Best Fashionably Poems
Movie star eyes
Perfect caramel skin
Screech. That would be too perfect.
Change that to something pastier
Alabaster maybe
The monster in the mirror
Smiled with her green eyes
Vivian Leigh maybe?
She watched her face transform
But she added the caramel
And she looked more like
Sophia Loren
Maybe brown eyes? She suggested
The magic mirror was losing patience
Make up your mind it said.
Did it really matter
What you look like
When you lure a man to his death?
The mirror’s grin widened.
She patted her auburn curls in place
And picked up her cape.
She was ready for the hunt.
Written: November 27, 2019
Contest: Favorite Poem from November 2019
Sponsor: Julia Ward
CORONALITY (1)
Polyneuropathy of a poisonous dark child,
Weapon of mass destruction,
Born to the family called Earth,
Name Corona, last name Virus,
Nickname Covid, aged nineteen (19),
Nationality China, who premeditatedly planned
The glint of bodies: naked, suited or adorned,
Down by the old soul (earth).
International terrorism at it's best,
Who is going to be the jury
To hear and decide this infliction of life's injury.
Death fashionably attired with a face new
And name, Corona, reminiscent of something I knew,
Now the ghost of life that begins
Can freely travel from Italy to America,
From United kingdom to Faroe island
Even without aviation and documents
To waver in arms of loved ones or pen pals.
What's going on with our beloved Earth?
Carcasses; I smell a rat,
Chinese government wears the aroma
And Wuhan Institute of Virology,
I see Shi Zengli's lab oozes 'the dead rat'
And Major General Chen Wei's hands stained
With tactics, strategies and blood
Like a small red circle on a white flag.
Welcome to the apocalypse, age of Ragnarok.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2020
can i get a back beat
my doctor
is a proctor
not to be bothered
about your father
so go further
blur blurring vision
deciding decisions
yo
begin again
begin again
i've never sinned
casting stones
throw in the towel
after a awhile
fashion fashionably
late for a date
yo
no make up
making me make
taking a take
a second glance
a second glance
yo
yo
yo
loca mujer
hair dyed rojo
afro fantastico
don't know when
even then
then is now
bow to you
you're my Muse
muse about
get it all out
no leather couch
here where
all are chairs
take care
take your meds
bed is bedtime
time i'm instead
writing about her
again about her
again
yo
vinyl record scratching
back records show
you're good to go
yo
yo
you're good to go
te quiero
te quiero
Splashed myself with Jovan musk..
to cover up sweat from the docks.
worked all day, back ached.,but I swear,
I'm comin' to see you bright-eyed one.
'Cause you were the best of times,
you were the worst of times, and
I swear to always love 'em both...
Quick fill up for the trusty Mercury..
picked through my favorite tapes,
while miles of curvy road fade to twilight.
Sister Fran said 'she'll be down in a minute',
I sit and talk to her and brother Tom..,
while you preen and finger the Aqua Net..
Fashionably late to the Sadie Hawkins dance.,
let it sway and twirl in your Farrah Fawcett waves,
acted bored at the tinsel covered gym,
friends in decoration committee made so fine..
And I care about you so, never want to let you go,
it's sure to break my weary mind.
Pull you close to let the street lights play..
pass my arm around elastic waist,
jean pockets were made to hook a lover
and I always love that bright eyed face.
Two fiery eyes shined in the best of times,
stormy reverie in the worst of times, and
I swear to always love 'em both...
A haze…
Languorous oft in summer days
Where sundrops drip
From melting skies
Onto city grind
And parasols shade the cobbled grays
Across back alley lanes
Trains and trolleys tip toe by
As a fool in love forever waits
Among a noon bistro Paris crowd
For his girl, who is always fashionably late
Outside a sidewalk somewhere café cityscape
Young beauties amidst a mid-day stroll
Becomingly, become ever respectively
The flowers that line the picket way
Or some frilly prize ponies
Beneath carousels about avenues of Torrid place
A testament to this…
The carriage horses that turn their whiny heads
And then, when I turn mine
It’s to witness boots of cavalier instead
That step to one side
For moments languor has left
As my own prize has made red carpets rise
Those flutter lashes like shotguns glint blasts
And soon the white dove makes its notorious descent
Where the gentlemen, unbeknownst to them, become like minded ruffians
As they dive into madness for her precious handkerchief
“Oh” this women of mine, she has her perculiar ways
Just like all the silly rest
My damsel mademoiselle never enters into throes of distress
Longer lace invites mischievous about a button down dress
And her kisses offer smiles and arduent waves
With utter love contempt to them, but my hand is her biggest praise
I guess it’s the thrill of the game
And she’s the tigress and I her willful prey
Opening up the Gazette, coffee I incredulous sip and purposely hide my face
As my sweet flora strolls my way
And lands into her lover's arms
In a somewhere summer Paris afternoon café
Look at you
Oh so fashionably accessorised
In a demi-couture package
In your environmentally conscious style
Playing out ecological homage.
But bright red plastic buttons tinge your dress
iPhone resplendent in its fluoro yellow cover
Television screen sized sunglasses
Your hair infused with streaks of amber.
Revolutionary or is it maybe avant-garde?
Your visionless voice on sustainable ecology.
Little chance dirt would have graced your nails
Nouveau magazines guiding your ideologies.
The empowerment that must come with driving
Urban tractor, fuel efficiency rating and bling
Billowing air-conditioning making it bearable
Jingling bangles as you swap CD’s to sing.
Small pity the organic shop is across town
But the drive is so definitely bearable.
Cling filmed ethical food on polystyrene
The Emperors clothes so plausibly venerable.
You disdain the smog of a wood fuelled fire
Preferring the heat that occurs from a pump
Oblivious appliances are fed by a coal powered station
Comfortable the broken hair dryer goes to the dump.
But I’ll always admire your self-serving tenacity
Because with candid conviction you’re the first to judge me.
* A wee dabble and play
I stand and wait by the garden gate
My object of affection is fashionably late
When she appears she will be mine
For a wedding is planned to celebrate.
in no particular order
as consideration for fodder
it is the wandering clouds
hover above the crowds
it is the mountain snow
reflecting the suns flow
the giant oaks fashionably seductive
their virile presence always productive
the sunrise dispersing warm streams of light
decorating the morning rush
followed by the sunset...its downward flight
fades the bright to an evening hush
it is the smokey make-up worn by model nights
with glowing gems against their pitch black sights
it is the forest dwellers those who steal our hearts
the giant creatures that speeds our beating parts
the symphony of the rainforests with its hidden notes
the beaches with its bleached sands its spoken quotes
everywhere you look...prized
his loving eyes eccentricsized
gathered to accentuate his caring glare
nothing compares to God's eyes...their flare.
Oct 6 2014
Contest: Eccsentrisize my Eyes
Sponsor: Myster Rose
For these ingredients, check life's pantry.
But be warned: most are hard to find!
However, when mixed in a bowl most pure,
They make a 'dish' that's one-of-a-kind!
Take equal parts of honesty
And gratitude beyond mere words ;
Add to this loyalty, generosity &
Strong conviction in healthy thirds.
You'll need devotion, compassion
And kind thoughtfulness ;
A pinch of pure dedication -
Wrapped in warm trustworthiness.
Now stir in a sense of humour,
Don't go easy on the laughter -
As you'll find this fashionably tasteful,
With a tang that lingers long after.
What amazes about this intriguing dish
Is how it rises above adversity,
Due to its special resilient essence
Based on home-grown spirituality!
When of this unique creation
You have truly experienced,
Life will no longer be the same:
For it will be immeasureably enriched!
It is not a sliver shame, that I have never felt what it feels like to dance along with the coldest feelings of winter, or holiday away with the warmest summer breezing, or either skate swiftly on the snowfall iced grounds.
I might be called a complicated bush man, for this. But I do not feel less aware intelligently or less creative to life affairs.
Because, I am wise enough to know,that it is the same heavens, that someone on the sea sees, that is the same view someone on land sees also. There might be difference in the atmospheric temperature, but the heavens will always remain a sky and not a scarf or scar.
I am an alien to summer, autumn, winter, spring and definitely a super alien to snow, but I am not an alien to hope, understand and experience, and surely my faith and hope of being in a snowy, summer and winter environment, shall never expire, this I known!
One day, I shall make summer my muffler of inspiration,
autumn, my soulful air of perseverances and continuity to excellence,
While winter, will be my successful coolant, to fluid up the burning inspiration of my unborn books.
Till then,
I shall humbly wait and boldly work on, sincerely to a fashionably attractive endeavour, till I completely erase the uncultivated feelings.
And when I have achieved my crystal dreams of dancing to the summer breeze and clothing myself with snows, then I shall shake the sown feelings off, and start dreaming of visiting the moon.
O Charlie
You razzle and dazzle us
With your Harley
With your gold rings and gold teeth
You sure are king of bling.
Oh Charlie
Your tomatoes are fashionably hued
Your fruits are so fruity and plummmmy
Oh Charlie
Your greens are so green
So that we don't need no salad cream.
Oh Charlie
All your produce are organically sourced
You are a man of embellished words
You obey the fair trade rules
For it is in greengrocer's clause.
Oh Charlie!
My folks call you Charles
For you are a man of true class.
Oh Charlie
You have been an entertaining
Fixture of my hood
For twenty five years
Or so
Why the heck no body had dedicated
A song for you before?
Oh Charlie! Charlie, Charlie. Charlie
You razzle and dazzle us
With your Harley.
You have only gone
And introduced a brand new
Product called "barley"!
As I said before
You are a man of many
Embellished words!
I am writing this poem to my husband ...
I met you at the art gallery
and will never forget that day
my eyes grazed over you
and I was left breathless
so handsome, though
I thought you needed a shave
then, realized it was a look
you could be a model
vary tall, you looked to be fit, sinewy
your dark hair touched the collar
of your worn jean jacket in a romantic way
and fell over one side of your face
your jeans were fashionably faded
the backpack had seen better days
you looked like a struggling artist
looking down at me you smiled
and I was swept away in the ocean
of your blue eyes
and I was lost
I like your hair you said in a deep
French accented voice
I love the color
blushing I said thank you
you look very pretty today
I looked down at my whimsical flowered dress
we walked together looking at the art
then, you stood in front of me
can I be so bold as to ask you
to come for a coffee
and I could not resist
we sat in the cafeteria talking for hours
about all sorts of things
and that was the beginning
we were from the start spiritually connected
as we both liked the same things
like art, nature, poetry and writing, cooking
and what was happening in the world
we walked endless forests and meadows
sat by streams talking
then, one day while watching ducks
on a park bench
you leaned over and kissed me
and I could not hold back my aching
I kissed you back with trembling passion
back home we took an unchained
intoxicating journey of abandon
it was a dance of love that left us both aglow
that is when I knew, for sure that
I loved you
days turned into months and months
and each time I saw you
it was like the first time at the art gallery
I was your love captive
you had my heart and soul
so, when you asked me to marry you
it was ethereal
like a dream
and of course, I said yes, yes
you wrap me in your love each day
you are my one true love
forever, and evermore
and this poem is for you, love
_______________________
March 06, 2023
Poetry/Free Verse/You Are My Everything
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1529-940-06
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, For You, Love
sponsor, Regina McIntosh, Judged 03/12/2023
First Place
This morning I waved goodbye to Summer. I watched as it pulled away, taking with it the swim parties, barbecues, shorts and flip flops. It promised to return next year, but l couldn't stop a longing tear from escaping my no-longer-fashionably-shaded eyes. Such a warm and giving friend, whose offerings included flowers, vegetables, fruit.
I turned and trudged sadly into my buttoned up, stuffy house. The leaves' dry fingers scratched longingly at the windows, as if they knew a warm fire and a sip of hot cider is all they needed to restore their former glory. I mourned my sunscreen and lemonade, and stared longingly at my beach towel and chair.
Suddenly, feeling my life was fated to become as pasty as my skin, I realized that the cold shoulder was mine. Winter had blown into my life with boisterous aplomb, bringing cocoa and sweaters and snowmen, and it was me who rejected her and hibernated from her offers of ski trips and skates.
It was as if I had been eating only oatmeal until now: I was malnourished and had missed out on the flavor of life! How boring would be the artist's canvas that contained only one color, one stroke, one perspective. So I welcomed my new friend Winter, in all her frigid fabulousness, with gingerbread and egg nog, and we began the journey to understanding together.
The maiden was carrying a basket
it was full of sweet flowers for market
once she got there she places a blanket
then lays the bunches around a casket
A toff came along and got one for Ascot
he doffed his hat showing a crew cut
the fabric of his trousers was tricot
made up fashionably in cross cut
He invites her to join him at Ascot
leading her down to a leafy short cut
intentions clear he opens his tricot
so she made good use of hidden off cut
Flees from situation most delicate
to get involved much too intricate
after all you must follow etiquette
to remain in the temple's syndicate
Collecting up her flowers and basket
she made her way home out of the market
she wrote never again in triplicate
as her cat came over to affricate
She sat down to a dinner of brisket
followed by a nice tasty biscuit
getting it down, she cleaned the musket
finishes day ironing her weskit
~~~~~~
affricate means to rub up against
Tricot is a fabric or material
weskit is a word for waistcoat usually very ornate
I heard the radio say we won’t make it
the announcer was quite sure of it
I’m fearing the sound of sirens
Welcoming the sound of detachment
From inside out
Outside in
From last nights drink to tomorrow nights sin
Dead on time isn’t my usual agenda, but neither was any of this
Showing up fashionably late fashionable
Helped ease the conversationalist
The man in the corner
Dirty wine glasses stack to the brim with sedatives
Someone help me
I wasn’t supposed to see the criteria
Somebody get me out of this fog
I can see a shadow holding a rose with comfort
Someone get me out of this fog
Five seconds before the crash
I was illustrating my demise
Speaking of you
Speaking of me
I’ve suffered worse fates in your eyes
Five seconds before the garden
I was watching your mother crow
Speaking of her
Speaking of him
From the thumping down below
This is it, this is the rest of our lives
This is what happens when you blink
This is the rest of our lives