Best Undergarments Poems
Collaboration between
Seren Roberts and Mandy Tams:
The Wet Patch
Why sit with a frown is there a need?
Yes she whispered in my ear, I think I peed.
My knickers are wet, I dare not move at all
If I stand up, down they will surely fall
Your knickers are wet, ha I did scoff
But I made sure I did, no laugh or a cough
For under my seat I would then have to peer
As there may be a puddle just under here
Went shopping before we met for lunch
Hoped lollies would stay frozen, so I could crunch
Put it in my handbag, sat upon my lap
Decided to eat quickly, so no mishap.
But lunch took quite a while
We had a laugh and a smile.
The lollies got hot, and then they did melt
I felt a cold patch sneak under my belt.
I swept off the table cloth wrapped it round like a toga
To everyone watching I said ‘it’s a new move in yoga'
To the bathroom I ran and locked the door
I dropped my wet undergarments, onto the floor
Knickers now down, I could see the stain
Was orange not pee and that I still maintain
I sniffed at my undies and then I did think
They smell of oranges, as I rinsed in the sink
I hadn’t peed at all, twas not a mishap
My ice lollies had melted, wetting my lap
Next time you see an old dear with a wet patch on her frock
Remember it might be a lolly, so you better not mock
One day you know that old dear will be you
So to yourself and to others you must always be true
A wet patch you may see, but no lollies are there
So offer her some wipes, but don’t sit on her chair
© 2013
Under the bleachers, I do declare.
Some undergarments and underwear.
All exposed with little fear.
Will anyone see? It's not real clear.
Little Johnny plots with rubber bands.
While all these butts become his fans.
These rubber bands, they soon will fly.
Spectators will jump up for the sky.
He strikes at will, the sting they bring.
Both hands they cup, on buns they cling.
Little Johnny laughs, heads for the hills.
The screams he hears, does give him thrills.
Time was ticking away as I stumbled in the rain,
My carriage was in a ravine, the coachman dead;
Oh the beautiful horses with their broken necks,
I followed a light until I was knocking on a door.
Sheets of rain poured down on me from up above,
Slowly the door opened as I stood dripping;
I fainted and I was lost in a sometime world.
Slipping into an inky, dark, fathomless void.
Blowin' free in a dreamy, lovely, drifting place,
As gentle hands removed my dress and petticoat;
Then I felt my corset and undergarments being taken,
I really should protest, after all I was a lady of 1680.
For days in delirium, I heard myself softly muttering,
The king will come, the king will come, the king;
I lay on a soft bed of furs before a blazing fireplace,
The forest green with leaf and stream in the wild.
The warrior Argus tended to me for many, many days,
He had found the carriage and buried the dead;
She is beautiful, he thought with growing sweet love,
And then one bright dawn I opened my eyes.
Looking down at me was the most handsome man,
And I was shamelessly aware of my nakedness;
I should be screaming was my first reaction in reality,
Then the King's Guard was breaking down the door.
And I loudly yelled, "throw down the swords!"
____________________
August 25, 2015
Poetry/Narrative/Argus- and the Lady
Copyright Protected, ID 15-703-650-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Album Tracks
sponsor, James Fraser
Ninth Place
I speak to you in parables
In this idiomatic riddle filled way
Because I fear the blunt effect
Of being plain spoken
I saw the rainbow and the sun
In the words they uttered
I felt the hot breath of certainty
In the rise of the collective sigh
I sensed the rich aroma of promise
In the feasts of their colorful fiesta
I saw you fall for the poetry
In the juxta-positioning of words
In the lyrical simplicity of their promise
In the elegant catch phrases of victory
The swift ascent of their ambitions
Caught in the undergarments of our shame
Embarrassed by the exposure
You chose to wait and wait
And you sang and sang
Laughed the bitter ironic laughter
Composed elegy and dirge
Prepared for the next upheaval
Oh sweet bride to be
as the flowers bloom
you snuck to my room
in hopes of a lustful spoon
Groom anxiously awaits
as your father opens the front gates
No one will comprehend our fate
Face to face we engage
Stockings, undergarments and satin lace
on the floor they lay
We embrace and grind away
In the grand days of old let the truth be told/
Those ships and mate's in plight,
With ancient fool's who had launched in an all night battle !
The one who stayed alone and quiet would lose/
A much happy time of old !
Mediocre drawn beers as an angry mob grew bolder !
For the little troll would oft' loosen his undergarments ?
Ready for a fight/
Along came a black knight !
The little troll found himself a bit helpless among the resistance,
In the distance a land far to quaint in which to behold,
Try to filter out the sorrowful resistance/
A castle promptly built for the proud and noble !
What was once thrown down into the rubble,
Yet still my heart beats a bit frantic now ?
Torn in the midst of breathless moments/
We suddenly captured a sweet glimpse of heaven,
But then to suddenly leave again !
With fallen trees of fern and elm,
Then suddenly the sword pulled out of the lasting storm !
With gentle onlooker's to approach,
A vining warrior with hidden spear inside,
Traveler's visiting from the East would often run away and hide ?
Yet what had hit me from my blind side ?
Was it the heavy notion of a wizard living inside ?
A darkened portal that had come to light !
With a famed court prince on some winged plight/
Along comes a big dragon with a focused intent,
Outside a winged servant was inclined to viscously launch out into the night/
To enlarge his welcoming with some frantic fright !
Amidst the hidden turmoil of the given plight/
With the great task in which to make all things right !
Nurembered days
Numb
Dumb
The pain
insane
a breast to suckle
an ear to hear
walking dead
late but prayed
Gods fell asleep
Mortals played
tumors grow
Its the doctors show
Liver or die
Drink my dreams
or do I try
Lettuce and rabbits
seduction and undergarments
exposed in the rain
dancing in pain
rendezvous
cafes and empty tables
candles burnt
loves description like flames
fades away
easy to say
no one to sway
who the hell wants to stay
This world is red
This life is spoked and bloody
Emotions drowned in daily strife
Memories drift
like snow in the wind
Silent dreams
Erotic dancers
Colombian cafes
My head a daze
Long ago, when the piano was tuned
I was a player
I was formidable and great
now
I drink in the last call
fulk the life and I want the hell
do I cry in Belgium
Fabulous
I am not a nice guy
But the metro is here
so goodbye
Suicide tracks
and
Musical notes
chasing the hate of isis tears for fears
Butterflies trump ruby foo’s buffet
for tyrants rant
While fools become gluttons
Why sit with a frown is there a need?
Yes she whispered in my ear, I think I peed.
My knickers are wet, I dare not move at all
If I stand up, down they will surely fall
Your knickers are wet, ha I did scoff
But I made sure I did, no laugh or a cough
For under my seat I would then have to peer
As there may be a puddle just under here
Went shopping before we met for lunch
Hoped lollies would stay frozen, so I could crunch
Put it in my handbag, sat upon my lap
Decided to eat quickly, so no mishap.
But lunch took quite a while
We had a laugh and a smile.
The lollies got hot, and then they did melt
I felt a cold patch sneak under my belt.
I swept off the table cloth wrapped it round like a toga
To everyone watching I said ‘it’s a new move in yoga’
To the bathroom I ran and locked the door
I dropped my wet undergarments, onto the floor
Knickers now down, I could see the stain
Was orange not pee and that I still maintain
I sniffed at my undies and then I did think
They smell of oranges, as I rinsed in the sink
I hadn’t peed at all, twas not a mishap
My ice lollies had melted, wetting my lap
Next time you see an old dear with a wet patch on her frock
Remember it might be a lolly, so you better not mock
One day you know that old dear will be you
So to yourself and to others you must always be true
A wet patch you may see, but no lollies are there
So offer her some wipes, but don’t sit on her chair
© 2013
Collaboration between Seren Roberts and Mandy Tams
Never trust a woman with a stick
Allegros slow Andantes quick
It starts when Passionata comes on stage
Hips controlled feet detache dress in style
lento firm lips betray a smile
Rehearsals can be so deathly sweet
Routined (in mind) commence polyphony
hoping for a firm sure beat
She steps upon the stand with grace
Checks (includes her undergarments) that
We're all in place then
Taps the flowered rack
All players
men emasculated
women stuck to chairs
instantly repond (with silent prayers)
Egmont is chosen for the overture
The long tutti fortissimo is SICK!
QUICK!
Trumpets trombones French horns
empty valves of spit
Woodwinds check their springs
the reeds for grit
The entire string section pluck their strings
but OH!
The bloody tambourine
shaken on its stand rolls off of it
and down each riser in jingling fit
Passionata breathes contemptuous
sighs
rapture flash of victory in her eyes
At last a chirptwittering laugh
patronizing glance to all
(especially the men)
"Shall we" rising to her tallest fullest
"try it once again"
Sunlight waves
I look out into the world with drunken haze...
ever liked to hop on one leg and change the other?
Try it, you could tell which one is better; which one is sturdy, which one is weak.
Touch the stuble hair down there
You know, the ones between your knee
What other place is there to touch?
Are we getting frisky?
They're like tiny hammer nails, scratching on your fingerprint
Will it mess up your identity?
That tiny little cinch
Like a tear on a womens stocking; or could we still call it hoisery?
Why the thin lace, why the border; like the feeling of some order
Some reserve perhaps...
Hey
what do youy say?
shall we take a stroll together
an awckward feeling walk
where we could be so very open
and scare ourselves a bit
not knowing what the other says
not understanding the others jokes:
Every see a funny man cry?
Crying with his mouth and smiling with his eyes
All because his girlfriend got plastic surgery
He was happy for the rack, but when he check his wallet he was short stacked
Pu-Dum-Ching!
Hmmmm no good
Do watch the night sky and hope for a U.F.O
Undergarments Forfiting Options
...A bet the boys would like that
Boys...
Men...
That an interesting thing
I wonder when we stick with one, does the urge stay for a fling?
Is that what moves us from animal to man?
Tolerance and Control
I love you for I stay
But!
My apetite tells me to go, and go, and go
STOP!
GO!
Oh I don't know
Interesting many subjects floating in my head
I hope its not as original as I fed
but isn't it nice to be a little wierd?
The sun is shining thin
That answer's never clear
the room smelt of the pinks overflowing in the black glass vase
embodied with the human sweat that such sex embroiled
striven all over the room were the delicate but torn white undergarments
she had been lured to the room, and ravaged by this stranger.
already crimson bite marks,marked her skin
with yellow and turning purple undertones
looking through the windows beheld a wonderful sight
a beautiful view of a manicured garden
emerald lawns edged with orange flowers,
the old ash tree stood proudly in pride of place
such a sight will be in her mind forever never to forget,
she heard a noise in the bathroom
thinking the monster might return
she raised her battered body, gathered her clothes
wrapped a sheet around herself and left
this was how the police found her
blue with cold, was taken to the hospital
for evidence to be taken, she will survive
will have to control the demons that will try
to ruin her future life
penned. 13/3/2016
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.
She pleasures with her eyes,
attractive lights in any language.
Rivulets of lustrous hair frame this angel.
Swelling lips search for a warm surface.
Seductive hands remove his outer layers,
while her actions are reciprocated.
The serene light reveals lace undergarments
woven tightly over feminine curves.
A bed vibrates on frenzied contact.
The couple embrace with bare skin,
lubricated with fevered perspiration.
She removes the last piece of his clothing.
The intensity and passion of his kisses
increase as he descends her voluptuous frame.
Her breasts rise to address his lips,
twin beacons of peaked arousal.
Hands become instruments of delightful affection.
Tongues search for fountains of stimulation.
Harmonious nervous systems signal in timed unison.
Communicating in universal expression.
His gift is received in the warm tide,
where the center of her cherished womanhood resides.
Oxygen, pulled from the electric air,
surges through rosy cheeks.
Isolation, control, and restraint are abandoned.
Wretched destination becomes blessed euphoria.
A climax of other worldly contentment floods
both lovers with unmatched ecstasy.
Lying unclad in coital enjoyment
both partners become bound with renewed attachment.
A tangible seal of combined togetherness,
two forms merge into complimentary bliss.
Wake.
Dried silver serpent on my face.
Great.
Make-up messed up from rug burn.
Nice.
Trail comes from my mouth and misses my eye.
Stand.
Another night, remember; haze.
Pretty.
Only in my undergarments; pink and black laced.
Hole.
Cold sweat, easy access, still spent.
Wake.
Hello sun!
Do you know what day it is sun?
Do you care what day it is sun.
Has all these milleniua, turn you like a human being?
A man that works in office cubicle,
typing away a repeated sentence that no one will read.
Knowing he must work, but not knowing what for;
has it become mundane, sun.
Great.
I should be getting dressed, but i'm thinking about a personified sun.
I bet he would have a bright smile and a warm embrace,
but i'm pretty sure he would be hot tempered, but I like to tame.
Isn't that a problem, i'm just borderline sane.
Nice.
Ten digits and the words "call me" are left on the table.
What is it with the number ten, ten fingers, ten toes,
rating a person one through ten, ten being the best.
Ten digits being the nessecary combination to operate a telephone
or cellular device, to help communicate with another person.
Connect with a person...
Stand.
Do I really want to be with another?
can't even stand being by myself.
Mostly scared when I am lonely
Yearning thought: don't be a phony
Slowly wanting intoxication
Earning nothing through this dedication
Lightly thinking: is this enough
Feel my heart, the beats are tough
Pretty.
The nail color that glisens in the sunlight,
the unchipped parts anyway.
Like a guitar with four strings;
It would be a pain, but if you try, you could make a harmony.
...Only if you try...
Hole.
He that stalks like the prey
Holy steps he takes towards me
Sniffing at the sour air, claiming my scent he travels on
He that struggles with me in a clothes fight
Tearing, ripping undergarments to dignity
Ravishing me like some form of beast
He that makes my heart pound
Drumming my pulse one stroke at a time
Creating a ungentle rhythm
He that my body calls to
Loudly with stares no words
How I wish of him to devour me