.
She gleams in sketch.
His sheen is imaged.
__________________________/
Penned May 21, 2014!
Categories:
fashion model, clothes, color, fashion, identity,
Form:
Rhyme
If I were a fashion model would you date me,
If I had beautiful long dark hair, would you find me beautiful.
If I had perfect make-up, would you take the time to care,
If i wrote you long letters of friendship would you respond.
If I invited you to lunch would you come,
If I invited you to dinner would we still be friends.
Now I am old but still young in many ways,
Colored my dark hair and highlighted that blond.
I guess I will meet someone just as nice,
They say if you love someone set them free.
If they are yours they will come back to you,
If they do they are yours, if they don't they were never yours to begin with.
This is a tough lesson from the Lord,
There is a limit to this friendship, when your friend leaves.
You simply remember him as a dear friend,
Whom you wish to see some day again.
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz.
Categories:
fashion model, appreciation, beautiful, fashion, friend,
Form:
Free verse
My father Dr. Wolf was a fashion director,
Since then I have liked beautiful fashions.
Once he brought my mother and i a coat,sweater and skirt combination,
A beautiful blue jay colored dress with a rainbow collar.
Combining a pretty dress with jewelry,
Slacks and tops that are compatible.
I think that has taken me a long time to assimilate,
When I was married, there wasn't much time to think of fashions.
As a divorced woman I took a great interest in dressing fashionably,
These were my Parents Without Partners years.
I even dreamed of becoming a performer,
To dress fashionable, I had a photographic session.
As a senior I have kept my somewhat slim figure,
I even thought of becoming a fashion model.
Now we have lovely fashion boutiques,
Where you could purchase lovely fashions.
I always say each day is a fashion parade,
To be enjoyed by the good neighbors.
Author:Gwen von Erlach Schutz
Categories:
fashion model, appreciation, beautiful, fashion, friendship,
Form:
Free verse
I am no fashion model and that’s for sure
I need to do a lot of work to be a Size 4
Feeling pretty and petite is for what I strive
But I am far from being a Size 5
Eating yogurt, salad, celery and carrot sticks
I will never in my lifetime be a Size 6
Always feeling down and praying to god in heaven
Asking him why have I never been a Size 7
Constantly downing myself and questioning my fate
Why don’t I stand tall and have a figure to fit a Size 8
Restrictions,diets,sugar substitutes,everything in moderation just give it time
All the while killing myself trying to be a Size 9
Buying butt lifters and waist trainers trying to fit in
Lord knows it’s a lot of work trying to be a Size 10
Never been a Size 11 or 12 although I could fit a 13 comfortably at one point in time
But having my four babies helped me jump past a 14 into Size 15/16 depressing but I’ll be fine
Then it hit me I finally see
God made me this way because I am a PERFECT SIZE ME
Categories:
fashion model, depression, life, women,
Form:
ABC
What sends the athlete to a sweaty slaughter ?
What makes the thief cross the honour border ?
And short man syndrome crave the taller ?
Where the grass is always greener.
The family man craves the bigger house
The fashion model a thinner blowse
The man at the bar a younger spouse
Where the grass is always greener.
Where the problems of life will disappear
Where all our memories are souvenirs
Where Highland mist will always clear
Where the grass is always greener.
Why let what you have slip through the cracks ?
And let the voice within you subtract
What you have bought by truth to attract
That's more than where the grass is greener.
Categories:
fashion model, life,
Form:
Rhyme
A little lipstick could not hurt.
But she was eight, and refused lunch after it was on.
She thought she was "fat" now, and she wanted to be thin.
I caught her wearing scarlet nails the Tuesday after the lipstick.
Her Daddy thought it was cute.
Her grandmother bought an eyelash curler
And false eyelashes for her at the mall.
She wanted a waist now, and boobs. She was still eight.
I threw it all away, but people sabotaged me, it all came back.
She stopped eating food at nine, pushing it around her plate.
Pretending she had eaten something.
I knew she had not.
Still wearing lipstick, and lots of eye make-up.
It did not make her look happy; it made her look sad.
It made me feel sad; I tried to talk to her enablers.
They told me I was wrong.
She stopped eating at nine. Saw herself as fat.
Wanted to be a fashion model; she weighed seventy-six pounds.
By ten she was diagnosed with anorexia.
An emotional disease that killed Karen Carpenter and others.
She weighs one hundred and ten pounds now.
She is five foot ten, and twenty-two years old.
She is in the hospital again, and they are trying to coax her to eat.
A little lipstick could not hurt? She was eight, and needed to be a little girl. I am beyond words now.
Categories:
fashion model, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Blank verse
When young I wanted to seriously change my name,
to something pretty like Rose but not everyday Mary Jane,
being named after a flower would've be so sweet,
feeling like a scented princess from my head down to my feet,
Then I noticed in the late 1960's some female celebrities,
who were up and coming with the same first name as me,
one a svelte pop singer the other a fashion model,
thats when to my name I started to feel a little more partial,
My Mom buying me a barrette that I wore proudly in my hair,
with my name upon it which I wore with a lot of care,
liking my name more but wishing I could've dropped the L,
because of hearing certain songs on the radio that made my heart melt,
But since I'm almost 60 I guess I'm stuck with it,
its a name I guess I grew into and which somehow fits,
guessing its better than what would've been my parents first choice,
impulsively changing it on my birth certificate and to which I can rejoice!
1-7-17
Categories:
fashion model, childhood, growing up, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
what the!
did you say
we the people
are living
in a bad new age
we can no longer
live in a melodramatic
irredeemable way!
oblivious to
what, we do
and how it will
hurt the children
of today
you say
we the community
need to act
in a uncivilized way
clean up this
right away
and do all we can
on this very day
cut down on
things that cause
environment toxic waste
shout no more
crude oil spills
in the river and lakes
and not to live
with plastics
severed up
on our family's
dinner plates
no! you didn't,
just
try and save the World
by getting manhandle
by every cop in the world
whats that you say
its time to
get up and march
its another
fu*k with the
man Friday
Ok! lets do it your way...
Categories:
fashion model, celebrity, children, earth, environment,
Form:
Lyric
Elegantly dressed, her raven black hair
in a tight bun above her proud head,
like a coiled up rattlesnake,
She walks like a fashion model
strutting down the runway.
~She Walks contest by Julia Ward
Categories:
fashion model, beautiful, woman,
Form:
Free verse
She strikes a fashion model pose,
Complete with playful grin.
Her toddlerhood is over –
Let the “girly” years begin!
She opens all her presents
Then insists she wants some more,
Surrounded by the wrapping paper,
Bows and cards galore.
She wants to hold her cousin,
Who’s a baby, on her lap.
“I don’t need any help!” she says,
Like it’s a handicap.
Today she’s turning three years old,
Which I cannot believe.
I wonder just what other tricks
She’s hiding up her sleeve.
Categories:
fashion model, granddaughter,
Form:
Rhyme
19th april 2012
By Sashi.Prabhu(ZEAUOXIAN).
I just can't win,
And when i get very close to win ............
They gasp to search and find where lies my secrets dark,
I am not handsome or dashing akin some fashion model all sharp.
When I start to tell them stuff they are not aware of, they think I fib,
Muster they will all their will to put me down and just not crib.
I just can't win
When I tell to them it’s within my reach and I can do,
All they will is to scheme and get me from it as far away as Xanadu.
When I enter a room as cool as can be,
They lower their voices and their scheming eyes avoid me.
I just can't win
As I work upon my chore some error which I do, they chuckle to see,
They swarm then around me like a hive of savage bee.
I always tell them that it’s the fire in my eye and the passion in my heart,
Progressive push in my thoughts and joys to my nimble feet brought.
I just can't win
I just can't win
Women have wondered what they see in me,
They try so hard but my inner mystery they cannot see.
When I try to show them what’s inside me,
They all say in unison they just can’t see.
Don’t know if you will understand why my head is held so high above,
I push and drive to get my work done and goals met anyhow.
But I just can't win
The softness in my heart and the bend of my hair,
They have exploited and I all I need now is to care,
…. Care I will surely from now on,
My resolve to be firm is now far from gone….
I dont care if I can't win.
I’ve heard that the war is not right,
Because it’s only broken relationships that are left.
Don’t choke and suffocate on holding it within you,
I‘ve learnt the universal words that are true
“Don’t hold on to what you want” and you,
Let go and it comes right back and sticks like glue.
Wrong choices in life by them,
Get you to the places meant for the “gem”.
But am saddened now that their hearts now,
Pass through desolate and lonely street they sow,
To “resentment alley” is the place they will all go……..
With them losing my heart would be happy because "I just can't win"
Categories:
fashion model, happiness, hope, inspirational, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme