Best Waist Poems
I have so many jeans that I can wear.
They lie inside a box upon my floor;
in every color there I have a pair.
With pants galore, I could not want for more!
I don't take time to sift through all those clothes
when I am in a rush and getting dressed.
Nor do I have the time to stand and pose
before my mirror to see which looks the best.
The "Zanadi," flare-legged, and faded blue
I grab with very little hesitation.
From Asia, straight to Walmart, ( and it's true)
they always fit (Oh, joy, less complication).
And when those darn things feel a bit too tight,
I diet till they hug my hips just right!
By Andrea Dietrich
For Nette onclaud's Contest:
"It's In The Jeans"
Soda, ice cream, chips and pizza
I love the way they taste
But every time I bring some home
They end up going to waist
My wife screams are you eating again
You’d better heed my warning
I said, no, I’ve only eaten once
But I started early this morning
There’s something wrong with you
The way you eat your meals with such haste
I guess I’m in a hurry to get rid of the food
Because I know it’s going to waist
Don’t sit there eating everything in sight
And smiling trying to act so coy
You’re the only person I know gets a greeting card
From the Pillsbury dough boy
Sorry if my eating habits seem to make you cry
I’ll slow down and only over eat on days that end in Y.
Not funny, not funny she said
Her face as red as a beet
When I asked her to check if my socks matched
Because I couldn’t see my feet
Another day in Paradise
To the dinner table I raced
I guess that all that food she made
Will soon be going to waist.
If
By Byron Juno
If women MUST die
Then Atieno would die first
If children were to forage
Then Atieno's would forage forever
If women were to walk necked
Then Atieno's would walk throughout the year
If women were to trade their honeypot
Then Atieno's would donate hers
If women were after money not
Then Atieno would be not
If women were to sell their daughters
Then Atieno would sell to a merchant
The woman from the far away land
The woman with less embarrassments
The woman The woman The woman
Whose legs are loose for a walk
Whose waist never tire
Whose joints are ever green
Whose body children is yummy!
Whose body children say is tender
Whose body children say is fresh
Whose lips has tasted all drinks
Whose eyes have not only seen death
Whose back has sweated on all beds
Whose legs have wiped all door mats
Whose scent even cactus knows
Whose farms lie fallow
Atieno the generous woman
Generous woman who never says NO
Who will guide our young girls?
Who will show our girls the right way?
But she says;
Her husband is jobless
Her husband is ever seated
Her husband is ever sleeping
He wants first born treatments
Atieno! Will you not be buried
On the right side of your husband's house?
Will your husband not be the first
To throw black soil in your grave?
Will your husband not say
you were a good woman?
Will your husband not allow mourners
In his compound?
I'd love
to hold your palms
but i don't know
would you
I'd love
to fall in love
but i don't know
where are you
how can
the eye miss
what it never
saw
there's a place
that i really
don't know
be my
portable home
come on
let's go
with your heart
in my chest
who needs
a compass
with my arms
around your
waist
sure wouldn't
want to haste
let the eye
caress
blind me with
that almost
enough excess
let the palms
make love
purity is
witnessed
from up above
let the lips hug
a scene that
will make haters
from defeat
shrug
will never be
there
with my arms around
your waist
i sure wanna go
nowhere
can't you see
with you in
my sights
I've arrived
with your heart
in my chest
we've survived
destination was
just an alibi
to have you by
my side
the road is no one's
friend
it's just a ride
every man writes
his own end
some pack
some write a letter
to send
every man writes
his own end
tamer hossam
Copyright © tamer hossam | Year Posted 2020
Corsets My Waist
In my corset I
Feel thin and lean
My waist is constricted
Without any pain
Down to a 22 from
A 26 inch waist
Inch by inch as I
am tightly laced
Around my body it
Is snug and warm
Squeezing firmly like
A silk stalking glove
It Defines the curves,
smoothes out lumps,
Especially if you have
Junk in your trunk
Reshaping my form
And reducing my waist
Creating an illusion of
the perfect barbie frame
I Walk proud and I
Stand tall this corset
I wear Is the cause
of it all
I glow with radiance
And sex appeal
causing not just men
but the girls to stare
So next time you see
A perfect ten stroll bye
you might find yourself
Staring because you are
mesmerized
if this happens don’t
hesitate to tell her she
looks good with a
Corseted waist
"THIS NEXT PART HAS BEEN ADDED ONLY FOR THE PURPOSE OF MY CORSET GIVEAWAY CONTEST ON MY FACEBOOK PAGE. IT IS ADDED ONLY FOR THE CONTESTANT TO USE FOR THE INTERACTIVE PART OF MY CONTEST"
CONSTESTANTS...YOU MUST TAKE THIS ENTIRE POEM (CUT AND PAST) TO CORSETFITZ TIMELIME AND POST IT BEFORE YOUR INTERACTIVE SECTION BEGAINS
CONTINUED:
Now here you are
with yours tightly laced,
as you stroll by..
you feel the eyes
focus on your waist....
what will they say about about you?
I'm a man of musical taste
With Classic Rock I'm very well placed
It's just the thrill of it all
Guitar solo's enthral
But the Brandy plays havoc with my waist
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/humour-4.php
Was A Proud Pound Cake
Pound bread was splendid;
Was so sad that it ended;
Bring more I adore.
My poetry writing's reason
Is because it is the season
Doom I don't like a legion
My waist line it is sieging.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
In order to work as a PRESSER, one must REPRESS fatigue.
When you release the
words, your curled fingers
burst into flame.
It was an ancient filth,
a bird fighting in the mud-
house of quote-unquote.
Someone navigated
over the bald heads to find
a landing place for a cuckoo.
Between real and fiction,
you cannot write a hymn
in praise of satan, called god.
I am done with the darkness
all around, and rip open
the wall to let in the jupiter.
Satish Verma
Cal Flitter dumps litter in haste,
Ms Witherspoon savors the taste
of fast food, she'll throw
trash out her window.
Cal or Reese are just bad for the waste.
Written 23 Nov 2020
Wadding through the waterways
collecting all the victims
one by one
as the day turns to night
I see my task has only begun
for all tales that were spun
I see now are all true
the animal I see is what's left of man
in this country of plenty they went without
in this of land of milk and honey
they went without food or assistance of money
the storm stripped away their pride
took away their homes
but it was man who took away the families
and spread them across this land
we made them strangers in a strange land
and for that we must repay
give them their due
and dedict to them their own special day
Found Fat On My Waist
Found fat on my waist,
From eating done with much haste,
Sure did love each taste.
Jim Horn
She felt horrible both inside and outside
Her anger gathered with years of age
Her loose belly, the epicenter of her appearance tried hard to hide from the mirrors
Avoided hard the laughing ears
But all in vain, for the whispering spears
Stabbed her anywhere she appeared
Maybe its the raveling inside that caused the most pain
Her mind and her heart had lost the equilibrium
Dull harmony and null happiness occupied the space
Sour with each new dawn
Suspended from the shameful branches of life
O
Waist is too large
government charge
get on the scale
but don't holler and wail
'cause the Diet Police
plan to devise
gonna put us in jail
unless we ex-er-cise !
Copyright McCuen 2008
Last week, I walked up to a woman,
My arms encircling her un-notified waist,
After stiffly pointing out to some man
His not- funny miscalculations from childish haste…
Only yesterday was trailing after another woman in hilarity
Over her hip-describing shorts
And a not-tall one for a charity,
My eyes her high-heeled shoes giving teasing shots.
All these: grudge-unleashing embarrassment
And in even kangaroo courts, a harassment;
A boulder-large embarrassment, an embrace by the insane
Sincerely acting one’s old acquaintance,
To surely leave one in palpable pain
A creditor for his money breathing open threats of disturbance.
Embarrassment is that a woman could kill for,
Of her gross belittling, exceedingly sure ;
Some wives proceeding on hunger strike
Until the sadists their husbands join them to dislike.
Squarely, a pitying of self while wallowing in shame,
A never ever feeling the same
With a shovelful of agitation
For the deliberate intimidation,
Sufferers carelessly freeing the lock to Violent Reaction
On the spot, denied the Shock Absorber for humorless action.