Best Glamourous Poems
Once love, or rather, that which I thought was love
Swept me over
And had me racing up on a highway
I raced up and up
Till I reached the top most part of a summit
Only to fall
Back down
Broken into pieces
With deep scars
And loose bolts
And, to my horror,
Realized that I had lost a part of me
A part which I needed most
To fit in society
To cater for myself
And to tend to life as well!
Why, at that time,
I had been running after looks
After the impulses of desires
And I had wanted
To fill up an empty space in my heart
Void and vacant, it had hurt so much!
Pray, now that I've matured
And now that I can claim to know love
Love which is so sweet
That it makes me smile at all times
Love which is so melting
That it has become not only my fort
But also my support
My strength
My cause
And of course, my sole purpose in life
Love, have I come to know
Love, runs not after that which is transient
Love, when it is genuine and mature
Caters for the blooming of both the lover and the beloved
Love allows space, makes dreams come true
And even gives way to opportunities
Love, of such kind, I have grown addicted to
For love, of such kind, allows me to retain my individuality
Respects me and has been steadily sewing up
That which has been torn in me
Pray, puppy love is just for social acceptance
Puppy love is just for a show off
To seem glamourous
And to make others envious
But love, true and genuine
Remains discrete
But reveals itself, bared, naked, disrobed and flaming
In between closed walls!
Yes, love, when made of maturity
Remains as a shadow
But becomes the main propelling force!
I welcome you to this magic kingdom
Drowned in endorphins and stale perfume
To hide the stench of sweat but not shame
You're free to leave but you won't be the same
So grab a drink, have one of my fags
The girls and boys in glamourous rags
Fight 'til the sunlight on sticky floors
Tomorrow morning they'll regret it, of course
Forget your morals, you won't need them now
It makes more sense to follow the crowd
That seems so happy and carefree
Intoxicated is the way to be
Am I the jester or the king?
This kingdom is my everything
Live long, all hail, up against the wall
The king is wearing nothing at all
If you're looking to lose yourself
Leave your soul and brain on the shelf
And find yourself washed up on the shores
Of the United Kingdom of Whores
Peering down from a window seat,
she closed her eyes and she sensed the heat,
the plane made its final approach,
and she didn’t mind flying coach,
the land meets the ocean on the east,
and it was emerald green,
that could be seen
from her window,
perfectly manicured hedges and lawns,
graceful coconut palms,
and backyards dotted with pools,
tennis courts and yard tools,
to an outsider it would seem,
that Palm Beach was like a dream,
glamourous in every way,
larger than life, so they say,
beautiful and mysterious like a good book,
worth every moment shared,
worth every look,
highway filled with fancy cars,
host to kings, tycoons and movie stars,
and now a little girl,
heading to a fantasy world.
Sue had been so proud of her curvaceous figure and considered her pert breasts were her outstanding feature. Sadly, breast cancer runs in her family and now she too had fallen victim to this cruel disease.
both breasts are removed
mastectomy surgery
hot tears start to fall
Chemotherapy sessions take its toll on her entire body, with constant sickness she feels so exhausted. Her weight plummets and her clothes hang from her frail frame.
her crowning glory
lost with each stroke of the brush …
golden tresses fall
Twelve months later Sue receives the news she had been dreaming of … she is finally in remission. Reconstruction surgery has been scheduled and soon she hopes to look and feel like a woman again. Her weight is back to normal and glamourous wigs cover her wispy hair.
in sickness and health
their marriage vows hit home hard
husband at her side
Let The Pens Flow - Haibun Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jenish Somadas
08/15/20
At one point in my life i was an artist
I used to paint and draw
Covering a piece of paper
In beautiful colors
And my art told a story
The sort of story you couldn't talk about
I used to go to school every day
Showing up late
Wasn't something I'd do
But i dropped out
Leaving my education behind
I played the bass guitar
In a band called
The Nocturnal
My fingers ran against that bass
Pure magic
The sound of the gods
Setting out to destroy the world
Pure Punk straight from Seattle
At one point i was clean
Sober and pure like a new born baby
Falling further into
What you now call
"disapointment"
Screwing up my veins
with every shot of herion
Killing my brain cells
With every joint i smoked
Clogging up my nose
With every pill you could have known
I used to write lyrics
About my life
My childhood
I used to write journals
The ones you read in the book
that was published of me
I got up on that stage every night
As i was
Nothing fake
Nothing glamourous
Only a few scars
One shot of heroin
Come as you are
The words only speak for
Themselves
Winter weather and fresh pure white snow
Ice to figure skate on and to play hockey
New skates to wear, skating figures on the ice
Time for a cup of hot chocolate and marshmellows
Each and everyone blessed with divine excercise
Real plans for the winter days
Sports like cross country skiing and down hill skiing
Places to visit for winter vacations
Ostentious and glamourous celebrations
Recreational sports and pass times
Tea and cookies after a wintery day
Season that is Christmas and visits
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
Like a finger and a nail, we have a relationship.
Nothing pale, but great as we make contact.
Like a key on a door, the importance we serve
As we mate like red imported fire ants,
We produce words, of wisdom that changes lives of South Africans.
The rainbow of a nation.
As we walk in union, we brake a record like an onion.
As the paper glows, black and red ink looking so glamourous,
God’s creation.
Importance as moringa tree, with leaves that heals,
Coffee with cremora, the, taste that’s prodigious,
Tipex, a wet chalk, as it flows erasing words so auspicious,
Like a ratex, leaving cats in grief as rats croak,
As if you were climbing a steep hill until a rope broke.
As it leans flat like a map,
On a table square like a mat,
Can’t sit on it, but can sleep on it.
Seeking ideas in the world of fantasy.
As the words flows out, vowels and consonants,
All moves down the throat like condense,
A lady with confidence,
Keeping her body all so hydrated, making an acceleration,
Sweet dreams, as she travels in imagination.
Wake up with a pile of medication.
Journey of hundred miles in the head, causing migration,
That needs to be paved on probation.
Indeed, with a pen on a paper.
A paper and a pen
Husband and a wife.
It first began as a stem of a tree, that brought life of a husband,
Who got married to a foreign woman in a band,
From a different mother land.
Yes, a pen, with no maiden name that trends.
As she stands in posture, waving an invisible hand.
Throat cleared, as he puts on a crown.
King and a queen,
We are one plus one.
Depending on each other.
She’s a positive charge, I’m in opposition.
She came in attractive, from Edding AG.
That is why we apply the law of attraction,
Of superfluous reputation, like a battery in a remote,
A petrol in Bertone.
Like hippopotamus, we are halfway enormous,
Spontaneous, we give life so glorious.
um papel e uma caneta
When gone is your glamourous feature
When pain rules and breathing becomes a torture
When limbs are failing one by one
And life is no more a fun.
Then and then alone is the test of your metal
Few can the unwelcome visitor handle
Few can take aging with grace
Others bewail and make frowning face
Look at the flowers, how they blow
Over time they fade and lose their glow
Yet they nod and emit their fragrance
Yet on the rain drop´s rhythm they dance
Why man digs his grave much before he dies
Why he broods, bemoans and cries?
Why a graceful aging he never tries?
Why his eyes act as a waterfall?
And his soul the demons of pain and agony maul
Aging and death are processes of life
The relationship with the world is cut through this knife
They can´t be avoided howsoever one tries
He bemoans, cries or in the flame of agony fries.
Sintra, Portugal, 12 September, 2015
Give me a wink,
if you know what I'm saying
Give me a nod too
Don't let 'em think
that we know what we're doing ain't cool
Give 'em the old soft shoe
Yeah, hit 'em with the soft boot,
I love giving 'em the soft shoe
Geppeto 'em: gear up to peddle 'em
fake leather using phony flattery
Sell 'em the fake goods,
tell 'em what they wanna hear every time,
nobody ever said licking a sucker was a crime
That's right, give 'em the soft shoe,
they'll never know that they're being lied to
Just give me a wink,
and I won't have to say out loud
what we're really trying to do
And I'm gonna need you
to give me that nod too ...
So you can go and do
what we said we don't know nothing about
Then give 'em good misdirection,
paved whitewash coming out your mouth
Tell 'em that the train is headed up north,
but we be on the plane headed down south
When you be giving 'em the paid whitewash,
you gotta show those pearly teeth good
You gotta be smooth with your words,
looking glamourous like Hollywood
And Holly would ... if you give her the wink,
along with the nod
Always remember son,
never let 'em know what you really think ...
keep your peas in the pod
Put prying heifer eyes in their right place,
use the green cattle prod
And tell the hired hands, holding the hot iron brand,
you're gonna need that wink
and that gangster nod
his strength i saw when he was near me,
amongst tumbleweeds in mid-June –
up and o’er dusk i was set free,
under the stardust comforting the moon
adrift the glaze of glamourous skies,
singing an aria of a cradlesong tune,
with a melody playing in chestnut eyes,
adrift the reverie of love’s surprise;
roaming the wonder of what might be,
remembering our decree with guarantee
angel eyes devoid goodbyes,
man once too great for my debris-
of all the death daggered in demise,
HE ALWAYS MEANT THE MOST TO ME
_______________________________________
1.18.20
My Sweet Heart
Dear Sweet heart, I met you on Christmas EVE.
My best PAL introduced, I believe.
On next day party,
Elegant lady,
Gentle pretty!
Your ROSY cheeks blushed: Rose I was to give.
Skilled TAILOR made your dress so glamourous!
MAROON dots, BLACK stripes on WHITE: Gorgeous.
You held the posy
of LILY and DAISY.
I felt so crazy.
‘MERRY Christmas’ You addressed all of us.
I was dressed in BROWN suit and golden tie
I held your hand, you looked sweet soft and shy.
Christmas CAROL sung
Jingle BELL was rung.
JASMINE garland hung.
BRIGHT Full Moon smiled observing us from sky.
Names used in Block letters. Similar pronunciation MERRY: MARY
PAL: PAUL TAILOR: TAYLOR
11/29/16
What's in a Name Contest Viv Wigley
First Place
I asked for 40 winks more, but she
had her way with me, as she always does.
Don't argue with the muse: "The ***** is always right,"
my brother would say in disgust about his third,
and final wife. He's the guy who walked me
down the aisle in a crowded church,
and gave me as wife to his best friend, in lieu
of a father, gone too soon. "I wish Daddy
didn't die," he said, a grown man on the telephone
in one of his late night phone calls, where I
sat huddled in a blanket on the floor, listening
to the lost child he would always be.
He wore pinstripe gray on my wedding day,
preempting the famous "Hucklebuck" as we
christened the funky turquoise suit
that lit up his blue eyes and golden Greek-
god hair. He was the baby brother I raised
after our mother left, leaving him back-
stroking, forever seeking Jesus love
in a sea of imperfect women.
Ever the renegade, he took his married sister
to his Senior Prom to whispers
of impropriety, and glares from pretty girls
who might have been his date. I was
the big sister, glamourous in the simple,
black moire' gown our aunt had made to take
my freshman year at college by storm.
Oh Yes! Brother above reproaches,
gone ten years as your birthday approaches,
I call (no area code needed) to say,
in the 28 minutes it took to write this poem,
maybe less than the time it takes to birth
a baby, 'dare a la luz', red and screaming
in his brand-new birthday suit, Poetry
and you, brother, were labors of love. You:
the most beautiful boy in the world.
Fake smile, check!
Cute outfit, check!
I thought everything was perfect
But when I stare at myself in the mirror,
I see a broken soul with her eyes sore,
Tired and worn out, miserable and hurt.
Overthinking, where it went wrong?
When it wasn’t even her fault.
Call it a gut-feeling or a story foretold,
But she saw it coming knocking at her door.
Cruel and rude, I have no clue,
How I fell for the monster beneath you.
You were too beautiful to be true,
All those feelings to me were new.
Bewitched by your charm,
Gin-soaked in your arms.
Dreamy eyes, glamourous smile,
But your tongue is drenched with spite.
Wake me from this nightmare,
Take me back to the past.
When it was all smiles and talks,
Laughing and fighting, but making up.
Turned me to a toxic drug,
Changed me into someone I’m not
Guess I’m not your Barbie doll,
Hope you find your perfect girl.
Darkness covered me, it’s an apocalypse
Free-falling deeper into the abyss.
Dark days bright nights,approached by glamourous smiles with deep motives and dull
intentions. wonderful noise smothering particulaur senses. Infactuation with the ingredients
of a peculiar taste,brown water,liquid lightening, and a taseful 1738 blend. An atmosphere
full of pretty birds with broken with broken wings implementing the most astounding
memories that should last forever,yet who can remember.smoke the color of rain clouds
granting a peak at the angels fantasies. Whoa give me a moment-lost in translation
understanding words that cant be understood...rescue me from my destiny. morning glances
after acat on the roof entry, angered thoughts of a cherished love lead to a frustrated
intimacy. a special silence follows until broken by spoken half truths.looks of affection that
wish to flee,yet bound by the hearts leash. timid touches and cold concern,promises
announced in a whispered awe. one spilled tear for lack of faith sealed with a kiss of
blasphemy. finally a most needed coma arrives bringing dreams of memories lost. a soul
piercing eye with a pupil of contempt, all so grand for a toll that is sure to ensue...rescue me
from my destiny. A short distance through a long door, the glace behind at a comforting
illussion. The sun is bright always and the days are cold forever. Deeds committed worth
everything thats nothing, still the adrenaline enjoyable is embarked upon. For the sake of
small wonders attendance of the feast of wolves, hand shakes with the brutes during
agreements between civil monsters. Indulged in accomadating a demand amongst a people
of intense cravings and un-satisfiable urges. An un-mentiomable deal from he who is the son
of the one who knows the ageless stranger. reflection of shields with the bias of the eagles
integrity. all in a spectrum of lights that cause excellerated rates of the heart and a million
thoughts in the span of a moment. Surely a daily itenerary...some one please rescue me
from my destiny!
The choices we make
determine what is destined for the future.
Its' You Only
Diamonds are charming and
so are the gems and pearls
but I never find anything
like pretty and glamourous girls
Your red lips and blue eyes
have scorched many earls
your erotic gestures entice them
when you dance with dark curls
When in the autumn wind
calm green leaves swirl
you know all the arts of love
and give every heart a twirl
Seeing you in arms of others
always just makes me hurl
when I find you in the blue sky
you may watch our love unfurl
When you breathe for others
my tender heart is in whirl
but my soul doesn't believe
that you are that kind of girl
Since, I met you on sea-shore
my mind has been in a constant burl
then got a message from heaven
that it's you who is my dream girl
(Kishan Negi)