Best Scantily Poems
Going through some old things that just had to go,
I came upon something that nearly got tossed.
Memories came to me from long ago. . . .
I thrilled that my treasure was no longer lost.
Toys come and toys go. In the 60’s, one fad
was to own an odd doll not seen much today.
This doll had long hair and was scantily clad
but wasn’t a Barbie with which I would play!
Its body was squat and it had a pug nose.
I probably loved it because it looked droll.
Its hair could be orange, green, yellow or rose,
but if you don’t know yet, that doll was a troll!
How I wish I could dredge up some memory
to know what was happening inside my head
as a pre-teen with friends and what it might be
that we did with those dolls and what fun things we said!
The trolls that I owned must have been at least four -
both sexes so they'd make a small family -
their hair different hues, each a doll to adore.
But one day they no longer mattered to me. . .
I can’t say where all of my playthings got stashed.
When I left for college, they vanished from view.
But knowing my mom, they must have got trashed.
She doesn’t hang on much to things like I do.
Now four decades later, I looked at my prize,
bare naked and smudged but its hair still jet black.
It stared up at me with its cute amber eyes.
I couldn’t believe how I got that thing back!
It somehow had ended up in my new state.
Good luck for that troll, I throw few things away!
That doll would be learning soon of its new fate
and meet other troll dolls with whom it would stay.
Just like Peter Pan, I refuse to grow old,
and new trolls I’d bought with long bright spiky hair
when troll dolls again in the 90's were sold!
But I had to recall where I’d stored them….. oh, where??
(I found the dolls and added the old one to the new collection,
but my daughter's family moved in with me a few months ago.
My daughter is a clean freak like MY mom is (apparently it skips
a generation or something), and my daughter took my troll dolls
and put them out of sight somewhere so currently they are floating
around who knows where!
For Paula Swanson's "Yard Sale" Contest
Do people think you are sleazy and bad,
since the day you replied to that want ad?
The words were in black and white, and plain.
“No Experience Necessary, We Train”.
This job is not what most women would like to get,
However, it pays the bills and keeps you out of debt.
You live in a nice house, and drive a Corvette.
Of all the occupations anyone can seek,
there are not too many paying two grand a week.
They hired you for what came naturally.
Men easily discover your great beauty.
You have the looks of a centerfold in a magazine.
Your dancing in the club makes quite a scene.
A fight with your old man made him pack and go away.
He left you and your child unexpectedly one day.
You were desperate and needed a job right away.
It seems nobody was impressed with your resume.
Other employers apparently could not be convinced.
So many places only wanted experienced.
When you are dancing in the club each night,
men from all over think you are a delight.
Scantily clad, you erotically tease.
This is how you gather your gratuities.
Some men get obnoxious, and a bit out of hand.
Enforcers appear to take a stand.
A small team of bouncers comes out to greet.
The mashers land in the middle of the street.
Never mind what people think is wrong or right.
Many men like me will be seeing you tonight.
The winged god Zephyrus, handsome and graceful
gently flapped his wings, gliding across the meadows.
His eyes fell on naked youths splashing at play
in the sparkling water of a deep wide pool, sheltered
by willow trees, where fragrant flowers bloomed.
He slowed his flight and looked with lust and admiration.
On the green grass he espied a tender youth;
athletic and beautiful was this young Spartan prince,
scantily dressed, playing his flute with nimble touch.
Zephyrus’ heart fluttered and leapt; he could not help
falling deeply in love with beautiful Hyacinth.
Little did he know that he was already being
courted by Apollo! Out of sight he lay in wait
then made his move and sought him out at sunset.
He approached him and with golden words he tried
to tempt his heart, but all in vain. Though impressed,
Hyacinth remained firm and faithful to Apollo.
That night, Zephyrus many restless hours spent
alone, ignoring Chloris’s sexual charms.
Entangled thoughts engulfed his frenzied mind,
jealousy clawed at his heart, tore deep within.
Dawn arrived, and bleary eyed he hastened forth
towards the hills, in search of calm respite.
Alas, it was not meant to be; envy reared its head
with poisoned fangs that sent him reeling mad.
Emotions changed from red to green, and in despair
he flew high up, aimlessly circling in the sky.
Then all at once, upon a verdant field below,
he caught sight of Hyacinth and Apollo
playfully engaged in discus throwing.
The green-eyed monster lunged and with swift intent
Zephyrus blew a gust of wind that swerved the discus
from its route and it hit Hyacinth on the head
resulting in instant death. Jealousy prevailed.
Furious yet heartbroken, Apollo held Hyacinth
tightly in his arms, blood dripping from his temple;
and with one last act of love he changed that blood
into a most beautiful flower called Hyacinth.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Contest: Epic Only
Sponsor: Skat A
Placed 3rd
The world in 100 years ... Oh, perish the thought
Former President, Ronald Dump, who was cryogenically frozen following his assassination after winning the ‘No Bull’ Peace Prize in December 2018, has been successfully defrosted.
Ronald Dump recently defeated his son, former President Barrrrron Van Dump, in the lunar by-election. President Dump will be taking up his forty year term at his office-in-the-round penthouse suite at ‘Lunar-Tic Towers’. This magnificent golden palace-like structure is situated on the fringes of the 29th bunker on the dark side of the moon. Naturally, it is a member’s only golf club and entry is strictly by special invitation only. It will be staffed by scantily costumed Honey-Bunny girls and models who the Dump handpicks. They will attend to every need and whim of his guests, unless he requires their expertise "handling."
President Dump will be supported by his android wife, Argenta, (humanoid model number 3060 with real hair and life-like body parts) who superseded the old model 'Milionairluva', who sadly could not be revived due to silicon and botox poisoning which ran rampantly throughout her Barbie doll body
The Lunar-Tic Towers will be totally off limits to the paparazzi so there can be no photographs taken of the Irn Bru brewing facility of his favourite drink which was banned in Scotland. He seeks to insure that no "fake news" stories are leaked by the press.
In his bid to tackle rising unemployment, currently standing at 99.6%, Dump will be advised by his new best friend and strategist, Kym Dung Hung Lo. This humanitarian almost obliterated the human race by detonating a nuclear warhead at the Dung Hung Lo Toy Factory which was caused when Dung Hung Lo threw his dolly out of the pram. So impressed by such a move, Dump hired him and invited Dung Hung Lo to be his number 2 to succeed him.
May God bless the earth, what little is left of her .. she needs all the help she can get with these two lunar tics in charge
6/1/18
100 year Contest sponsored by Brian Davey
Now let me be the first to hasten to say,
And all your smirks and snide remarks allay,
That I've never darkened the door of a cabaret,
Where exquisite damsels are on display!
But (I'm told) they don't wear fancy tutus like in a ballet.
Heavens no! They're scantily clad (I'm told) and they sway!
And of their practiced gyrations (I'm told) there's quite an array!
Their hugging that pole (I'm told) will certainly spin your toupee!
They must be on guard (I'm told) to keep lecherous geezers at bay!
A few bucks slipped in their cleavage (I'm told) is their meager pay!
Shucks! This has piqued my interest - I must check it out some day!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 3 in Miranda Lambert's "Burlesque Boutique" Contest - April 2011
Lethargic and listless
lacking all zest,
I lie on the rocks
under the blazing sun.
The calm sea kisses
the rocky shore,
but no sea breeze
breathes on me.
The salt on my back
basks and bakes
and turns an ugly red.
Nothing to it but jump
back into the cool sea,
tempting the jellyfish
to sting my feet.
But on the beach
the newly crowned queen,
the one who scorns me,
parades herself
scantily dressed,
all eyes riveted on her.
I wonder who's worse:
herself or the jellyfish!
So what is different
The vagrant limps across the careening snow
Scantily unkempt
From inside the bank with glittering glass
I watched him pass
Carried by the flow
Of that dilapidated mass
For whom tolls the jingling bell
And toll, and toll ignored again
My heart
Shunning the superficial cheer
Left all I heard
Devoted to a pilgrimage of eyes
Where the fire glows warm
And hope gathers moth-like
I see him push, and pushing through
Put out his arms to touch the tired flame
As though an angel had troubled it
Or perhaps a rudimentary manger
And Christ so far from it
While he sleeps secure on warm
On the bank floor
Under the beautiful Christmas tree.
I walked away
Full of grief and empty
While behind me toll, and toll again
The jingling bells of the Salvation Army.
O Mary, hail us not as Joseph in this despair
Nor magnify too much your feat
He too has swollen and blistered feet
And I volatile from the pilgrimage
Ask questions of my faith
Tell me, for all the change from manger to cross,
What is different now from then?
I remember the excitement,
that hung in the air,
dressing up to go trick r treating,
yelling at the doors,
open up if you dare.
the frenzy that came with,
picking who to be,
and mothers fretting,
about what we might see.
it was all so fun and innocent,
but now its all changed,
and trick r treating,
isn't the same.
we no longer get,
our favourite sweets,
parents these days,
favour healthy treats.
oh how I wish,
to go back in time,
when the scariest thing,
was a witch saying a silly rhyme.
where ghosts were sheets,
and little girls were princesses,
not scantily clothed,
as tempting seductresses.
this is the Halloween I love the most,
where it was fun,
and full,
of phantom ghosts.
I remember reading a short story by Hitchcock. Three friends walk and converse as they make their trek home from work. Huddled in mind,
independently fearless, the cold air or hot night baring their souls.
crows on line watching
remembering silhouettes -
chalk line to be drawn
Three, two, one - for one must eventually walk alone. Walking the line, confident, aware of every shadow, lurking, stillness jumps out.
Hesperus midnight
moon scantily clothed in shroud
clicking of high heels
Let go the chain, the arm-in-arm armor. Pallor of countenance as pinking blush of rush hour fades into dusk. You can almost see fingertips reaching out, moving away.
vertiginous spin
heightened intensity fights
thundering heartbeats
One, why her? All alone. Path is familiar and unknown. She spots someone near her residence. She runs like a stallion. Her horseshoes clip clopping on cobblestone. Key shaking, cranking, releasing. Safe.
Safe in a prison, of sorts. Safe, wrapped in her place of warmth.
the rocking chair creeks
only for a little while -
shower curtain shrieks
Each lady found a friendly front door and the backside; that closed out the cold or was it warm air? The third lady, warming her tea, hears the clearing of a throat behind her…
the stories complete
but my imagination
runs away with me
Now, I’ve told this tense tale, as I remember it. Three, two, one,
the ladies parted ways. Two will meet again, but the last one, ripped from the pages of time, lingers.
suspension of peace -
invalid looks through window
placed there by Hitchcock
Drift through the ephemeral sea of fantasy
When the ink melts, the pen behaves scantily
Dewdrops are our delight, fresh and pearly
My lack of chatter protects me from vanity
However, I am not a hopeless case of insanity
I'm buried, however, in my distorted chastity
Treatment for emotional clarity and sanity.
Written: December 27, 2022
BRIAN STRAND no 1165 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
Julius Caesar Act 1, Scene 3
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
( From that to this, youth, poetry and into aged mind )
In Youth, Beauty That Sets Eager Hearts To Flutter
Sea waved at scantily-clad sunning girls
breeze gifted cooler winds in soothing swirls.
Sand, bikini, colors the beach adorn
great was blessed views on that July morn.
Laughter, joy and loud play, call for the day.
Clear blue sky defeats world's sad morbid grey.
Picnic and fun- as early summer treats
innocent youth, deeper mysteries greets.
Beauty that sets eager hearts to flutter
as silent prayers, hopeful teen boys mutter.
Laughter, joy and loud play, call for the day.
Clear blue sky defeats world's sad morbid grey.
As racing sun, bright radiance gifted
thoughts of Love, romance many hearts lifted.
Cool waters waving, and hearts swift beating
Cupid shot arrows, Desires were heating.
Laughter, joy and loud play, call for the day.
Clear blue sky defeats world's sad morbid grey.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-02-2020
Rhyme (Time And Its Magnificently Long Flowing Arc)
Note:
"Quod Perpetuus in suo circulo, praesentes vero illud omnino sacra et sacrificia
bona spe esse donari invenire poterit et beneficiis. "
Once I tried
to embrace a cascade
A steep descent of a slim river
With a soft
regalia of steps
but she sprinkled scantily on me
But I was
aroused, flushed and reddened.
Enjoying her warm and soft impact
Before she
became a cataract
with strong undercurrents and deep holes.
+++
October 31, 2014
Form: Parallelogram de Crystalline
Dr.Ram Mehta
Fifth Place Win
Contest: some form of crystalline by nette onclaud
When the circus was in Yorkshire recently
a local man watching a rehearsal of
a scantily dressed, large bosom blond lion tamer,
inside the cage with a massive male lion,
was asked
“Would you do that” By a passing circus hand.
“Yes” Replied the local,
“Get the lion out”!
Anon.
Revived and added to,
© Harry J Horsman 2012
See-saw this way to see the Sea Light. Big Stellar Light to guide my way. As if on an obstacle course one stray night. A path forbidden and not by love or fruity nectar. Along the long dirt curvy path going towards a strong ascending big light which beckons to the moor. On the way crossed the paths of barking pitbulls. Thought at once to have crossed over walking into the light. However, as soon as the thought came it went astray winding to the edge of a river enbankment. Yet, hearty brush kept me still and from falling inward at once to a dark and surely cold invitation not welcome. Hearty barks of dogs plaused me with much force to fill the air with threatening venom yet an invisible wall up they did not move towards me. Barks of trees hither and fro to scantily jump over and now on the [ath again. All the while the sound of music pulsates and reverbates louder and louder as I entrance its nearness. The lyrics echo out, "Bring a fifth, bring a fifth, bring a fifty." On the deck now to song and dance. Yahts galore to dazzle the river. Twinkled white light ropes to cascade the riverbed. My thoughts eternal to think of such a night are as follows: "You did everything tonight, you did everything just right!"
She’s asleep and does not hear
The creaks and shuffles entering in,
Corners stand in contrast to
The figures moving ‘round.
Darkness is a bleak covering for
eyes covered and enshrouded,
Stealthily they stand in shadows,
Plotting their misdeeds.
Slowly turning from the depth
Of sleep which surrounds,
Ill attuned to her physical world,
Unlimited dreamscapes soaring.
Is she alive? Did they leave?
She never heard or saw it coming,
How still she lay, statuesque
And scantily clad.