Best High Fashion Poems
"properly dressed"
if ever you wonder if there is a dress code
thinking of this will lead fast to overload
conserve energy for more important things
take yourself your heart and love too
in return I'll be ready waiting for you
with open arms holding passion to last
our pact stands wear jammies you like most
in high fashion and more to love we'll toast
celebrating concepts of being properly dressed
SkyWatcher
08-31-23
I went to the mailbox
Much to my dismay
I would've rather had smallpox
Than what I found today
I may sound dramatic
And I guess that is true
But what I found so traumatic
You sounded so blue
Did it cross your mind
As I curled in your womb
That the people I'd find
Couldn't deal with your bloom
Did you find some compassion
When you ran with the wind
Did you dress in high fashion
Or the flower child trend
I hate that my screaming
Got under your skin
One nurse was redeeming
So the doctor dropped in
Now I will tell you
The source of our pain
Was a clavicle fracture
With a nerve induced strain
This poem is of childhood
And all it entails
I won't create falsehood
For truth always sales
Don't put your guilt and pity on me
Or whatever you felt in the latter
You'll never recall the flower I'll be
Came from mental abuse, hate and batter
Inventive minds can be inspired
Great ideas in time may be sired
High fashion and style
Are acquired for a while
But in the brain sex is hard wired
I have her nineteen fifties' Trifari
fine costume jewelry, which I hold dear,
since my sweet mom bequeathed it all to me;
when worn or touched, I feel her presence near.
The ritzy, sparkling rhinestone matching sets
showcased in satin-lined, faux leather case,
were treasured as high fashion; no regrets
when given as a gift of style and grace.
And too, are pearls embedded in bright gold
with settings of such intricate design.
I love to look at them, to fondle, hold
these precious pieces treasured now as mine.
I wear my mother's gems from time to time
and feel her basking in the lovely glow
that once adorned her beauty in its prime
and graced her loveliness in stylish show.
So I devotedly take tender care
of these Trifari gifts passed on to me;
her treasures shine with special love we share,
safeguarded through her cherished jewelry.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Old Jewelry or Just Old Things
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 11/06/2016
Since the1920s, Trifari has been one of the most respected and admired producers of costume jewelry in the United States. Founded in the1910s by Gustavo Trifari, the Italian-immigrant son of a Napoli goldsmith, the company has designed jewelry that’s been worn by countless high-profile clients, from Mamie Eisenhower to Madonna. Trifari costume jewelry is highly collectible today.
A Girls Night Out
Girls talk. It’s what they do
And shoes….Yes…They do that too
Some girls are thirsty after breakfast
Coffee’s good but never lasting
They have this thing that they invented
Involving other beverages of certain measure
Adult drinks at night clubs brings them pleasure
Perhaps some alcohol makes things brighter
It might be safe…but then again….
They’re heads are lighter
It’s A Girls Night Out
An innocent party
To talk about, control and brand a man
Cheering with a brandy in each hand
When girls gather after hours
Congregate and “play” to gain more power
They hit the night clubs in high fashion
Looking for a little action
Mary had one too many drinks
And a man’s underwear in her purse
Discovered when she went home
What could be worse?
She forgot his name….and for the record…hers too
Girls talk. That’s what they do
She ended up marrying underwear man
And still goes out on a girls night out
For fun and pleasure
And shoes…Yes….They’ll use them too
On your head if you refuse
5/18/14 A Girls Night Out contest
(Adventures In Geriatric Land)
Does your dentist have money for Porsche that you’ve lost?
Is the hair on your head now the color of frost?
Is the zip in your life only internet speed?
Do your savings accounts all too easily bleed?
Does your bladder evacuate slower than sound?
Do your friends all speak louder when you are around?
Is night driving more difficult due to the glare,
Do night road signs all seem that they’re needing repair?
Are closed captions de rigueur while watching TV,
Spicy foods mean you’re somewhere you don’t want to be?
Do you now find you look at each phone number twice,
Does it seem you’re less trusting of stranger's advice?
Does high fashion place second to comfort these days,
Shoes that tie seem they must be a teenager’s craze?
Does your body seem more like the shape of a pear,
Are there times you’re not sure if your feet are still there?
Does your nose know what septum that deviates means?
Do you find that you’re now not so jealous of teens?
Does your back really hurt at times, knees always ache?
Do you sometimes feel drowsy when life needs awake?
And do taxes now fill your whole body with dread
Are there days that you feel like you envy the dead?
Can you look at your life and still think it well spent?
Does it seem now that multitudes live in your tent?
Well if all this is true and you still greet the day,
If you don’t let the little things get in your way,
If you’ve learned to accept and you don’t fear the end
Then rejoice in arrival of mensch-hood my friend.
Brian Johnston
January 22, 2016
Who’s pitching tonight?
Him? – Oh he’ll do alright
His curveball’s so tight
Yankee Fan
Be it Clemens, Mussina or Meyers
Pettitte, Rivera, Villone
He’s willing to bet on his pitcher
Especially if pitching at home
Jeater – now he’s really something
And A Rod – no equal is found
They cover the left in the infield
And Boy! How they cover that ground
Who’s pitching tonight?
Him? – Oh he’ll do alright
His fastball is so out of sight
Yankee Fan
Pin stripes are high fashion to him
Even fat guys look kind of slim
With the pants ending just at shin
In fashion they always win
He’s been in the House that Ruth Built
He’d sit there though heat made him wilt
He’s loyal without any guilt
He’s Yankee clean up to the hilt
Team roster? He knows every man
The batboy? He’ll name him – he can
This isn’t some fair weather fan
George Steinbrenner – yea – He’s da man
Who’s pitching tonight?
Him? – Oh he’ll do alright
His slider is simply a fright
Yankee Fan
Sure there’s work to be done by this evening
There are papers to read and to write
And it’s early but still he is leaving
The Yankees are playing tonight!
Who’s pitching today?
Doesn’t matter – no way
Yanks are playing hooray!
Yankee Fan!
A girl can have more fun when dressed in red,
With killer high heels and a smile to turn heads.
Red is a color of deep, rich passion,
Not to mention that it is very high fashion.
She’s a flirt, and is as pretty as they come.
And with one look, she has you right under her thumb.
Don’t dismiss the memorable girl in red,
Because with her, you never know what’s ahead!
Look at them, tangled in insignificant conversation
about politics or stereotypes of blacks, whites and Asians,
lack of youth education, weather ruined vacations, how inflation squeezing their arm like “yo, I got you taken,
and how fuel became a bill from the money that we are making.
They sacrifice the savings to keep a standard of living.
I hear then talking about their lovers lack of love that they are giving
I say communicate or leave because time is steady ticking
Look at them
Buying expensive rims, and high fashion clothes with sneakers, lugz, and tims. Inside I soul spy like
magnified mri’s an imaginary field force of selfishness and pride.
Careless if they fetus die, cry internal cause maternal really means giving up a lot.
They sacrifice the club shot for shot life and dreams and the scene of kings and queens all decken together…
and their business is each others infused for forever playing tether with the ball of a pendulum. Uncovered
are their memories of covers and words they’ve past uttered…it is just another case of lack of patience
Like gimme good but hold the impregnation. Bright futures still there steady waitin
Look at them
Thinking they can plan their lives, brake the rules of the beehive that ran their lives, make a little honey to
expand their lives, then forget they folk turn around forget they wives.
See she lost her heart and he aint got no eyes but in such a dark world that man is king.’
Look at her flaunting that ring then pawning that ring because all that mattered was a shiny thing. Not the
signs
Look at them tryna rewind. Relight the spark that wouldn’t stay the last 20 times
It should be a crime to try to live back there. Yo people do change but change is rare
They put it all on retail so it can be re-teared
All the hurt made them cold so they don’t care
Blinded by the glare, and the lights and such
Look at them! Don’t they know they done sold too much?
In for a short time touch instead of long term goals
People drive through they souls without no tolls
All control each other’s minds fueled hearts by coal
So hard, so swoll, so invincible is external
Look at them bout to blow so internal
Would you look at them actually living
My observations vicarious as information I’m giving
Look at me all input but no answer
All I am is input but not the answer
Interesting scenic sway on swabs of society.
Portrayal of high fashion. Obs and such ilk have no place in the vista of kaleidoscopic train. Of amplified sexual sway.
Changing by the eras.
What would the eighteenth century say to such displays of flesh and loutish behaviours?
At this stage in humaity peasants rule the displays of street.
Oh such rancid awe. Chewing rat nails on a sluice dump.
Oh how enticing the aroma of bin.
With a deodorant of smog the land does smile under indoctrinated senses. Whilst the ten centimetre fat black and white bug plays a happy tune and the window shines its foreboding omen to the people of Seth.
It is possible to repair seams with the water from a washed up milk glass.
Oh how the frogs laugh and party under duvets of champion cabbages. Once they swirled to the ballroom bang.
EATEN.EGG.EXTRA.ENTWINNING.ENTER.ENTOMBED.ENERGY.ENSLAVED.ENCAPTURED.ENIGMATIC.ELITE.
GARDEN
She smelled like the colors
of an intricate garden in which
every geometry and every dimension,
every expression of soft composition,
had the dominant splash, the pervasive
aura, the relentlessly visible subtext
of red
Centered and rooted in the soil
of tradition, North African shawl
over white silk blouse and long black
skirt, the high Cuban heels and the sheer
black stockings, the curly black hair over
dark honey skin all smelled like the gurgling
of cold running water through the granite
canals that sparkled like sunlight broken
by motion in the highest-walled gardens
of Al-Andalus
“I’m getting older” she said
clicking her heels as they walked
toward coffee at theater intermission
where women of high fashion and girls
without clue set an aesthetic standard that
smelled like the storms at the end of October
that dislodge the leaves, the petals, the last
fruits, and render the garden a study of lost
order overwhelmed by forces without
purpose or merit
“I want you” he said,
sure that every person on the
atrium floor was fully aware that
the finest theater in the darkening shadows
was she in the red shawl and the gentleman
beside her, that she smelled like the languages
of medinas and plazas, of harems and courtyards
and the pervasive odors of espresso and wine,
perfume and tobacco, lipstick and roses, that
the breeze of her breath made him sway
with the scents of the colors of night
Shall we?” he said
and she turned, saying nothing,
began walking slowly through the
flowers and vines with the soft sexy
rhythm that only high heels can offer
And reaching their seats, this alluring
composition of red breezes and smells
and Mediterranean gardens of poetry and
song, mother of his children and the
personification of all he know about plants,
kissed him lightly on the lips and looked
toward the stage “Yes we shall” she softly
whispered like a nocturnal breeze
in a garden where the walls smell like
oranges and jasmine and the
color of red
My first pair paved the way
to explore my small world-
as toddler in laced shoes.
Such years of happy feet
walking in varied shoes
finding a larger world.
Then high-fashion shoes
entered my teen years
saddles shoes or flats
under poodle skirts
all thru the Fifties.
Grand Wedding Day!
White shoes floated
down church aisle
to my true love.
Five grand-kids
three children-
paced by me
in shoes
full of
love.
August 26, 2016
Diminished Hexaverse: A poem containing stanzas of 5 lines, then 4 lines, then 3 lines, then 2 lines, ending with one word. The syllables in each stanza correspond to the number of lines, for example, 5 in each line in the first stanza, 4 in the second stanza, and so on. This form may contain more than five stanzas. My poem has six stanzas.
Elegance Charm And Grace.
.
Elegance charm and grace
Decadence with a photogenic beauticians idealistic face
Stylish fashion a portrayal of high class Ladies at the time
For those of means and the modernistic trendy mind
The social butterfly the belle of the ball
Statuesque sensually curvaceous leggy and tall
The scent of Esther Lauder wafting from warm smooth skin
Silk and satin lingerie from gay Paris and Berlin
The visage cover girl of the high fashion magazine
Of the ideal look manicured and immaculately preened
Inspiring eye catching and debonair
The girl with the ‘It ‘girl glare.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
Sent Back to
Grow Cold and Fear Darkness
Running through Hills,
Island Hopping
and Writing about it.
Spoke funny,
Dressed in high Fashion
Dancing upon Horses -
Slaughtering men and
Growing kings.
We Painted fields
as Grain Packing coal
using Women,
not slaves but
Damn Close.
Remember the Water?
Found land below.
Sending plans to dispatch,
those Bound with
All Our Excuses.
Worship the Sun,
Sacrifice good soldiers,
Cut ties with Earth,
Find no answers
to do us all over again.
Well and here I am in New York City
looking like I just stepped out of Vogue
and the confidence I display screams GQ
in these and those studio photos and
many high fashion magazines then it's off
to Hollywood to try my luck on the silver
screen...well I've never been so tired, I’ve
never felt so good, sitting in the back of this
long black Limousine, seeing my name in
lights and hearing my name shouted out by
God knows how many people and it sounds
like a symphony to me...well I love it, I love it
I'm just afraid I'll wake up any minute now
and none of it would've been true, I guess
when success comes that fast to small town
people like me it's natural to feel that way, I
guess I should just relax and enjoy it come
what may as I travel down this ole Yellow
brick road with all my heart 'cuz after all
how can you hide a fire in the dark or the
Birth Of A Star!