Best Pantyhose Poems
8MILE8MILE . . . . . STYLE . . . . 8MILE8MILE
I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind but no matter where
I go I see them same old hoes
BRING DA BEAT c’mon, c’mon, c’mon HERE WE GO
YEA YEA YEA
They be warin old clothes, exposin them busted ass toez in fishnet pantyhose
They be standin in rowz, striking that silly old pose, workin them same two
Joes
So the rumor grows, and everybody knows, that her name is rose, we know
rose blows
DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE, YEA YEA YEA
She got fired from LoweZ, ’cause she stole a garden hose, spent all the money
at Moe’Z
Yea - Moe’Z ho clothes and fishnet hose, down at 52nd and StrowZ, traffic
really slows when she bends to expose, she get dirt on them knees, when she
blows
DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE YEA YEA YEA
AND THE COP SHOWZ
UP, UP, UP, EVER’BODY UP, C’MON UP, C’MON UP
YEA YEA YEA
She putz the powder up her nose, didn’t pay the fine she owez, gives a
discount to the bros
Ever’body froze, then the streetlight glows, that’z the way it goes, for all them
bimboz
Same for the hoes, az it is for the bros, all the way from Melrose to the
chicagos
And it’s still the same for the Souix and them Navahoes, UH YEA UH YEA
SHOUT OUT TO ALL MY PEEPZ IN THE POCONOS
YEA YEA YEA I’M OUT
OUT ROLLIN ON THAT 8 MILE ROOOOAD
8MILE8MILE . . . . STYLE . . . . 8MILE8MILE
written by
Warner Baxter
One Knight Stand Productions
all rights reserved
The function of a human hand?
Writing a message, making a bed,
Opening a jar, dialing a phone,
Putting on pantyhose,
Touching the face of a child,
Or a lover.
And in its absence?
Yawning space and phantom pain,
And an oddly-shaped bandage
At the end of Angie’s arm.
PFC Hernandez, home in El Paso,
Watches her family watching her,
Writing awkwardly with her left hand,
Brushing her black wavy hair,
Watching Dr. Phil
Wearing an old gray-green T-shirt
Bearing the faded words
“Proud to be a Marine.”
Gasping and choking,
She wakes from thick, dusty dreams
Of shimmering, endless sand,
Unfamiliar words
Echoing hollow with hatred,
And the feared but half expected
Roar of fiery amber heat,
Breaking the angry stillness,
Searing through the night
And Angela’s right hand.
~
There once was a young Brit, Robin Hood,
Plundered bad folks and gave to the good,
He loved armor and knights,
But was quite fond of tights,
And decided to wear them for good ...
Now, sweet Nottingham, taken aback,
For his pantyhose took too much flak,
Thus dressed like a fairy,
With men, far too merry,
And not near enough gold ... in his sack.
~
~ 5th Place ~ in the "A Limerick, Old Or New: Your Personal Favorite" Poetry Contest, Andrea Dietrich, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Limerick 3" Poetry Contest, Joseph May, Judge & Sponsor.
(Syllable count = 9,9,6,6,9 x 2, counted @ HowManySyllables.com)
Dedicated to My Son, The Bedtime Kissy-Keeper Giver
Like a virgin to stressed messes surging,
I struggled with bridges on parental ridges
when I wore both mom and work britches.
Young years adhered pleasure steered twitches
but grown changes sewed pressure stitches.
I changed to a day and night striving
female getter-doner; an energizer twit-nit
who conquered to-do lists into done bits.
I became every weekday employee,
pay postured towards green seen garnered.
I was more a get-byer than I was a
future green funds keen accumulator.
Nightly, I morphed into dinner’s meal cooker
still dressed in work time's pantyhose stress.
I dreamed of a pajama seamed frame
before next becoming a kitchen mess cleaner,
homework tutor, tub time clean scrubber and
loving night-nighttime book reader.
I found no awakes take was sweeter
than my child’s beddy-bye kissy keepers
and prayed my son’s most precious styled love
would counter the stresses that I was made of.
A lady with a weak bladder*
Thought nothing could make her madder
But Heaven knows
Her pantyhose
Revealed a soaking-wet ladder!
*Weight gain stretches bladder muscle causing
leakage. The French strengthen bladder muscle by
blowing up balloons. The Japanese prefer sitting on
a wooden stool and repetitiously lifting their legs level
to the floor, but the quickest results are achieved by
the Manx Method developed by avid researcher Jan
Allison, which consists of standing on one's head
and farting along with the 1812 Overature!
It’s back to school, hip hip hooray
I’m so glad to be back today
I’ve got my bag and all my books
And practiced intellectual looks
Today’s first session is Miss Hughes
She’s five foot three in low heel shoes
Slim as any girl I’ve seen
She’s something like a beauty queen
The blackboard is a little high
But five foot three means ‘my o my’
She takes the chalk and there she goes
Stretching up on tippy toes
And goodness how my ardour grows
It’s stockings, not just pantyhose
I nearly see her ‘not-to-mention’
Which gets my absolute attention
She says, ‘Can you see, at the back’
I’m feeling my composure crack
I feel my heartbeat getting faster
She turns and says, ‘Oh Hi, Headmaster.’
14 September 2022
Contest: Back to School
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Oh, my gosh, I’m freaking and feel such dread.
What the hay is this nonsense on my head?
I can’t go to work, can't enter the office!
I will be seen, visible to peers and bosses,
be the fool who provided entertainment gossip.
God, please, send help, I am stress-nauseous.
I do not care about appearing faultless,
but I'd rather errantly tuck a dress in my hose
and walk through the office cluelessly exposed
than have everyone think this is what I choose.
I wonder if I should call in with a case of ugly,
hire someone to gently, but effectively mug me?
Perhaps I'll get pulled and cuffed on the roadside
for publicly exposing the ugliest hair ever dyed.
Shame a wig class wasn't at business school:
"How to Avoid Looking Like the Office Fool."
I look like a horrified, horror movie hostess.
Even my own mirror is refusing to focus.
Here I am, paler than even fresh new snow,
with midnight black hair grooving to and fro.
My very first dye and, oh my, I could just die!
Box said ‘brown’, now I'm so down, I might cry.
Universe, please – send a natural disaster,
nothing fatal, it's just one repair day I’m after.
Ballad of Smorgasbord Cat
Once upon a hot July night
Smorgasbord Cat was born, not right.
The only kitten born with clothes,
She came out wearing pantyhose.
Blue bellbottoms when she turned eight,
Made her feel insanely great.
Her siblings bullied her for fun
But she was powerful, this one.
She’s odd, her mother told her dad.
But she’s so good, and seldom bad.
Where did she get her name? He asked.
I do not know, her mother basked.
Smorgasbord Cat soon ran a club,
She sold drink and delicious grub.
Her relatives all bragged her up.
She gave them each a special cup.
That cat lived to be ninety-three.
And now just between you and me,
I admit I gave her that name.
On a bet at a poker game.
Smorgasbord Cat has her own song.
Cross-eyed face, and red tail, long.
Yes, bawdy and funny, was she.
Married five times, litters of three.
Happy, joyful lots of fun,
Smorgasbord Cat, truly best one
At her funeral everyone came.
No one knows where she got her name.
"Joe Willie Namath"
Joe Willie Namath
Super Bowl famous
shaved his football legs to sell pantyhose
wore white mink coat on sidelines for camera pose.
Broadway Joe Willie
drinking booze made him silly
on ESPN ..Suzie refused to be kissed
captured on sports video fans booed and hissed.
*For P.D.'S Clerihew Contest.
The Jets' superstar, "Joe Willie Whiteshoes,"
loved baseball, golf, women, and booze.
With bad knees and his sports career dead,
he modeled Hanes pantyhose instead!
Posted 11/5/12 Now used for New or Old 4 Contest of Eve Roper
Here is the link you can copy and paste to see
his modeling career with pantyhose!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qf3oOQq9KFU
Clerihew rhyme scheme is aabb (no set syllable pattern)
My favorite shoes? It’s wearing none!
I'll go barefoot, to have a run
I hate to lose
the joy of ooze
between my toes, some goo is fun !
I simply love my precious toes
to wiggle freely to and fro
Bound feet? Oh dear!
Don’t get me near!
A shoe is torture, and my foe!
I could not dance on twinkle toes
Could not advance my prance or pose
A barefoot stance
Is my best chance
of never needing pantyhose!
Indulge me please, I'll be carefree
Removing shoes, in company
No matter what the circumstance
I'll slip them off at every chance
I'll tuck my feet behind my chair
assuming no one is aware
A happy dance, behind my back,
is going on, and that's a fact!
I hope that you won't think to check,
and say that I have no respect
My toes are happy, to be sure
Indulge me please, but don't despair
I'm saving up for pedicures!
----------------------------------------
For Shadow Hamilton's Contest: "Indulgence"
Revised 2/4/15
I dashed off to the ladies' room
just after Sunday School was through.
The service that would soon begin,
I'd relish from my favorite pew.
As I sailed down the lengthy hall,
I felt the cool, conditioned air--
more in the back than in the front,
but I trucked on, Miss Unaware!
I reached the sanctuary door
and saw that I was not alone.
A red-faced deacon spoke to me--
few words, low voice, with gentle tone.
I spluttered "Thanks" and fled the scene
my problem to eliminate,
slinked in the back, and took a seat.
I prayed my shame would soon abate.
What lesson did I learn that day?
That, to avoid such Sunday woes,
I really must be sure my dress
is not tucked in my pantyhose.
January 3, 2021
entered in the Funny Memories Contest Placed 1st
Sponsor: Natasha L. Scragg
My friends
Will have ice cream with you in the middle of winter.
Will tell you if you have toilet papper dragging on your shoes
Will tell you if your skirt is tucked in your pantyhose.
Will bake cookies with you.
Will share there lunch money.
Will walk to the corner store with you in the freezeing cold.
Will go bungy jumping with you.
Will tell jokes with you and laugh till your ribs hurt.
I thank my friend for being there for me.
Once a witch with a wart on her nose,
And with runners in her pantyhose,
Went and traded her broom
For a Hoover vacuum.
Where she hoovered to, nobody knows.
My favorite shoes? It’s wearing none!
I'll go barefoot, to have a run
I hate to lose
the joy of ooze
between my toes. Some goo is fun !
I simply love my precious toes
to wiggle freely to and fro
Bound feet? Oh dear!
Don’t get me near!
A shoe is torture, and my foe!
I could not dance on twinkle toes
Could not advance my prance or pose
A barefoot stance
Is my best chance
of never needing pantyhose!
Indulge me please! I'll be carefree
removing shoes, in company
no matter what the circumstance
I'll slip them off at every chance
I'll tuck my feet behind my chair
assuming no one is aware
A happy dance, behind my back,
is going on, and that's a fact!
I hope that you won't think to check,
and say that I have no respect
My toes are happy, to be sure
Indulge me please, but don't despair
I'm saving up for pedicures!
__________________________
Reposted 6/10/16