Best Fishnet Poems
8MILE8MILE . . . . . STYLE . . . . 8MILE8MILE
I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind but no matter where
I go I see them same old hoes
BRING DA BEAT c’mon, c’mon, c’mon HERE WE GO
YEA YEA YEA
They be warin old clothes, exposin them busted ass toez in fishnet pantyhose
They be standin in rowz, striking that silly old pose, workin them same two
Joes
So the rumor grows, and everybody knows, that her name is rose, we know
rose blows
DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE, YEA YEA YEA
She got fired from LoweZ, ’cause she stole a garden hose, spent all the money
at Moe’Z
Yea - Moe’Z ho clothes and fishnet hose, down at 52nd and StrowZ, traffic
really slows when she bends to expose, she get dirt on them knees, when she
blows
DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE YEA YEA YEA
AND THE COP SHOWZ
UP, UP, UP, EVER’BODY UP, C’MON UP, C’MON UP
YEA YEA YEA
She putz the powder up her nose, didn’t pay the fine she owez, gives a
discount to the bros
Ever’body froze, then the streetlight glows, that’z the way it goes, for all them
bimboz
Same for the hoes, az it is for the bros, all the way from Melrose to the
chicagos
And it’s still the same for the Souix and them Navahoes, UH YEA UH YEA
SHOUT OUT TO ALL MY PEEPZ IN THE POCONOS
YEA YEA YEA I’M OUT
OUT ROLLIN ON THAT 8 MILE ROOOOAD
8MILE8MILE . . . . STYLE . . . . 8MILE8MILE
written by
Warner Baxter
One Knight Stand Productions
all rights reserved
Categories:
fishnet, career, humor, music, rap,
Form:
Lyric
Fishnet curves delight
Delectable swells
Oh so Beautiful
Ahh
Categories:
fishnet, fantasy, lust, sexy,
Form:
Haiku
Eroticism -
a supple spine in a wanting curve
and a foolish fever simmers a scarlet heartbeat—
temptation is an aphrodisiac
and guilt— a red kite lost in a hot hurricane
a strand of blue moonstones plunge to titillate
illicit points of contact caught by starlight
restless yin-nerve-endings take an edgy stance—
primal presence pearls beneath parted flimsy fabric
ah.. gossamer chic taken and tossed by windy hands
freeing moons and earth captured in your orbit
golden hair a dirty tangle flies— streamers
of infidelity seized in someone else’s hands
heat-seeking rhythm throbs within walls
a slappin’ poppin’ bass line frenzy
our bodies wild like a warehouse rave
a driving beat hugging hips caught in a fishnet shimmy
high on oxytocin and fizz of affaire du jour—
unbridled breakers breaking vows in a whipped up gale
as hedonistic hot spots revel in unrestrained spindrift
.. it’s a jungle for conjugal love ..
volcanic ash streaks a feral romance
carnal cat (a hungry stippled stray)
pins me down like prey in a dopamine storm
where edges rendezvous soft and hard and fuse
a silhouette of geometry body-painted in black sands
as the surge uncurls the waves—
dreamscape escape on a slick onyx sheet
nakedness blurs in the rough charcoal smudge
shapes shaded with a roll on the rim of a graphite night
the art of cheating sins stain a seedy portrait on skin
yet basks in the moonbeam’s push into the pulse
without mercy or justification—
just unadulterated
adulterated
euphoria!
Categories:
fishnet, beach, betrayal, desire, lust,
Form:
Free verse
THINGS WITH STRINGS
Spider's web, strings of stars,
a weaver's loom, and old guitars.
Balls of yarn, and DNA,
string bikini, and crochet.
Cats cradle, spools of thread,
Tails on kites, and hairs on head.
Theory in music, or in science,
together making a string alliance.
Yo-yo, and Pinocchio,
harp, violin and cello.
Catgut bow, and strings of cheese,
or whiskers on a prized Siamese.
Silly String, and G-string,
an strings of birds on wing.
Math strings, "No strings attached,"
a roof that's been heather thatched.
String quilts, strings of pearls,
strings that tie to locks of curls.
Music staff, and balls of twine,
and tendrils from a sweet pea vine.
Heart, balloon, and aprons too,
and laced up in a tennis shoe.
Garland, hamstring, and quartet,
strings on fingers to not forget.
Braided rings, and strings of lights,
pulling strings, and fishnet tights.
Telephone string through tin cans,
woven blankets and knit afghans.
Brown paper packages tied up in string,
needle, lanterns, and wind chimes that sing.
Drawstring, bowstring, and baby's pull toy,
string, strung, and stringing, we're all overjoyed.
By Edlynn Nau
© January 25, 2015
Categories:
fishnet, celebration, fun, humor, joy,
Form:
List
Sue lurks in the shadows of the night
She stands on the street corner in the red light area of town
Her body is silhouetted by street light flickering through the naked trees
Wrecked by years of drug abuse she craves her next fix
Skin-tight clothing outlines every curve of her aching body
High-heeled shoes and fishnet tights complete her seedy outfit
It's a bitterly cold November night; Sue pulls her jacket around her body,
it only just skims the hem of her miniskirt, giving no protection from the elements,… she struggles desperately to keep warm
Eventually a car pulls up,
A guy rolls down the window and she saunters over
After a brief conversation she gets in and they drive away
He’s in the market for sex
Desperation forces her to sell her body
Inspired by but not for contest
3/23/18
Categories:
fishnet, city, dark, drug, lust,
Form:
Free verse
Night Shift Worker
At sunset is the beginning of our day
Darkness embraces our peevish spirit
Flashing neon signs bring us in esprit
We are mindful of making a living
Danger awaits us anytime
But this is where my feet are destined to go
Where the crime took place, I need to be there on time
My pen and camera come along to tell stories awhile ago
Steady and careful hands are attentive to ailing one
Life and death situation, I presumed life will always prevail
My job demands accuracy, for mistakes will hound my wisdom
Nursing to sustain a losing life will not fail
Eager to go to the heart of the sea
While the full-moon beams dwell into the deep
My fishnet awaits patiently for a catch
For early in the morning, I bring meals to a family
I need to be tough in any situation
Unwelcome visitors alert my action
To guard premises and valuables stay untouched
By greedy creatures harmful to the serenity of the place
The graveyard shift is my time to log for work
The workplace is loud where the phone ring is enchanting
I need to stay calm and soft to answer complaints
In the end, I say “thank you for calling, have a nice day”
I am at work, while most of the humans are sleeping
I sleep when all of them are awake
Cursing words are normal, my ears are adjusted
I am used to it, to make it through my shift every single day
As soon as the sunrise, my day ends
Daylight warms my weary eyes and body bends
Down the hills and street, I rushed
Only to keep the promise, to come home for my family I must
Posted also in voicesnet.com poetry site last: 26 August 2009
Categories:
fishnet, life, passion, people,
Form:
Rhyme
I love the Singer in an All Girl Band
Loch David Crane, 1976
I dreamed about 'ya in your pixie shoes
and watched ‘ya stomp on all my blues;
I dreamed about 'ya in your fishnet tights
and how ‘ya kept me up all night.
I dreamed about 'ya next day too
when my mind should'a been on school.
I dreamed about ‘ya in your leather skirt
‘til my heart began to throb and hurt.
I dreamed about 'ya at a biker dance,
a third leg grew inside my pants.
I dreamed about 'ya and what I’d do
if I could go to bed with you---
But you don't know me an' I think it's true
that I could never succeed with you.
I may as well make other plans
'cause I love the singer in All Girl Band.
My heart is locked in my rib cage
prisoner of a new-wave age;
the only way to set it free
is if you will make love to me.
I've seen the future-- it's black and blue
from random violence, dancin' too;
but that is where I'll have to stand
'cause I love the singer in All Girl Band.
Categories:
fishnet, beautiful, cute love, feelings,
Form:
Ballad
Bored at school
I decided to play the fool
By doing a little dancing for my friends.
A mixture of ballet
taught by my sister Sally
and a little bit of tae kwon do.
My teacher walked in
and with a knowing grin
made me promise to repeat it for the Christmas show.
Dressed in my tutu
Fishnet stockings and a boob tube
Little Daz was ready for the stage
''I love to boogie '' was the tune
and I found very soon
My pirouettes were all the rage.
I heard the howls of laughter
The applause that came soon after
and knew my little dance had been a hit
I would repeat the dance for you
like good friends ought to do
but I'm afraid I can't just find a tutu to fit.
Categories:
fishnet, dance,
Form:
Verse
gardening back the perennial shade,
no time or reason to follow these
months into their graves.
wandering whale songs through a nantucket
wheather vain storm in the plow and bury
the fishnet parable.
a sower of seeds carries the mythic legend,
the horse drawn mantle and the weary knuckle.
but let the sea drown in its own sorrows,
for there is a harbor of stories in the dry
leaf bed of an old teacup on the porch.
the ambient light of the colodial silver
half moons, half shiverers and half
tumbles down.
an orchard of angelic promises in the
sky nurtures and gathers every wool
capped stone.
near polar latitudes along the borders
of a window pane freeze and keep out
every unknown stranger.
biblical knocking... pulling.. tears open
and lets enter the seagulls half hearted charms.
Categories:
fishnet, allegory,
Form:
As the velvet darkness falls
A gothic girl illuminates her black candles
Creating a shade overturn atmosphere
Dressed in raven latex and fishnet stockings
Wearing black lipstick and eyeshadow looking succulent
A pierced tongue and a chock chain around her neck, you know she's perverse
Her perfume smells like a weeping winter
With cardinal highlights in her hair
Complimenting her pale snow white completion
She's a mythic women, wanting love
Someone relating to her darkened world
She'll be embraced, a sweet caresses
A kiss that goes deep, exploiting her flickering lure
Sipping blood-red wine
Penetration from a lover of death
She lets out her dulcet sounds
Biting down on delicate skin, bare each others mark
The smell of potent sex is intoxicating
Filling the room
She who is fain learns to give into the pleasure
Carrying her trance soul
The taste of her inside your mouth will remain
Continuing to prowl her inner sanctum
Peculiar seduction shall be her art
An enigma of feminine beauty
Categories:
fishnet, gothic, love, lust,
Form:
ABC
Before it’s too late
Distant bells clatter on cloud fed weathered skies where
darkness creeps past low light vestibules, faded beams flicker
Short skirts wave in a winter wind, breezy attributes
revealing fishnet thighs calling to the next hidden passenger,
batting lashes and blowing bubbles of stale gum placed under
crushed velvet seats worn in places, stained deliberately
for bragging rights and handkerchief blotting
A ghostly mist lingers as lips are touched up, bright red, crimson,
shades of desire, occupational decisions, advertisements leaking
into sewers and hopscotch squares spread along the avenue
Silhouettes in porch lanterns, whistling…so unladylike, ducking
constables with nightsticks swinging like the clapper in those damn bells
waking the unsuspecting and spooking the transients offering
a few coins for a ten dollar dream
Swine wallows in last week’s gossip, slimy little beings
fat on sausage and biscuits, cursing the rats pushing their way in
below curtains and kitchen windows framing inquisitive eyes,
watching cash change hands and satisfied smirks
on the faces of those wiping feet on mats,
greeting the family in disguise, shirt un-tucked,
long day rewards and dinner on the table
Yesterday’s newspaper tumbles down the walk,
clinging to sign posts, featuring headlines of death, a warning in bold print,
still at large, a menace to society in a grey overcoat,
double breasted and fancy shoeprints in the fresh mud
No further traces except the body, contorted and frozen, smeared faces
littering cobblestone gutters, frightening children and pets,
as passersby look to second floor balconies, oblivious
Midnight calls, staggering drunkards exit Chauncey’s,
hard up and spent, slurred laughter, boisterous to hide worries
and tomorrow’s jobs, time clock lies and penciled in wishes
Iron fence posts rust at the gateway as they glance to the headstones
of friends long past and recent memories, sensing the urge,
seeing the painted nails and low cut blouses, thinking…
before it’s too late
While from a secluded archway…
Categories:
fishnet, dark,
Form:
Free verse
crimson stilettos
mini skirt, fishnet stockings
fantasy attire
Categories:
fishnet, dark,
Form:
Senryu
The inspiration, for this ode of ink,
Had on a skirt colored blue, green, and pink.
Energetic, with an engaging smile,
Rachel impressed me with her unique style.
Aesthetically sexy from head to toe,
Covered in black with a natural glow,
How could one not write Rachel such an ode,
Examined by walking poetic roads.
Lovely legs, like hers, walk along such lines
Quite well, for fishnet thighs that look quite fine.
Under such circumstances, odes should come
In the form of praise, that should come in sums.
Now, this ode, full of some obvious clues,
Names the inspiration of my new muse.
Categories:
fishnet, dedication,
Form:
Sonnet
My first love
is a whore
but i want her back
because she always had my back
when everyone
threw me back, barked, nagged disappeared
continuously on me
just because,
i try and cry to make them understand how i feel
about them
My first love
is a whore
but i want her back
because the love apple, love bite, and her loving
kindness,
makes me lovesick,
and unloved to other love birds, that promiscuously
convey my way,
to convict my heart.
My first love
Is a whore
But I want her back
because she has not false me
but she has inherently taken me the way I am
So I am also readily convinced
to take her the way she is
into my love life
My first love
Is a whore
But I want her back
for I now known
that those whom I took as the goal keepers of my
life 'my friends'
Imprisoned my affections for my first love,
overstretched my suspicion,
and tore my first love's glossy fondness, into
unscrupulous odiousness
My first love
Is a whore
but I will become a fishmonger
Just to fishnet her back into my life,
because I truly want back my first love
even if she is going to come back without her love,
but with her heart
that will serve
Just to see and be with her again
Categories:
fishnet, lost loveme, love, me,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Mr. John is a jolly fisherman
Paddling his boat with single hand
His other hand holds a fishing rod
On hook are worms from peapods
Baiting only the bean-like cods.
Mr. John went fishing yesterday
He threw his fishnet on the bay
When pulled it back
He thought he was having a rock
But then, he caught a big shark!
Mr. John went back to the lake
For his safety’s sake
Whistling while fishing
Lake was so cool and calming
His fishing rod got a crocodile -- hanging!
Mr. John went back to the river
Singing, dancing in his boat like Justine Bieber
Unaware of the log of beavers
Boat capsized. He plunged into the water.
Mr. John moved to his own fishpond
His fishing day was so much fun
After putting some fish traps
Big and small fishes jumped into his lap
Giving him a loud and hearty laugh.
Mr. John is a jolly fisherman
Paddling his boat with single hand
His other hand holds a fishing rod
On hook are worms from peapods
Baiting only the bean-like cods.
Aug 23,2022 9.24pm
A Jolly Fisherman Poetry Contest Enter
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Categories:
fishnet, fishing,
Form:
Rhyme