Best Garters Poems
i spit words much better than you
there is nothing at all that you can do
check out my spelling and my epic grammar
i'll smash your face in with a claw hammer
i carve my name in all your brains
remember me like the smell when it rains
with my fists of fury i'll knock you out
no-one can tell what the hell im on about
my poems make you think
sit down fools and take a drink
while i amaze you all with my dark power
no-one wants to read a poem about a flower
or a fluffy cloud or falling in love
we want to read about death from above
i go against the grain and dont get a lot of views
but that certainly doesnt mean i'll go boo hoo hoo
it makes me stronger faster smarter
dont count me out i'll have your guts for garters
so what have we learned from me today
listen quite closely to what i do and say
don't self publish its ever so vain
im sure it'll cause you nothing but pain
when you get rejected
it cant be what you all expected
im the best poet in the world bar none
better than byron shelley keats and donne
i best be off to write a dreary haiku
oh wait thats not me its obviously you
Categories:
garters, on writing and wordsme,
Form:
Free verse
It is the evening I have waited for,
stiletto heels three inches high adorned my feet,
real nylons hung from garters beneath a
skin tight, leather skirt of maraschino cherry-red.
A blouse of white silk, with a cascade of ruffles,
played peek-a-boo with my décolletage.
Outdoors, the rain pounded the asphalt
making the reality of his arrival even more bizarre.
A Harley barrels into the driveway.
Apparently, he thinks
he is Marlon Brando
and I am Stella?
I stand on the porch, a black umbrella
covering my new do, and watch as he
saunters through the puddles on the concrete walk.
The color of the umbrella my only
non-incongruent element in the frame, the scene made.
His smile was like a box of Chiclet's
on his clean shaven face.
He kisses me.
I lick the raindrop
from the tip of his Roman nose
and take hold of his Russian fingers.
He tosses my umbrella on the porch,
throws his black leather jacket over my shoulders,
lifts me off my feet, and carries me to the bike.
The sun breaks through the clouds and the rain stops,
just in time for the neighbors to glare at the sight of my legs
reflecting on the bikes chrome work.
Shake their respective heads
and donate a few wolf whistles.
Categories:
garters, lust,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Well, is this poem doing it for you?
Should I dress it up in black lace and garters
and shakily strut my stuff in haughty heels
for your emotional ********?
Just what I thought,
a pathetic poetry pervert,
another silent stalker
eavesdropping in the thick midnight,
snooping through shameful shadows
(hold on while I reapply the crimson lipstain)
Oh, you like it like that?
I’ll do whatever you need to get you to
feed and suck
on this saccharine heroin
Here, let’s get it over with
Slide the drapes closed will you?
Under darkness, over muffled traffic
come crawling wet mouth sounds . . .
That’s right
I just caught you gawking in shock
at the silhouette moaning my depravity
What, are you done?
Then roll back over
and let me shake in your vacant silence.
Categories:
garters, on writing and words
Form:
Free verse
(and long brown stockings)
I detest these stockings,
they're coarse, brown and ugly.
I hate the garters more;
elastic circles that cut off
circulation and fail to halt
the laddering down my skinny legs.
If only . . . I picture myself
in warm jeans and no teasing
from Tommy Rogers.
I put the garters to better use,
roll the repulsive stockings
down around my ankles.
Tommy taunts,
"Who gave you
jointed toothpicks for legs?"
I lost it.
Now, Tommy has a black eye
and my nose is in the corner.
Categories:
garters, angst, brother, children, clothes,
Form:
Narrative
GAZA 2014
Which veil b
locks o
ur view of the app
arent , what
purblindness
vis-à-vis this
land s
lice, that we should f
ail
to make
sense of the rebus
it is or to
decip
her the his
torical
hieroglyph it is.
See the man
iacal maw
that makes it more
than a guts-for-garters
clash.But
yet i
t fails the
world’s celeb
rated triage.
Cut through
the curt
ains, take a loo
k at the bipeds
on the other
side and the end-
of-the-world im
ages they s
end forth
Pitted as
they are again
st exist
ential odds,
and attitudes, gun
gho and ra
bid
With human
ity poro
us, pond
ero
us, vapid busy
in ba
lancing acts.
22 Aug 2014.
Categories:
garters, war,
Form:
Free verse
Shock horror, my alarm clock failed,
twas six AM on a Monday morning
this summers day was just dawning,
my shift started at six, going to be late
on probation now wondering my fate,
quickly washed and dressed, in car
only half hour drive so not too far,
luckily traffic was sparse quite desolate
scenarios running through my mind so late,
arrived to find car park deserted just empty
It’s usually half full of cars, at least about twenty,
ran across the foot bridge as fast as I could
boss will have my guts for garters, my blood,
reached machine for clocking in, total shock
thought I was seeing things looking at the clock,
unbelievable twas only quarter past one A M
never used that darn clock again, I did condemn,
will never forget that Monday for as long as I live
certainly a day I never want to ever relive.
8/2/2018
Monday’s poetry contest.
Categories:
garters, anxiety, funny, time, work,
Form:
Rhyme
Ashley best describes himself as,
Cheeky, funny and also happy as,
He’s a student at South Bank Uni,
Of sports coaching in London city.
He is a very keen table tennis player,
Started playing in primary, 7th year,
And just missed out on London 2012,
But was at Rio 2016 with his helve.
2013 and Ashley won many bronzes:
Italy, Hungary and had Czech ounces;
So in 2014 Ashley won UK nationally,
In class 8-9 singles, phenomenally.
Then breakthrough: Slovenian Open.
In the team event, you’re no token,
And at the Cote d’Azur International,
Ashley won 2 bronzes medals brutal.
In 2015 he won in the team events,
Had Italian, HU, CZ and DE tents,
And in Denmark reached the quarters,
At the European Champs, garters.
In Copa, Costa Rica, in the singles,
He took silver in swift class 9 jingles,
And in Rio made the quarters, team,
With K Daybell. He’s Erbs palsy lean.
Categories:
garters, sports, strength,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
I was shaken, my jingle bells taken, ornaments on a runaway corporate sleigh
It had nitrous oxide, investors selling so high, stuffing stockings with my pay
There were elves with cleavage, garters and high heels, twirling on candy canes
And then there was Santa, 10,000 I fathom, having a Bud and watching the game
Oh what have I done, my mistletoe belt buckle undone, clutching a coupon in pain
From my confusion arose, a few sticky ho ho’s, caroling Christmas has come again
Frozen my chatter, this rooftop never fatter, held hostage by a holiday of cheer
Building superstores for a thrill, reindeer on the grill, our 24 hour savior is here
I threw open the door, red tagged a commercial whore, a price check I was needing
Not to my surprise, this place had supersize fries, and just a hint of insider breeding
Cross-eyed speaking, restroom reeking, why the see-through thong with the GPS
Kamikaze carts diving, my crippled heels crying, damn you people for having sex
Bruised and battered, a world raptured, by a fat man with a bulging sack
Barbies with inflatable boobies, Hentai movies, Christ please hurry back
Categories:
garters, allegory, faith, funny, holiday,
Form:
Sonnet
The Real Housewives
Sorry
Reality T.V Housewives
What's that all about
Happy Wife
Happy life
Jesus Christ
Thank God for Nannies
And Cleaner's
And Make up Artist's
Imagine any of these
Without the 3 R's to fall back upon
Rich's
Rrendering
Rhinoplastey
And a cheating Husband
All of the diamonds and all the plastic surgeons
Can't polish a turd
Even if it's covered in gold
Mutton dressed as lamb
Doesn't make a housewife
Real housewives are loved not built
Are Mother's
Not Reality Consumerist martyrs
Dressed in overpriced garters
With fake teeth
Fake smile's
Fake Boobs
And even faker marriages
With bleached and trimmed undercarriages
Slam
Sham
Film flam
Acting like there **** don't stink
Because they are so full of botox
They can't even blink
Can only be watched with the aid of a stiff drink
The mind boggles
How low can we go
Watch the show
Categories:
garters, slam,
Form:
Free verse
The chains that bind me are soft as silk,
Gossamer to the touch, so thin you wouldn’t think they could hurt...
They seem no more than mere bangles,
Jewelled manacles adorning throat and wrists and ankles
They don’t grate on my skin, barely fray the edges of my nerves
Most of the time I don’t even realise they are there
You must be so proud of yourself my love;
You were the weaver of these restraints,
The arbiter of this subtle asphyxiation
You ensnared me with ropes of words, with sweet nothings
And declarations of impassioned love,
Spoken in the name of God, the Merciful, the Ever Watchful
If only I possessed even a fragment of such omnipotence –
I would not be here now, tangled in this soft silver stranglehold,
In these necklaces and girdles and garters of a lover’s laws
When was the moment where you stopped being gentle
And became, instead, a gentle-eyed tyrant?
I must have blinked and missed it, or been blinded by your beguiling smile
Anyway it does not matter now, because here I am,
Dying a slow perfumed death in your ghostly arms,
Reduced to a bewildered puppet on the ends of your serrated steel strings
The secrets of my being stuffed deep down inside of my soul,
Where you cannot find them – where only God can see
Because you seem to have lost sight of what I am baby
And only God will be the one to show you the real, wild and untamed me
The person I am supposed to be...
Categories:
garters, angst, husband, sadgod, god,
Form:
Free verse
Ivie Twombley
1884-1913
Lottie Gordon and me were always together.
Joined at the hip, most folks would say;
You never met two ladies quite like us.
If you had known Lottie and Ivie,
The two of us at age 21,
If you had gotten to know us for our real selves;
Wild bachelorettes in french garters,
Roaming the Quaker streets and alleys,
Of Greenleaf, Philadelphia and Bailey,
Seeking out young mammon, and innocent kisses,
As we did quite regularly in 1905,
Why, you would have summoned our parents!
And the Elders of the Friends Church to boot!
Lottie and me were soulful sisters,
And best friends, especially in the snaring arts,
Trapping both wild men and civilized beasts alike!
It didn’t seem to matter one way or the other really,
Not after what happened to Roscoe.
We all knew someone murdered him.
As we both knew everyone hated him.
My Lottie, she never recovered from losing that man.
It seared my soul to see that girl so broken-hearted.
…I think of her all the time, even now in death.
She’s buried across Citrus Road in Clark Cemetery,
Over there by the old toppled stones,
And the high, giraffe-like, desert palms…
…The earth moves, my friends.
It moves without ceasing, without slowing,
We dead people can feel it rumble and grind and twist,
Rumble like an old machine in winter...
… I met my demise at age 29.
I died like Lottie,
Drowning helplessly,
Without being in the water.
And that is that.
Categories:
garters, death of a friend,
Form:
Epitaph
Stone set unblemished unworked faces create hardship floors on which to sip out of rock puddles. Such luxury. In a fine art landscape one must always wear clicking heels. And one must always lift ones head and toss one's bowl hairdo around. It gives an embellishment of establishment. Yet whilst closing establishments always arrange the items on the tray to perfect the mass erosion of corrosive killers. It is to be said that dueling in a spa is the undeciphed leak of a giant cat. Fat catacombs playing whilst the sky bird drops upon the earth in destructive violent ease. Smiling. Thumbs up. Goggle eyed. Then carcasses pulled by mules. In skirts. Carry no silver blade. Wear no authentic ancient dress. Don the hats and adornments of the fake. To fix a fax is to fornicate frantically causing fish to float. For danger lies in spewed out materials. Look no further than within for truths said millipede to centipede. They were crossing a heavily used junction. Look there at the fortresses and deem not of importance the wealth of a breed born. Then off. Zoom. They went zoom. Good. Gratefully grabbing garters giving greatness. And a small atomicity agonising. Not good. Not great. So no hahahaha to that fried wok explosion. Of sorts it is a curvaceously built argumentative and aromatic compound in a cutlery drawer sailing. Admirable. No not admirable. Jeer not a rolling pin shaped triangularly. Be not a bend in a lane. Xxxxx insectivorous ideologues. Xxxx bean bomb. Xxxxx destitution demon xxxxx dragline drainage basin *** cosmopolitanism z z z.
Categories:
garters, beach,
Form:
"We need to cut the budget" the Treasury Minister said
"To try to get back in the black we’re deeply in the red
Our creditors are losing faith we’re getting near our limit
Gordon said he’d saved the world, I think he’s dropped us in it
Hang on a m’o before we go lets speak to Work and Pensions
Or better still the Bond Market to find out their intentions
The economy is shrinking , the pounds begun to drop
This will up the anti on the credit default swaps
The interest we are paying now is going through the roof
There’s really no way out of it we’ve got to tell the truth
We’ll slash all public spending, that’ll do for starters
If not, no doubt the IMF will have our guts for garters
Lots of folk will lose their jobs, that really is a shame".
"I know it is" the PM said "And we will get the blame.
I know things will be difficult but people should be told
it was Balls, Brown and Milliband who gave away our gold.
Those three and Darling made this mess and got us in this plight
Now we’ll be sacking thousands just to try to put it right
and honest men will lose their jobs and that sticks in my throat
Brown even signed the Treaty without giving us the vote.
They try to blame this on the Yanks for letting Lehmans fall
But that’s a lie they took their eye completely off the ball.
They never made an effort to control the greedy banks
When they tried for re-election the electorate said "No thanks"
Their short sighted ignorance has brought us to our knees
The entire nation now is set to feel the squeeze
They are in denial of the nations cash position
Once the cuts all start to bite they’ll blame the coalition"
I Give Up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Categories:
garters, political
Form:
Zapping your xylophone
While viewing unhappiness
The still reverberating quietus
Pounds on my limbo.
Kings jump in high garters
Feathered elands dive
Catching beautiful aardvarks.
Categories:
garters, dream, nonsense,
Form:
Free verse
Red garters and black stockings
With a black lace camisole
Complete seductive attire
....anticipation
Categories:
garters, passion
Form:
Dodoitsu