Best Unladylike Poems
Snow White took an unladylike bite
of a big red apple polished bright
she snoozed quite a while
he kissed her with guile
and they shared an afternoon delight
Little Red Riding Hood was dressed in red leather
Went out on her motorbike whatever the weather
Every week she drove to see her sick grandma
She lived in the next village; it wasn’t that far
Little Red would fill her pannier full of tasty treats
To tempt her grandma when she wanted food to eat
One day Little Red arrived to find the cottage door ajar
There was no sign of grandma; she can’t have gone far
Little Red hunted high and she hunted low
Wherever would her beloved grandma go?
Grandma was eventually located in the local pub
Hunger had overtaken her and she needed some grub
Little Red was taking grandma home on the back of her motorbike
Grandma wasn’t wearing a helmet, she thought them unladylike
Next thing they knew a police siren was heard
Little Red got pulled over, would a fine be incurred?
Little Red took off her helmet and used her womanly whiles
Soon the young policeman was full of smiles
On hearing the story that grandma had been so ill
He tore up the ticket – Little Red didn’t get a bill
Grandma eased herself off the bike and got into his car
He understood the situation and grandma’s house wasn’t far
The policeman was now off duty and he came in for tea
He found Little Red and grandma such charming company
Next time Little Red visited grandma he was waiting at the door
Now Little Red is blissfully happy ...in the strong arms of the law!
Contest: Once Upon a Time
Number 3 - Little Red Riding Hood
Sponsor Laura Loo
01~27~15
Unladylike though to speak this heart of mine
for a certain man who makes my day shine.
I admit I'm just being true to myself
to this indescribable feeling for you that I felt.
Honestly, you caught my eyes at first sight
from that moment I wanted no more nights
only to see you even at a glance
and know your name if I have the chance.
Man, I don't want you to have hard time to think
for there are a lot of girls in this wide space
"you don't know my name, but you know me by face."
Before I leave you I want you to know --
"I think of you everyday, now and then
hoping that we will cross our path again..."
There are times when I wonder what it would be like
If this site was no longer, surely become quite unladylike
Use very foul words
I'd be very disturbed
Yelling a bunch of bad words that are far from polite
© Jack Ellison 2015
Before it’s too late
Distant bells clatter on cloud fed weathered skies where
darkness creeps past low light vestibules, faded beams flicker
Short skirts wave in a winter wind, breezy attributes
revealing fishnet thighs calling to the next hidden passenger,
batting lashes and blowing bubbles of stale gum placed under
crushed velvet seats worn in places, stained deliberately
for bragging rights and handkerchief blotting
A ghostly mist lingers as lips are touched up, bright red, crimson,
shades of desire, occupational decisions, advertisements leaking
into sewers and hopscotch squares spread along the avenue
Silhouettes in porch lanterns, whistling…so unladylike, ducking
constables with nightsticks swinging like the clapper in those damn bells
waking the unsuspecting and spooking the transients offering
a few coins for a ten dollar dream
Swine wallows in last week’s gossip, slimy little beings
fat on sausage and biscuits, cursing the rats pushing their way in
below curtains and kitchen windows framing inquisitive eyes,
watching cash change hands and satisfied smirks
on the faces of those wiping feet on mats,
greeting the family in disguise, shirt un-tucked,
long day rewards and dinner on the table
Yesterday’s newspaper tumbles down the walk,
clinging to sign posts, featuring headlines of death, a warning in bold print,
still at large, a menace to society in a grey overcoat,
double breasted and fancy shoeprints in the fresh mud
No further traces except the body, contorted and frozen, smeared faces
littering cobblestone gutters, frightening children and pets,
as passersby look to second floor balconies, oblivious
Midnight calls, staggering drunkards exit Chauncey’s,
hard up and spent, slurred laughter, boisterous to hide worries
and tomorrow’s jobs, time clock lies and penciled in wishes
Iron fence posts rust at the gateway as they glance to the headstones
of friends long past and recent memories, sensing the urge,
seeing the painted nails and low cut blouses, thinking…
before it’s too late
While from a secluded archway…
My ladylike mother, raising a blue-jeans daughter
No dresses for my back-to-school shopping-
After school shortcut with Amy, my friend
Grassy flowered path, trees and birds
For my autumn birthday, I give myself
the new Black Stallion book from the library
So eager to take it home, fall into the pages
Still, at the final bell, I wait for Amy
Best friends are supposed to wait...
But minutes lag as the yard empties
I am alone, as I leave
Our shortcut is deserted, silent
The birds do not sing today
A footstep crunches behind, then
A stranger, tall to my short self
His junior high days long over,
With a sour smell, a greasy smile
Immobilized, I feel my pulse beat
In my throat, clutching my Black Stallion book
"Hey, what's your name, baby?," he slurs
With drunken breath and crawling eyes,
Then his arm slides around my
almost-fourteen-year old waist, and his foul stink
Whispers in my ear, "Oh baby, what a body"
I don't think, don't plan
I just run
But he is there, pushing me down as his hands
grope my almost-fourteen-year-old breasts
From somewhere deep rises rage-
HIT HIM! HIT HIM! in giant flashing red letters
My fists, smashing into his arm, my voice, unlocked,
"Go away, GO!"
And he does suddenly go; my saving grace,
Being unladylike-
When I make it home, on shaking legs, my mother
scolds me for the tears in the knees of my new bluejeans
Which cost so much money! I say nothing
And my Black Stallion book is gone.
The next day, from school, I take the long way
The concrete streets of populated protection
I can't tell Amy why I won't take our shortcut
I can't tell even my own mother
So she finds other friends to walk home with
When the book comes overdue, the librarian chastises me
For my lack of caregiving and responsibility
I swallow salty-hot tears, and borrow money
To pay the fine, for I can not return
what is lost.
9/23/18
TomBoy, your reading about one. Most people are confused, so in a way, I'm here to explain
because i truly fit the definition.
Tomboy's are girls, that some call it, "Rough around the edges." We're not your typical,
average girl or woman. Yes, we date guys, can be one of the guys and can hang around the
guys. Most of us play video games, we wear more pants than anything! We defiantly play
sports, football, baseball, soccer, volleyball, ext. When its late at night we
occasionally watch ESPN. However, we do have an feminine touch. Hair is always done, nails
painted, pretty outfits, intelligent like all human beings and 5-star hygiene.
We are unique and different. Not weird and defiantly not unladylike.
After the Dominican with it's heat and humidity
This is absolute heaven on earth
Temps in the low seventies with bright sunny skies
AND NO HUMIDITY
Humidity's a killer as you all well know
You can be sitting absolute still
Not exerting yourself even the tiniest wee bit
And still the sweat could be running down your face
On men, it's manly
On women, it's against the law
For exhibiting such unladylike tendencies
Women don't sweat... they perspire
Bull crap! They sweat just like us guys
Given the choice, though
I'd rather perspire to death
Than burn to death... no contest
But when you get right down to it
I'd really rather pass away making love to Jennifer Aniston
© Jack Ellison 2014
Jealousy in senior citizens
Is an ugly thing
It’s childish, it’s petty,
It has a negative ring
For elderly women, make no mistake
In certain surroundings
There’s quite an outbreak
And don’t they look silly
With their petulant smiles
As they pose and they preen
Like noxious reptiles!
The venom they spew, why, it’s unladylike
Overheard was this gentleman:
“Girl, take a hike!”
We don’t want you around,
Say the popular guys
But they simply can’t help it
They draw them like flies
So here is a warning, a word to the wise
If old ladies don’t watch it
They may recognize
That they haven’t a clue
How to compete for the prize.
Let them be jealous, let them talk trash
They only look foolish
But they’re due for a crash
‘Cause nobody likes them
We think they’re absurd
Their ugliest nature
Is more than inferred
Drop the act, ladies, give it a rest
The men are all saying
You’re the worst kind of pest
I wanted to age graciously,
Serene, ladylike and wise,
But I get confused and muddled
And I've come to realise
Things happen to me,
That takes me by surprise
Everything unravels before
My fading eyes.
I cannot enter a room,
Without tripping at the door
With a feeling of doom
I lay spread eagle on the floor.
Everyone stops talking
And stares at me
I wish they would stop gawking
At the blood oozing from my knee.
Then someone stirred
And tried to drag me to my feet
I did not utter a word
As I scrambled toward a seat.
Serenity and calm
Vanished into thin air
As for wisdom and charm
It was lost, beyond repair.
Someone applied some cream
And placed a bandage on my knee
I felt like it was all a dream
How unladylike can a person be,
With shaking hands, I tried
To drink the welcome cup of tea
Then I dropped the cup
It spilled all over a Bonsai tree
I was not at home,
I was at my best friend's house
I went alone
There were several more visitors
Including my friend's spouse
My friend was devoted
To her Bonsai trees
She stunted their growth
To a size that pleased.
She entered them in contests
And very often won,
I had ruined her chances
With the damage, I had done.
I was feeling depleted
Hot and sweaty too
I was utterly defeated
And wish I could start anew
I know this won't happen
I've tried many times before
Because I fell into some bracken
As I waved goodbye at their front door.
Mary’s Head
Mary, a prominent socialite from the Berkshires
Being proper and polite
Had a good head on her shoulders
In accordance with her stature in life
Invited guests would join her in the parlor
For afternoon delights
Fortnum’s tea and scones would set the mood just right
High tea in New England is the only way to enjoy a lovely day
When Mary took a dainty bite
A petite bite you could say
From a mini sandwich from the tray
Her head fell off
In a most unladylike and curious way
It was shocking and quite the scare
Even her body looked a little silly standing there
Holding a tea in one hand, sandwich in the other
And if she had another, she would surely scratch her head
If she had one….
This was such a delicate matter
No one gathered, knew exactly what to say
The detached head rolled to the floor and down the hall
While she was speaking on and on
Gathering speed with every word
Sounding funny as it tumbled down the steps
Into a wondrous world
No one knew what she was saying
As her head rolled toward the shore
People speculating and searching for a cure
Perhaps it was the bread….or something they had said
Massachusetts is a lovely place this time of year
But remember to keep your head about you when you are there
How unappealing... the missus went bananas
courtesy hurling mandarin oranges.
Yes quite juvenile
unladylike childlike behaviour,
mine wife oft times doth display,
I do not deplore
yours truly reckons
tis futile effort causing furore
aye attest bull
in china shop incorrigible hardcore
exhibited by spouse
out of bounds antics bon jour
earlier within marriage
shenanigans twas the stuff
back in the day
sparking altercations, haint no lore
regarding wedded bliss
muddle aged doozy storied
married couple expressing
mutual love nevermore
did deux disparate
birds of a feather flock together
espousing total mortal kombat
(with looming fruity weapon
of mass destruction
living below poverty dirt poor
surviving (barely) hand to mouth
unable to afford
top of line high grade
clean atomic bombs rapport
re: ruining our reputation
as hoity toity main liners
portraying child's play
conflicts in East/West Timor
almost annihilating each other
i.e. zee Harris family
plus well nigh turning
planet Earth into vapour.
Sober realization of brinksmanship
brought now auld
geezers (defanged & harmless)
flinging foodstuffs cold
and/or frozen leftovers
(carbon dated), petrified extolled
as delicacy among Neanderthals,
who would value and
cherish fruit lobbed as
love's labour's lost more precious
(as a physical expression of affection)
more so than fine spun gold
thee rented man cave serves
atavistic trait hard rock cafe
functions as pleasant reminder,
where one percent genetic
stock originated (think noggin
rock hard iron maiden mold).
Backtrack to years spanning 2000-2010
wen furious red hot poker rage
twas unmanageable when living
under duress within Penn Valley
even tranquilizers could not assuage
harkening back when yours truly
under threat courtesy battle ax
and her henchwomen,
which matriarch took immediate dislike,
née rabid (foaming
at the mouth loathing)
towards yours truly
them days outright state
of undeclared warfare
found fury within me
exceeding the wrath of Kong!
Thank dog, I mellowed since then
gratuity prescription medication.
After the Dominican with it's heat and humidity
This is absolute heaven on earth
Temps in the low seventies with bright sunny skies
AND NO HUMIDITY
Humidity's a killer as you all well know
You can be sitting absolute still
Not exerting yourself even the tiniest wee bit
Still the sweat could be running down your face
On men, it's manly
On women, it's a great big no-no
For exhibiting such unladylike tendencies
Women don't sweat... they perspire
Bull crap! They sweat just like us guys
I Roundly Square Prayer...
Despite imprecations
yielding "FAKE" impact
upon the head of this atheist,
especially when thy
(untamable) shrewish wife
takes umbrage against this beast
tee boy up hoar excuse for a
husband precariously
bass (sic) lee perched
on a figurative
tightrope in creased
when withering tension (such as
chronic money woes
raises an ugly head
imploring a sudden cosmic deist
convert to pluck me
out this marriage well greased
with decades of vitriolic
verbal eminent amber gris,
where envisioning being swallowed
by Moby Dick haint half as bad
as incessant thrashing from spouse,
who expatiates, then gets cross
at this near expired dad,
when aye experience her
off fish shell reel
(hook, line and
sinker), where (when),
she looses (and loses) wrath
of Queen Kong sprinkling
unladylike cringeworthy
four lettered laced profanity largesse
(Sargasso Sea sunned)
favorite foul mouthed fad,
which "sailor blushing" gasp
finds me swallowing
hard syllabic retort (consonant
effe f**k hay shuss
m*th*r - f*ck*r) "EEE GAD"
bringing to ma mind, how parents
used to bad mouth me
(their only son),
when he hapt tubby
a passively aggressive lad
where booth me
late mum, and papa
got red red hot
poker (faced) mad
cuz, aye got born this way
at those accursed moments
futilely half heartedly praying
aware oye vey
knowing full well beseeching
divine alien abduction
all for naught!
There are times when I wonder what it would be like
If poetry sites were no longer, probably become unladylike
Use very foul words
I'd be very disturbed
Yelling a bunch of bad words that are far from polite