Best Strippers Poems
We are all strippers on a stage
choreographed of broken dreams.
Our materialistic schemes
drown values in whiskey bottles.
We are all strippers on a stage
who put down our pillow case veils,
dawned a garter belt, sold our souls
for the price of our panty hose.
We are all strippers on a stage
who can not keep with this life style:
with nights too long and days too short,
where a candle burns on both ends
a center burns out; we sell out.
We are all strippers on a stage:
vibrate and shimmer for dollars,
feed this addictive scenery.
(modified quatern)
I watch a tree fall,
I see it topple downward...
"Oh my God," I call.
The land is clear cut,
the animals cannot hide...
protest for their side.
Money is their king,
gold, silver, and diamond rings...
ruthless land strippers.
We must save the trees,
I beg and plead for help, please!...
Together - a breeze.
For "What's the Buzz" contest sponsored by Carol Brown.
I always seem to lose whenever there's emotions attached
been there and done that and I don't feel like going back
From now on my heart is cold and ignorance is bliss
Now I'm living in a world where love doesn't exist
I've been keeping myself to myself lately
There's a lot of weight on my shoulders
They say Life's a ... Well I promise I can hold her
I can do this by myself I don't need you to save me
Some will tell me there's no call for my rage
I used to be a private person until I put it all on a page
All of my hurt and emotions just came spilling out
I played my hand even if I didn’t like the hand that life was dealing out
I'm a good guy with some bad traits
I know I'm wrong for using Courvoisier and strippers to make it through my bad days
Walking through hell, but my cold heart keeps me at the right temperature
I battled some of the biggest demons, so now the devil looks miniature
I've had love, lost it and survived so I don't need it
Had hopes of writing a story with this girl just for her to say she wouldn't read it
So I learned to stop relying on others
I've got my own shoulders so I won't be crying on others
You're supposed to treasure love, but I can't open my chest
I'm keeping the little piece of my heart safe, because the world broke the rest
Lost my biological sperm donor when I was 14 and didn't even cry
So if you don't see them around me anymore there's a reason why
I made it out of hell when they expected me to burn
Now the smoke has cleared and it's my turn
I've protected my heart so Cupid will miss
I'm happy by myself now I'm living in a world where love doesn't exist
( THIS POEM REALLY SUCKS )
Timmy ate a banana and gave jim a pet frog.
Booby looked down the street at the apple
Kim told Ronnie secrets of wise men asking questions.
When does time stand moving down.
Why does gorilla`s move standing still
Can strippers clean a pose man at night
Stop in the name of garbage.
For when its told never clap your knees.
Does old dogs tell of fables on friday
When does young lads commit food
Stuff loves never dying thrust
Keep the courage to be afraid
I have traveled down many a road
I have carried my share of the load
I must now face the fact
Can't help but reflect back
As I do know it is true
I smile about a thing or two
Also in my past it’s found
Many times I have frowned
I have lived one hell of a life
Full of joy as well as strife
Never I am here to say
Have I taken life the easy way
I lived fast and rode hard
Always played the wild card
I’ve been rich and I’ve been broke
Crossed paths with all types of folks
Dealt with C.E.O.s as well as bums
Been friends with strippers as well as nuns
Known men of no faith and those who believe
Honest men as well as thieves
One thing in life I found to be true
Can’t understand until you wear the shoe
Once you put it on and wear it around
That’s when a true understanding is found
Once you understand then you are able
To play your cards at the table
As you play them you start to show
All the understanding you’ve come to know
Never give up, won't call me a quitter
My heart's like soap water, so nasty and bitter
Do it big, call me gigantic, it's going down, Titanic
Got the heart of a lion, never see me panic
Call me a mute, done things, but I'll never say
Cross me, and like a rental, you gon' pay
I'm on top of the cake, not talking icing
Got a million dollar car, but no license
Like a bad student, it got suspended
I keep moving, the law gets offended
On the road to money, never running out-of-gas
Got my foot on the pedal, can't let you pass
Never drunk driving, sober, till I reach my destination
I get money, it's an instinct, no hesitation
I ain't the energizer-bunny, but I'll never stop
'Cause I'm on a mission, like a special opt
Try me, get smacked upside-the-head, whack-a-mole
Slide on fools, like strippers do on a stripper-pole
Won't stop till it's over, I ride to the finish
My mind's focused, so watch how I win this
Asinine
The Poem
Spit and glue
Tape on glasses
Lace on wrinkled rumps
Lipstick on lizards
Ants in bee-hives
Parties in the cemeteries
Toothfairy bank robbers
Dunces in libraries.
Rhymes on caution signs
Large Letters for the deaf
and hearing aids for the blind-
Asinine.
I think, to see a cripple crabs with crutches,
bow-legged spiders with a pigeon toe-ed cat.
Or a knock-knee-ed rabbit- with a Multi-Colored Bat
Apes eating hor devours
Amish wearing Hats no-more
Imagine the scenic scene
That we would see-
If the Sky replaced the sea-
Spit and Glue will never do-Spit
won't do, when you need glue.
Dressed to kill with taped up glasses,Lace on strippers
with wrinkled rumps
It's a crazy poem but I really feel
You should never read rhymes on caution signs.
CAUTION
Look up here
have no fear –
There have been
twenty-six
accidents right here-
When you slow up
to read this rhyme
you may get hit
from behind
cross the white
line and smash
over the medium
This is not a conversion disorder
There is nothing like numbness,
I can touch the report
I can feel the calender on my table
Not even blindness
Because i can see the list
Of things am met to spend
These few dollars i risk for
Don't even give it a thought
My muscles are functioning
I have been working for thirty days
I have been working on reports
While posting poems on PS
That sweeps my internet
Its just a choice disorder
I am loosing control
On my priorities
I am running mad over this tax
These workers drink electrify
Like elephants
There throats have rust on them
Hell No! Noisy bobs are back
For holidays, ready!!
To beg for their sweets justice
And holiday work help
Yet I paid their teachers
And the shameless landlord
Who brings his long beak
After smelling chicken on my stove
Knowing am now paid
Started coughing hard last night
For to remember 30TH is here
How do they call them
Insurance thugs or what?
Cant i just drive my car?
Are you gods to predict fate?
Then this government tax
Which makes those hippos
Break or plastic chairs on parties
Look at the city vendors
who shout at me
Uncle buy this
Dad buy this
Shut up are we clan mates?
These employs
You fire this, he incarnates in that
Same begging, same laziness,
Same excuses
All merciless keep peeping
In my office to measure
My disability to pay so that they call a strike
And this noisy woman
No salt, No food,
No sugar, soup,
No..hair
No...make up
No Sex!
Did I create 30TH
Or the fate of 31TH
These dollars i hold in my hands
Are invisible
I have worked hard
For those eating much they labor not for
I cant even pay myself on it
I i do someone will shout!!!
Till i go for a bank loan
And every one will smile
On 1st thanking me
For becoming poor
And making them rich
As they tell me stories of drinking themselves foolish
And cheat on their wives with strippers
As i remember
How i paid the last coin
To the church
For crying my tears in their pews
Its all i get
Hysteria at the end of the month
Citizens, rise as one and rejoice,
Taxmas is come, though not by your choice.
April fifteenth, a date so sublime,
great meaning in the term, tax deadline.
Break out the pencils, erasers and paper,
it’s time for another financial caper.
Dust off that box of moldy receipts,
every year your tax routine repeats.
Set aside ethics, social obligation,
it’s time to answer the call of your nation.
Dig deep with a true spirited heart,
each man for himself right from the start.
Bring forth those fictional charity donations,
this is a time for heightened imaginations.
Donations for beer runs surely are fine,
but dollars to strippers may cross the line.
Deductions, exemptions in grand display,
try changing the numbers in every way.
Remember, the IRS is your closest friend,
they will be right by your side to the bitter end.
Fill out the tax form in clearest black ink,
every space filled with whatever you think.
Break out the checkbook; then send your check in,
pray no auditor discovers your sin.
Robert Gene Stoner Jr ©
2/10/16
I'm tired of rappers bragging about things that make no sense
We get it, you're going to have sex with our girls because you're unable to get your own girlfriend
What good is you wearing a diamond chain if you don't pay your rent?
You rented a mansion for your music video but go home to live in a tent
Instead of taking the time to create a good work of art, you'd rather put the most amount of songs on an album
Well done you can rhyme with a million words, but you can't spell one
You say you made 10 million from selling drugs, yes of course you did
Stop showing your jewellery off if you don't pay for your kids
You've been popular for 5 minutes and call yourself the best, but soon you'll be irrelevant
You brag about taking drugs, well done, aren't you intelligent?
I'm sat listening to today's rappers and my patience is wearing thinner than a strippers G-string
Because of all these 5 minute rappers calling themselves the king
You brag about being covered in ice, so how come you can't spit a cold rhyme?
You think Gucci gang is a classic song, and anyone who disagrees is an old head with an old mind
You'll do something dumb on Instagram to try and prove you're a mad dude
Well done you should win the award for "Rapper with the most face tattoos"
I'm tired of rappers bragging about things that make no sense
Your song has 7 different words, and you still forget them when you perform at events
You rent a mansion for your music video but go home to live in a tent
Rappers please stop posting pictures of cash when you don't even pay your rent
Saskatchewan’s Breath !!!
Comes on days that are long, steely and very cold.
It comes on winds that are strong, steady and bold.
Majestic little ladies try standing erect, against Saskatchewan’s breath
in their fragile, Autumn colours of golds, browns, yellows and reds.
He rings those bells - telling of winters cold hand of death –.
With great and greater force, Saskatchewan’s breath blows their heads,
bends their limbs without the passion and grace of a strippers dance.
Saskatchewan’s, cold, cruel breath – like a mad man rapist –
tears at, and strips them of their colourful gowns with little chance
to hide their nakedness for a moment longer – no fig leaf in his tempest
left for them - to greet winters white blanket – with or to enhance
the bleakness that old man winter brings – laying all else to rest
in frozen slumber – cryogenic freeze – in ice age arms of Morpheus,
until spring bounces back – rejuvenates life into rebirth –
bringing renewal, bringing hope for one and all of us
and smiles upon us weary old souls waiting for a green earth
to come to life under our tired old feet – lift our spirits to the skies
bringing joy, pleasures and wonder to our tired old eyes
as we look forward to seeing our – world – babies grow
into the wanders that are soon gone, as we surly know
- deep within – how this universe ( our little world ) turns.
Deep within our souls, there are places that yearns
to see a light through the darkest night – a spirit burns
with passion, with delight, yet knows and has concerns
about what lies in the darkness, behind passions eminent glow.
Sight, knowledge and wisdom, to many, come wings so slow
and in such small pieces, – in fragmented minute flakes –
tiny specks of light from the subconscious for consciousness sake.
So, until the end, nothing but questions – memories we will take
into that elusive light, where knowledge and wisdom it will make
us come to see, see the essence, true life in this universe
as the life of this rhyme comes to an end in verse.
B. J. “A” 2
October 6th 2005
The girl whispered how gross she’s a stripper she has no pride
Her friend replies I bet when she goes off stage she spreads her legs ever so wide
Look at her she’s such an idiot looking all lost
I bet she’s looking for her first day’s client, pimp, or boss
Oh God why is that whore looking near this door
I silently roar, Would you please not talk about her any more
Yes she’s a stripper but her class surpasses either one of your asses
Yes her job is exotic but your judgment is naively chaotic
Everyone’s not as fortunate as you two and we have to make ends meet
That strippers name is Jane and she’s ever so sweet
So despite your negative comments a stripper she is still to be
But silence for the moment because she’s a charmer and she’s with me
There are all kinds of people, wondering, why I like me.
When looking at others, this is what I see.
Smart, dumb, disabled and gifted, each looking for the way.
Rich, poor, young and old, trying to live another day.
Killers, stealers, bookies and thugs, knowing their deeds are wrong.
Lawyers, judges, police and priests, making rules that don't belong.
Strippers, dealers, johns and pimps, their lifestyle is in every town.
Racists, sexists, abusers and perverts, with understanding nowhere around.
The Panthers, Bloods, skinheads and gangs, and there's the Klu Klux Klan.
Crooks, thieves, rip-offs and cons, that's what defines, the dishonest man.
Extreme Right, Liberal Left and the media lies, not caring for other's need.
Hindus, Christians, Muslims and Jews, all pushing their religious creed.
Directors, reporters, editors and anchors, spreading stories that aren't true.
Blind, crippled, deaf and dying, all wishing their problems, happened to you.
Poets, writers, artists and singers, no longer explain the life story.
Principles, parents, teachers and coaches, seems to have forgot their true glory.
So, with an open mind, a caring heart and a longing to be free.
You know it's really no wonder, Why I Like Me.
Carl Wayne Jent
I used to blame myself
For your absence in my life
I thought maybe you didn’t love me
Maybe I was right
Your in my life always leaving
without a care
But i should expect that from a deadbeat
A deadbeat who never cared about anyone
Except maybe himself
As your child
It should be my instinct to love and forgive you
But I don’t
It was you self pity
That made you leave me
I’m 13
You’re 38
That’s not my fault
You’re a grown man
Isn’t that an irony
I’ve had to take care of you
When you should be taking care of me
When have to be in adult dippers
I will leave just like you did
Because even thought 2 wrongs
Don’t make a right
Logic has left my mind
I scream
I’ve locked my self in the closet
Am I bi
Or trans
Or straight
Or boy
Or girl
Or all
Or none
Nobody gets it not even my mom
The second you ban me
From doing what feels right
Is the second you’ve crossed that line
You can’t half support
You love me for all
Or hate me for none
Nobody speaks my foreign tongue
It’s foreign to me too
But I can make out bits and pieces
They can’t
This is what you caused
You say I’m sorry baby I love you
I say I love you none
I will no longer hold my tongue
These words are meant to fly
They will be gone
Faster than the wind
I’m treated like
By my mom
By you
By Brad
The difference is YOU
Are my ing dad
You are supposed to be here
Not snorting crack off
Some random strippers ass
I can’t bare the thought of you
I don’t know the smell of you
The feeling of you love
But I do know it’s not warm
It’s cold
Kind of like the night
When you scared me so bad puked
The night you tried to run over mom
The night your drug dealer punched me because YOU
Made a remark then used me as a tool
Either way he would’ve beat your ass
This time though
His punches landed on me
I don’t love you
You don’t love me
This mental scene came over me while finishing my abnormal psych final:
A pack of about 12 guys all wearing
Sweat pants and no undergarments
**** stars
No white dwarfs here...
They are headed into the strip club for a little fun.
I can visualize the suprise of the bouncers,
the patrons all have a look of protest,
but what are they really going to do?
The wads of cash in hand almost match their...
Oh, you get where I am going with this.
The next sequence for these guys is to chase some viagra
With a few tumblers of jagermeister.
Some of the strippers are going to have more fun
Than they've had since the Harlem Globetrotters were in town.
But poor Lil' Bunny;
It's her first night up there on the swirling stage,
And it's moving like an event horizon.
Her legs are stiff and they're not the only turgid things in this
Flesh arena.
The guys sense her freshness like Crocuta crocuta to the recent kill.
Earlier in the day,
The other dancers told ol' Lil' to really grind on the costumer's lap
In order to keep the money flowing-
"It clicks off the nerves in their brain and transfers all thought
South of the equator."
Yay!
Well, now she is has 12 overzealous guys waiting in queue
With big suprises for her,
And thin veils of cotton covering their junk.
...
I lightly chuckle in class, and then realize
I only have 20 minutes to finish this wonderful test.