Best One Size Fits All Poems
I play like a girl, I hit like a girl
You say I throw like a girl,
And when I run -- I run like a girl!
All that plus more, enjoy this one-size-fits-all
Who and what I want comes from being strong
Classy and fabulous, this is my song!
I've been told, cut to size
The world is dark and gray when life becomes an insult
Take heed when I speak my mind,
I am tough, outstanding, and beautiful!
Move ahead --- say it twice, I smell nice
A taste of Cool Water and Justice Perfume
I have a non-stop multitask fixation
As a woman, everything about me is hidden
Magic and alluring are the only joy you'll need
I'm empowered at this moment!
Endorsing Myself, with a certain sorta mystique
I deliver an independent will,
Don't ever underestimate my physique
I am a caregiver, a female who won't give up the fight
I remain firm and believe all women have equal rights
I walk and talk Like A Girl
Wearing heels breaking the sounds of Wedding Bells
I am, Mona's unforgettable smile, standing tall Like Miss Liberty
I am, Betsy America's #1 designer, I am you and full of life.
The sound in your eyes isn't listening!
You imagine I am weak -- not strong enough -- brave enough,
You call me different and difficult!
Still, you want my warmth -- my love -- my attention
I am not less, I am more
I am a woman -- I frown -- I cry -- I hurt and yell at the universe
Nevertheless, I make a difference, like a girl, I smile
A smile, never seen or felt before, both defined and undefined
Your heart will ask and implore for more
Like a girl, I'll drive you wild, looking pretty "You're In Love!"
My Self-confidence comes from who I am deep inside
Everything I've become follows the makeup on my face
Bare and nude, I am the Madonna flowering the mood
At the end of every day, I have one other thing to say
The Next Time You ask me to cook and clean
Because you think, I belong in the kitchen
You better believe I'm doing it my way
LIKE A GIRL
Don’t take a walk after a large glass of tea
If someone says, “sure take as many as you want”
They probably don’t mean it
Darling you are sooo sweet I could never get angry with you,,,okay this one is self
explanatory
One size fits all-ohh puleeese
Help yourself to anything in the kitchen,,I really thought I meant it
Going 65 through a curve marked for 45 is just stupid, but exciting
Feelings are fickle
When in doubt, a sincere look and slow shake of the head seems intelligent
It will only take a minute,,,,yeah well Im countin by the long hand not the short one
If you climb that high are you sure you can get down, sure on the way
Up is different then sure at the top
Being really cold and getting into a hot shower and feeling
The warm water melt through you is better than sex,,,,okay its been a long time
The second time around is better
It will only hurt for a minute, then let me pinch you until it stops
Make up covers a world of hurt, but then it goes in the cracks and your
Face looks like a drought hit it
Friends that will laugh with you, cry with you, and never give up on you are
~priceless~
Wisdom comes from practice not from age
A good mood is a choice, okay most of the time
A snack to a teenager can be the roast you cooked for dinner
When you fuss at your kid then sit down and find no
Toilet paper,,,,there’s a problem
The beauty of diversity..
All shall join hands..
Come together as humanity..
One size fits all..
It matters not what size one wears..
Differences in race and culture..
Is the epitome of universal love..
There exists no hierarchy..
As the beauty of diversity is unique..
The uniqueness is what sheds light on unity..
There is no better ..
There is no best..
All is equal..
All is one ..
All is the breath of life..
As each and every single life is precious..
As the melting pot is filled with blessings..
We are all sacred..
It matters not ..
Where one is born..
We are all born with the loving light of the Creator..
May all of our love and light ..
Bring forth peace and harmony..
All shall join hands..
Unity..
As we continue to come together as humanity..
Drop cloth dreams
It has been found that given enough time
failure will find this destined loser
lurking in gallery tints
and watercolor fault lines
semi gloss replaced by flat
Painting abstract nothings
on a canvas made of words
Broken brushes stain the existing
balance with a voice that collects the remnants
speaking tarnished silver when silence should be golden
Pop art wastelands of dotted balloons
float above the ground where his face falls,
shamed and hidden, in plain sight
with eyes holding quarters of bygone years
melting clocks keep time with his idiocy
Impressionists laugh at his existence
in muted tone chuckles and turpentine snickers
Stretched on easels of dislodged glances
with splattered smocks tied in double knots
one size fits all
This palette of mixed memories
resting on mainstream notions, waits
for the end is sure to come
finding him alone with an empty imagination
and nothing but drop cloth dreams
6/1/17
For the JUNE PREMIERE CONTEST Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
I took a deep breath
And reached into the bag of my heart.
Before I exhaled.
I took a step in thought.
This gift I have for you, it's not like I have a receipt for it.
Hoping that you'll like the one size fits all kind of moment.
A gift straight from the heart in the promise of watching your face melt in anticipation.
A moment carefully thought out.
A moment I watched everything I thought would never find me.
Stare back at me and breathe life back into me.
Before I exhaled.
I retraced the step I took in mind and decided to give you the whole bag
Hoping you'd understand how much thought I put into giving you my heart
Without hesitation or pause, mindful that no matter what happens.
My heart will always be safe in your grasp
Wrought liquid metal, hued in the fire's of hell,
Pored into a castings shell, then hammered well,
By the angry fists of Satan himself, behold the skeleton key.
Accursed by evil's malevolent spell, one size fits all,
No locked doors can resist against its turnings twist,
Opening unto the supernatural's mystical power, and unlocking
Humanity's hidden passages and darkest corridors,
Leaving no secrets left unspoken or in silence.
Crimson blood spewing forth from corrupted key holes, oozing
Downwards unto the floor below, staining ancient
Tapestries of the royal gentries, and the upper classes refined.
Skull to the cross bones, it possesses a will of its own,
A vile living entity, with its own consciousness.
Molding, reshaping itself at pleasures dark whim,
Feasting on hatred's malice, then releasing it unto the world
Of men.
A twisted wanton thing, laughing with intentions cruelties,
And relishing in our agonies pain.
But *****sapiens are a curious species, never realizing when to
Leave things well enough a lone.
We must know what lies beyond that forbidden
Door, where mankind is not allowed to trespass.
In these dark places of shadows ethereal, it rocks in a fetal
Ball, a creature, waiting to be disturbed, go then seek what lurks therein,
If you dare, only the key knows what it really is, and it laughs,
At our ignorance, mocking us in the darkness.
Four it is the beast, chained and shackled within our worst
Nightmares, a fierce devilish demon, that pierces through the
Darkest of night, to hunt the innocent souls of wayward men.
You've have ventured to far, beyond thy safety zone of no return.
Four death lies in those reddened eyes that watch you within
The darkness.
If you move it will attack, motions movements attracts
Attentions reactions, so remain frozen there is no safety's retreat
Thou'art trapped, again the key so laughs in the abyss,
Mocking at humanity's ignorance.
Shaking with anticipations glee, it begs the next
User to place it into the key hole, of the unknown, come along
Now what can it hurt, just one little peek, let’s look beyond the crimson
Door, as the skeleton key heckles with unbridled happiness.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
PANTS TOO LONG*
I'm just a little short guy
and sometimes I don't fit
Not into society but
into the clothes I buy, to wit:
Shirt sleeves come in 32/33
but the 33 just doesn't fit me.
I could go custom but then you see
I'd pay a lot for a 32 sleeve.
So I'm stuck with a size that's just
too big for me.
And socks are worse, for sizes aren't just two.
They come "one size fits all" but none will
fit on you.
They stretch from 6 to 12 and if you're
less or more
there's nothing left for you
in the whole darn big store.
I bought some bedroom slippers
just the other day
And to the clerk I'd say, "I need an 8 and
I will pay"
But the clerk would then reply,
"It's 8/9, no 8 on any day."
My waist at 35 inches is fine but
no pants on a rack can fit.
And 34 and 36 are in a line but the length
we'll have to omit.
So it's to a tailor I must go or to
a high-end store.
Off I went to the nearest Mall
and looked at shirts marked
Large, Medium and Small.
They even had XL and XXL and
everything for the very tall.
Those sizes don't make sense
for "small" just ain't made for gents.
So I must go to "Custom Joe" or to
"Expensive Moe."
Which will really be okay
to satisfy myself, I'd say.
But just when things couldn't go wrong
I remembered that old song,
"Sam, you made the pants too long."
And that ruined the rest of my day.
*After a full day of shopping for new clothes I was completely frustrated by size choices for the little guy like me. I just had to write something.
Tommy fell off his bike and broke his bum
When he set off to find a new one
Big, tall, or one size fits all
A man he met at the mall,
offered a new bum but for a large sum
Tommy looked here, there, and everywhere
Even the stores where they sold underwear
To venders who had his back
But his bum still had a huge crack!
Something was still wrong, how very unfair
His bum was so noisy it brought him shame
It made weird noises and he got the blame
Tooting, hooting, and squeaking
when anyone started speaking
His bum sounded like a video game
When he discovered he had the loudest,
his talent made Tommy the proudest,
A butt trumpeting bold,
better than a pot gold
His sound-system backside, the best!
Sonic blasts when Tommy bent over
He picked a perfect four-leaf clover
A gas that blew him away
well into St. Paddy’s Day
A blast heard from Dublin to Dover
We charge into battle,
Everyone side by side,
Prepared for inevitability,
Through the course of the ride,
We'll get cut, we'll get hit,
We'll get smacked around often,
While our critics and enemies,
Pray that we soften,
Our most secret of weapons,
They cannot detect,
They can't buy it or steal it,
Or, for themselves, resurrect,
It's knowing, for certain,
That we will prevail,
Knowing how to succeed,
Knowing how not to fail,
Our relevant outcome,
We cannot predict,
The time, place or nature,
The fate that we picked,
You choose a direction,
And follow it through,
Use all of the power,
That's inside of you,
If this becomes habit,
A worthy addiction,
Dreams turn into life,
From mere interesting fiction,
Some call it hot air,
Or simple lip service,
From unknown results,
That make you so nervous,
Precisely, my point,
If you can't control,
Anyone or anything,
Except for your soul,
The power of one,
When squared or when cubed,
Remains just the same,
One less than two,
But add to it slowly,
No multiplication,
Your singular voice,
Has mass replication,
So, bring on the battle,
There's strength in our lot,
Enough to defeat,
The fear that we fought,
The battle is over,
And we remain standing,
Our feet have absorbed,
The force of the landing,
Our win is subjective,
To what was at stake,
Our real intentions,
Or those we forsake,
Did we attempt,
Did we progress,
Was thinking and action,
Used under duress,
What more can we ask,
But response-ability,
Set goals and plans,
Build its facility,
Push ahead, gather,
Supplies for the journey,
Including first aid,
And a one-size-fits-all gurney,
So, here is my hand,
Please take it somehow,
My other I need,
To wipe sweat from my brow,
Because one thing is clear,
Despite smoke in the air,
We'll win going away,
Proceed if you dare.
(5/2/98)
Society – me ****
Society, the straight jacket of “socially” acceptable mores,
condemning all to a “one size fits all living coffin.
Social “mores”, cultural cudgels of “independent thought”,
ballyhooing the wonders of our differences
until Society’s sycophancy rears its head in obsequious disapproval.
Societal “Class Warfare” – High Society gazing at the “Waterfront”,
the homeless wrestling the wharf rats for scraps.
Secular secessionists worshiping the gods of political pontification
while the poor listen to the rumble of empty bellies
the elected intelligentsia nudge each other at the trough.
9/21/2016
submitted to – What Is Society? - poetry contest
the only place one size fits all ~ is the main aisle of the shopping mall
well proportioned heavy or small ~ no pain in the neck if nine feet tall
I’m not interested in ‘pretty',
The television fantasy of reality,
Boxed up and bow-tied.
That pre-packaged, overpriced
Slice of life
Bought and sold by the pound
Of flesh,
That one-size-fits-all
(Except you)
Kind of beauty.
Give me flaws and faults,
Hills and valleys,
A crooked smile
And miles of interesting skin.
I don’t need made-up and maxed-out,
Sucked in or thinned down.
I want to see what’s real,
In all of its abstract
And unconventional glory:
Asymmetrical faces,
Lived-in bodies with scars
And traces of the story
Of someone who is just not quite right
For a modeling career.
I want to see the face behind the mask,
Natural-born,
Unadorned,
Non conformed.
Perfection is a myth,
Beauty is chaos.
When in Paris do as Romans do where pardon me I lost my Latin there
What is love truly like not to quench the stereo type
in clicks and cliche's let us count the ways from one liner's to hopefully the refiner
My face my mother has good taste grace please do not waste
Faint hearted love does not hurt only a shallow flirt
Fair love not everything goes in rules of the court
Next to you sugar taste like salt I wronged you it's my fault
In small houses best not to hurt the one
but forgive least that be turned to stone
Love thy neighbor a gift from above do not throw stones or live in
glass houses when push comes to shove
A many splendored thing not a splintered thing with kid's glove
One size fits all comfortably when God is your Love
For the Love of God is the truth better than the kisses of an enemy a rebuke
To love immeasurably the only measure to set us free is His pleasure
Love has everything to do with Love and contrary
to the other opposites do not attract well rarely
So when your bow you are a singing love is not blind just forgiving
So quit playing cards save your money and love your wife
looking for one choose words carefully ask a right
one will return as with promises, doves and ravens
one is wise but the other a safe haven
If you will and if it pleases how do I spell love JE SUS
A while ago someone accused my work of being nothing short of soft ****. Here is my reply.
Hypocrisy is a wonderful thing.
With words said in praise that ultimately sting
the victims of jealously's unfocused bile,
passed on by those with no sense of style.
Stealing men's words, and other men's prose,
like some new skill,
but I can only suppose,
that acceptance of violence,
and the shunning of lust,
shows me a world that ultimately must,
take pride in putting another soul down,
for being this woman instead of a clown,
with feelings and statements,
and nothing to say,
avoiding pains payment,
and choosing to pray,
to someone who hates me for all that I am,
well keep your poor judgement,
I don't give a damn.
Wonten lust and feelings suppressed
are rampant among us and should be expressed.
Not hidden away,
subjected to scorn.
Not put in a box and labelled as ****.
So if my harsh words hit home to you now,
imagine how I feel you miserable cow.
When told that my art is nothing but slime,
brings me no comfort, but at least it is mine,
and not some knock off of a dead poets work,
try finding your own voice you sad little jerk.
Then maybe I will respect your views,
but until that time comes, here is the news.
I have talent.
I have worth.
My voice will be heard to the ends of the earth.
For until someone stops me,
or my muse runs dry,
my pen will speak for all those who cry,
alone in the dark,
with no one hold,
loosing youth's spark,
afraid to grow old.
Being told they're too fat or they need bigger ****,
shopping for clothing to find nothing fits.
Where 'one size fits all' does not include you,
but sexual fetishes probably do.
So keep your opinions,
your judgmental sighs.
I don't need you near me.
I don't need your lies.
She keeps changing jeans.
The ones she like
display improper fitting.
She only feels at home
when she's not sitting.
She's spitting out everything
but what's missing.
"What does life mean?"
She asks herself
but runs away from
the answer.
Staying numb at night
becomes her favorite cancer.
She shields herself with
warm bodies and cold kissing.
"What am I missing?"
She thinks aloud
but wants no one to listen...
And on her fridays,
Her tattoos hang sideways.
She numbs away the meaning
on her skin...
And she begins..
To search for some fun,
Hoping that someone,
Will mean more than
the words she has inked in...
She tries, fails, pretends
and gets dressed again..
She keeps changing jeans.
The ones she love
are tainted and stained
on the inside.
The One size fits all
pretending to be her size.
She sighs, and hopes for
a better choice the next time.
She's a slave to seams...
The jeans whose seams
seem exactly what she
searched for.
She often wears just
long enough to hurt her.
But they're what she finds.
She wonders if there's
any other kind...
And over time...
She begins to see this
pattern as a sign...
And then my phone rings,
And she tells me some things.
Asking me for friendly
help and advice.
And I play nice...
Hoping she feels better,
Cause she's a girl I care for.
Knowing what I say is
just wasted words...
And it seems absurd...
But I try to stay sweet,
Hoping that she may see:
It takes more than
perfect jeans to be...
Complete.
She'll never know the perfect pair
with all that's underneath her hair...
Incomplete.