Best Waists Poems

As chandeliers drip ‘round the hall
Bouquets' scent wafts through night’s affair.
In gown of lace she sways with flair
Until her man bows ,to enthrall
A glide of waltz into soft flight,
Where other pairs hope to find bliss
On firefly steps, perhaps a kiss
That her arms fling to breath’s...

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Part 1: FORE SIBERIAN FATE

silk wings wet -
angel on the lake.
starlight glitter
separates from

the golden wheat.
her docile hair,
prophecy of ice.

winter pink,
pinched cheeks.
ice skate scrapes -
flecks of flakes.

the snow queen
before her relentless
reign, a pretty thing.

her smile warms
the water, her eyes
true glacier blue.

Part 2: APOCALYPSE

glacier blue eyes
thunder,
icy waves...

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Fashion cover girls these days make me sick,
All haggard and thin, they look like a stick.
Picking on South Beach diets to trim flat waists         
Do they have a life with surgical pastes?
We XL women may not be...

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Our black, firm, waists, so taut and thin,
the preferred drink was Saphire gin,
and in the dreamy cool black night,
beating hearts, living skin!...

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Seeking a better life and with chance at hand, our new life awaits
Wife hires on as servant, daughter and I stowaway as it departs
Our life's dreams sail on the USS Titanic, a new future to create 
daughter and I conceal ourselves while wife toils with...

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What if our Easter Sunday was Holy Spirit led?
What if in place of colored eggs, lost souls were sought instead?

Instead of hurried egg hunts, we’d hurry to Christ’s grave
Rejoice to find it empty, and shout within the cave

What if crimson spotted robes replaced our light...

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At the Parisian Ball

wrapped in finest gowns

of virgin-snow, sugar-rose

and washed-out pistachio pastels

The  hour-glass shapes

 with tied narrow waists

waltzed with gallant men

togged up in midnight-dusk tails.

Victorian ladies in frilly petticoats

and gossamer laces

swirled in delicate silks

Lifting their pretty faces

to crystal candelabras

to ceilings'baroque paintings

and to the chattering...

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Like A Dream..
Like the days in The Cradle..
Like the tale of Samson's Riddle..
In The Wake of your Fiddle..
Our Waists In Consortium..Like Beaded 
Eroticas Wiggling..

Like A Dream..
Our Stroll Hand-In-Hand By The Beach..
Like Heights We have Reached..
Like The Sweetness Of Depths Unsearched..
Like This Pen I Screech..
Like Those...

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FOGGY NIGHT  ©

The white orb, saturated with 
tidal flows, peers through the 
veil. 

A ghost ship slips up the fog 
laden channel. 

Night gulls. sing with strident cries 

fog seeps in, the tide rolls out, 
day is gone, the night creeps on.

Trees, dressed in...

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Aphrodisiac (18+)

 We got beaten by the rain on our way home
Looking so wet and feeling cold all home alone
She is not my bride and I'm not her groom
She is not my girlfriend and I'm not her boyfriend
Maybe its just benefits derived from being best...

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A FULANI GIRL’S COMPLAINT


I carried water. I did all the house cores. I drove and bred the cattle one and alone, singing songs, running and climbing mountains. I milked, sold milk and bought you silk. I ground the corn and cooked your meals. I woke...

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They write in the language of perfume
flowery powdered words all layered
colours rising and lowering 
in different light spectrums
as if the reader could discern 
without wisened translator 
their seductive dimensions
conveyed within 
their small larger other worlds
notes upon notes, heady notes,
their subtle infractions
like music tinkling through 
the...

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True Identity (By:Josner Saintil)
There are girls who go about
With short skirts and unauthentic hair
To get them, many men would fight and shout,
Yet they are not regal or fair.
They do what they see others do
They dress sinfully or to attract attention,
Following the crowd absentmindedly,
Just makes a...

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some-tin-can-tan-man 
playing in the sand
with paper tigers
  a bear with many tentacles
red everywhere
	in the skies
  clouds streaming down
hispeed downsload online power lines
  pavement-red trees ripe for slicing
 and many motored mobiles moving
i see these incessant seas of disease
in roving throes of twos...

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Sometimes studying the mirror I'm overcome with chagrin
Feeling disappointed by this shell I'm dwelling in.
With my slightly too thick midriff there above my underwear,
I'm more the rotund apple than alluring luscious pear,
Making ludicrous comparisons to girls with waspy waists,
And my nose, Lord, Pinocchio's, upon my...

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