Best Pantsuit Poems


Rounds of Applause

Silver nail tips nails painted black accentuated her skin.
Her pantsuit was coordinated with her accessories.
Her conversation was of political activism.
She was sharp as a tack and her mind was keen.

She was a trailblazer in her game.
Political office she would acclaim.
The members of her party gave her the highest praise.
Approbated in opinion she spoke.
She would win this campaign was everyone’s hope.

This is my time in space she stated.
As I stand amongst my people in this political forum, our way will form.
I am filled with esteem because you believe in me.
Our struggles will be over.
Strife is economical.
We are the obsolete proof in which we construct a new school of thought.

She was given an applause.
That is when she asked…
Please, may I have your attention?

{The Power House became quiet}.

We are old-fashioned people with modern ways.
We must base our advocacy on what is out-of-date.
I have unearth the treachery of immigration.
I have exhume the undisclosed knowledge of slavery.

Once in office, I will construct.
Unveil my administration to what our goals are.
This land is my land.
I am that strength and courage.
We will correct this nation’s antiquity defeating yesterday.

{The Power House stood in ovation}.
__________________________________|
Penned on May 11, 2014!

Ann and Andy Drogynous

~Ann and Andy Drogynous~
(sung to the tune of ‘Mister and Mississippi’)

She would wear a pantsuit
He wore a pink beret
Ann and Andy Drogynous
Had a neuter way.
I’d love to have their bathroom
My odor would improve
Their towels could be hanging
As paintings at the Louvre.

Oh, he would do the ironing,
Her hair does need a comb.
Ann and Andy Drogynous
Re-modeled my old home.

Until I heard them talking
I thought that he was she
Ann and Andy Drogynous
Sang alto with a glee.
He’ll be watching ‘Housewifes’
While she field dresses deer
He’ll be eating tofu
And she’ll be drinking beer.

Oh, he would do the ironing,
Her hair does need a comb.
Ann and Andy Drogynous
Re-modeled my old home.

Route of All Evil

Route of All Evil

Don't like being late
Pay my bills hate to wait
Which they obligate.

Must be better way
For my bills having to pay
I have day by day.

Heard some people shout
What we want is a handout
Will no longer pout.

Now can pay my bills
Even throw in a few thrills
They added welfare.

Was it really fair
No one no longer does care
Hard for them to bare.

Many moan and groan
We want to be left alone
Have job of their own.

To straighten out mess
Relieving all of the stress
Put on a new dress.

Evil has a root
When you will wear a pantsuit
Even if old coot.

She had been hell bent
On being next President
God to us had sent.


Had all of her charms
When welcomed with open arms
We do with school marms. 

This whole thing ought to
Prove to be quite interesting
With Bill in the wings.

Ho Ho Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.


Andrea and Great Good Looks

Andrea and Great Good Looks

About convention what we were realizing
Have never heard of anyone moralizing
Like women teachers wearing bright buckle
In pantsuit  reading my poems and chuckle.

Why cover up beauty with some sun glasses
And eat pancakes with sulfur and molasses
Knowing her smile sure seems so sweet
Mouth with kiss her husband likes to meet.

So what else is there left I can now say
Except by poems husband was blown away
And after he had read them by the books
Each one was about her great good looks.

Husband has to be laughing at this poem by now.

James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran, Poet and Old You Know what
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

My Closet

Today I decided to clean out my closet (Bad Idea)
 
In it I found:
 
A wool coat with a moth hole
Old go-go boots, one needs a new sole
 
An ugly purse made of lizard skin
Inside stained from a leaking pen
 
A baby book for each of my boys
A big box of outgrown toys
 
Three dresses that have shrunk, just hanging there
Old gardening jeans with knees worn bare
 
A bathing suit, too little, I fear
Even some old fishing gear
 
A purple pantsuit..Holy Chit
Glad nobody ever saw me wearing it
 
Some baby clothes that belonged to the kids
Potpourri jars that have no lids
 
So much junk on the floor
I can hardly close the door
 
I know I should throw it all away
But guess I'll save it for another day
 
Well, that was fun, I think with a grin
And just like that, I put it all back in

She Would Be Queen

She would be queen, oh if indeed she could
   after all, she's been where others stood.
So in control of e-mail trolls
   she believes herself far better in the know.
The queenly rule is not just a presentable display
   as her silent king makes hanky panky in the hay.
She's stern and forceful, once secretary of state
   keeping her close inner secrets on her plate.
A pantsuit-wearing globe-trotter
   with a desired rule set on her blotter.
But be sure she can be over cautious
   quite averse to taking risk for fear of losses.
Negotiate she did and will
   but haven't we already taken the same  bitter pill?
Too many historic clans 
   hold the path to freedom's stand
Just two hundred years have come
   the dynasty and monarchy never seems undone
They return and take control again
   and to the power  throne ascend.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member My Life Told By My Clothes

Age One to five,
diaper, t-shirt, panties, petticoat, dress, hair ribbon,
Six to ten
car coat, patent leather shoes, apron, white pedal pushers, ruffled top,
Eleven to fifteen
Liz blouse, go-go boots, faux leather jumper,
bellbottoms, polyester pantsuit,
Sixteen to twenty
shirt dress, blue jeans, two piece swimming suit,
dark gray coat with rabbit collar, diamond ring,
Twenty-one to Twenty-five
fancy lingerie, maternity top, short shorts, zigzag dress,
burgundy leather coat with white fox collar with matching fox hat,
Twenty-six to Thirty
suits with skirts, high heel shoes, pink ski coat with white faux fur collar, dressy dresses, sandals,
Thirty-one to Thirty-five
ruby ring, diamond necklace, opal ring, moonstone pendant, emerald ring,
Thirty-six to Forty
diamond cocktail ring, fancy turquoise bracelet, pearl earrings, slacks, Girl Scout leader uniform,
Forty-one to Forty-five
purses, floral scarves, sweat pants, diamond necklace, ruby ring,
Forty-six to Fifty
opal pendant shaped like a bear, silver strand necklace,
fancy tops with rhinestones, knitted hats, knitted scarves,
Fifty-one to Fifty-Five
handmade sweaters, one pair of blue jeans, jackets, tank tops, I love Grandma sweatshirt,
Fifty-six to Sixty
one piece swimming suits, fluffy socks, pajamas, fuzzy robes, elastic waist line pants,
Sixty-one to Sixty-five
hoodies, tennis shoes, fancy bag, one pair of blue jeans, pajamas
Sixty-six to Sixty-Eight
long sweater like we wore in the late sixties, bell bottom pants I found last year in a store, and paint clothes because I am an artist and when I am not writing poems, I am painting canvases.

Great and So Robust Horn Limerick

Great and So Robust Horn Limerick

She was really great and so robust;
Forever after her I want to lust;
Dream of mine who is really cute;
Looks great in skirt or a pantsuit;
But me with our money does not trust.

Right dear!!!

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Christian Dior Pantsuit

I'm the king of the ball in my Christian Dior pantsuit
With accessories by Donald and Goofy in cahoots
Not a well known fact
Their designs fill the racks
Of poets and poetesses here on the Soup

Premium Member Brief Herstory By Man

slithering through a suffragette smattering
the serpentine has no shoulder
on which to give 
or have taken 
piggyback rides through pantsuit criterion
so certainly lacks the same of which to dry witch salt tears with

whirling up and around then down up her ankle
thick thick thigh 
deliciously dry coconut shunt
lipstick cracking
open pistachio shells

bravo to the mercenaries!
    at least the split is red enough to pull the lever
                                           and 
 			            spill how
                  women got their seat 
                  at the 
baccarat table

Gospel Truth

This is a Rondine in pentameter

Never say never my darling Betty.
I think past sweet words have been a good  start
and know they’re ingress to a woman’s heart
Would you like to rest on this soft settee,
there is no danger its firm and steady.
Gospel truth, in pantsuit you look so smart.
Never say never.
I saw you, dear, at Tavern Gramercy.
In Effie Silk Dress you were piece of art,
I could have torn your lucky date apart.
The Maitre d' had your table ready
Never say never.

When Hillary Wore a Pantsuit

When Hillary Wore A Pantsuit

When Hillary was around my heart would pound
Wanted to hear voice having a soft sweet sound
And fell in love as soon as I saw fluttering eyes
Surely within them there would never be no lies.

Saw her fine lips and them so often had tasted
Now not a second in time wanted to be wasted
Always desired presence close and near to me
So what I then did was to marry her instantly.

Time flew by while I wondered where it went
Next thing I knew she had become President
And of all evil I finally found its terrible root
It was when Hillary was wearing a pantsuit.

Ho Ho Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Hectic Than Lethargic

Hectic Than Lethargic 

Hillary said that writing her
new book was cathartic like
me writing my poems.

After things had really become hectic,
Learned I looked like I was lethargic;
Been inevitable;
Forgot vegetable;
Writing my poems can be cathartic.

Jim Horn

When Hillary Wore A Pantsuit
When Hillary Wore A Pantsuit

When Hillary was around my heart would pound
Wanted to hear voice having a soft sweet sound
And fell in love as soon as I saw fluttering eyes
Surely within them there would never be no lies.

Saw her fine lips and them so often had tasted
Now not a second in time wanted to be wasted
Always desired presence close and near to me
So what I then did was to marry her instantly.

Time flew by while I wondered where it went
Next thing I knew she had become President
And of all evil I finally found its terrible root
It was when Hillary was wearing a pantsuit.

Ho Ho Hum Jim Horn
Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2016
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Christian Dior Pantsuit

King of the runway in my Christian Dior pantsuit
Accessories as well right down to the boots
Not a well-known fact
These designs fill my racks
A poet of sophistication in this limerick loupe

Premium Member Helen Reddy Leads the Charge

I am woman hear me roar
Helen Reddy
1970's
I cannot hear it often enough
The NOW movement
She has unwittingly penned the feminist anthem
I think it is in the bag
To this day
I cannot believe women stopped the Equal Rights Amendment. 
I listen to this record and I am awed
Every single time
Picturing Helen Reddy singing it
Wearing her pantsuit,
Showing us we can be powerful
Bringing us into the throes of the equality battle
Giving me hope
She would love seeing where Kamala Harris is now....

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