Best Wore Poems
~I wore your skin~
Brother, I wore your skin last night
Nothing but friction, blood -dry ink
Announcing a crush "Silence by the Sky!"
Integrity denied, endangered enemy
Brother, I wore your skin last night, swollen ankles
imagery galore, vomit on the lavatory floor
A clown bleeding red, feeding lies to those he rapes
Blades of need, captain catamite chasing a pup
Who can't resist the heat, when fenced
Brother, I wore your skin last night,
White, green and tight, devouring the light
Mitten wool on your bottom draw
Lipstick waiting to kiss immediate sin
In search of keeping things close to kin
Brother I wore and tore your skin right off
Gross in every demonic way,
Acrobats all over the home
Docile immunity, lurking with a bomb threat
Sister, I wore your skin last night
Vanity of nothingness nutted blasphemy
Evil lurking, wanting to undress thee
Comparing notes, breaking bad company
Sister, I wore your skin last night, swollen lips
scumbag hag, with nowhere to go
Immortal lies weaken by love
Revealing nothing more than her true self
A wraith with no heart, no goal
Sister, I wore your skin last night
Repeating, bleeding, nail biting
Greasy and powerful, needy and greedy
Aching and whining for not placing
Her head lower than shame holding a high
Sister I wore and swore to never put on your skin again
The nasty feeling, of pretending loyalty, is passion
To hate all those who don't fit your skin
A vulture preying sending encrypted messages
By: PD
She Wore Blue Dress, Flowers Her Laurel Crown
She had only soft blue skies and romance
Attending angels at her beck and call
A golden life, with nothing left to chance
All her lovers came from Valhalla's halls.
A beauty, with glowing emerald eyes
With red lips begging ravishing desires
A true vixen, fallen from moonlit skies
Siren setting hungry souls on fire!
She wore blue dress, flowers her laurel crown
This I confess, her kisses honeyed gems
Remember her in lush silk morning gown
Brightest golden thread adorning its hem.
Her red lips, havens of hottest retreat
Hands begging to be held, heart pleading more
Manna, a lover would relish to eat,
Visions of paradise's welcoming shore!
She had only soft blue skies and romance
Attending angels at her beck and call
A golden life, with nothing left to chance
All her lovers came from Valhalla's halls.
Robert J. Lindley, 6-01-2020
Romanticism, ( From A Memory, A Vision, A Youthful Treasure )
Note:
This poem was inspired by my reading of Lady
Labyrinth's truly magnificent poem, titled-
"Horus in Paradise", this is my tribute and
homage paid to a very, fine poetess, and for
such an inspirational poem that gave rise to me
setting pen to hand and composing on the spot.
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables:200
Total # Words::::140
Edit - Awarded Poem Of The Week- 6/07/2020
She was an artist
And he wore a tie
He was established
She needed to fly
She loved the sensations
Danced to vibrations
She wasn't wired
For logical thinking
She learned to detect
Rules and regulations
And steered clear
Of these situations
He was a tad bit square
Didn’t always play fair
Oblivious to the severity
of a triple dog dare
He took no chances
Sat out the dances
His biggest concern
Was career advances
They lacked communication
She needed stimulation
Their marriage was built
On a hollow foundation
She was faithful, still
An oblong pill
It hurt going down
But she had the will
While she was off
Painting the world
He was falling
For a business girl
A lady in heels
Gave him all the feels
Perfectly polished
Making business deals
Well put together
From head to toe
But lacking color
No sparkle or glow
The way he looked at her
Was something new
The man with no heart
Had the passion of two
She always wore a smile
No matter where she went
You never heard the girl complain
You never heard her vent
She always seemed so happy
Helping those she could
Whenever asked to do a task
She'd always say she would
But deep inside her tender heart
She was completely broken
She hid the pain and heartache
No word of it was spoken
The guilt she felt each passing day
Was more than she could bare
She wanted someone she could tell
But, what if they didn't care
What if, what if, the questions came
What if they call me lame
What if they laugh or think I'm dumb
Or speak badly of my name
What if they don't believe it
What if they only see
How bad the situation seems
And look at that, not me
She knew she couldn't handle
Judgment from a friend
So she kept it all locked up inside
And cried alone instead
So be the kind of safe place
A hurting heart can come
Where they know their loved and cared for
And no longer need to run
I Wonder if He Wore a Fedora
He passed a few months ago.
I looked through a few pics
of him when he was young.
He grew up in the depression,
so there weren’t many.
Black and whites, no dates.
None of him smiling,
just a vacant stare,
familiar at that time,
Hand me downs clothes
of a cotton farmer,
Hardscrabble life for this
child of the 30’s.
He didn’t talk much
about that life.
Well, a few times:
how he got two pairs
of shoes a year,
oranges for Christmas.
Patched pants so short,
the kids made fun of him.
Never made it past the eighth grade.
By the time he was eighteen,
his hands looked fifty.
Twelve to fifteen hrs.
a day picking cotton will
make a young man old.
I picked up another picture.
Some other man from the 30’s,
sitting on a bench in front
of the Memphis Zoo.
Wearing a Fedora.
Sophisticated looking.
I wonder if my dad wore a Fedora.
I asked a lot of questions
when I was young.
But that wasn’t one of them.
I can’t ask him now,
but I know what he’d say.
“Those were for the rich, son,
The Boss-man.”
“Not common folk like us,
who knew their place.
You can’t be more
than you are.”
But he was wrong.
Although he was raised
poor common folk,
he worked all his life.
Loved one woman.
Raised his children right
and loved his God.
He died a rich man.
He would have looked
damn good in a Fedora.
11/5/16
A girl wore a mask upon her
face so none could see
The life she lived that had
been so full of cruelty
Never wanting anyone to
gaze upon her scars
Like a prisoner the mask
had became her bars
She would only remove
it when none were around
It made her life so much
easier she had found
Only she could see the
imperfections she did bear
Ridicule from the town people
Nor for them to stare
One day so late she ran
only to trip and fall
Losing her mask shocked
to be seen by them all
She tried to hide her face,
as the crowd stood in silence
For they had seen not one
sign of any kind of violence
Terrified now she gazed
out into the crowd
"Look she's quite a beauty!"
someone did say out loud
She didn't understand for
surely they had lied
But you see all her scars
she carried them inside
The moral to the story
is that for all unwanted pain
Others may not see our scars
but still our shame remains
she wore the most beautiful pearls
she
wore black
in the night
the times i saw
her. black pearls dancing,
singing song in her ears
and heart so radiant her
color to look. like black pupils
looking through purple tint contact lens,
refracting shine from sunny seas and shores.
connie pachecho
1/21/17
It was September of 1960 and we were growing
Elvis sang "It's Now or Never" anticipation showing
New kids in town for our Freshman year
Our last at St. Jerome's, adulthood near.
We hung out at the Coffee Cup on Berwick Street
Five Point Diner and Palma were sweet
We never dreamed of growing old
Back when we wore blue and gold.
Sophomore year brought us to Saint Ann
Not old enough yet to be called a man
Hitch hike to the My Place and Bowling Alley
Travelled around the Panther Valley
Weekends looking for a brand new thrill
Going to the Coffee Shop in Summit Hill
On the Juke box "Runaround Sue" and "Cathy's Clown"
If "Rumble" came on we'd quickly leave town
Building memories as each day would unfold
Back when we wore blue and gold.
62 saw the Four Seasons singing "Sherry"
Our next two years would be with Saint Mary
Pep rallies in the court yard, who could forget
Sneak down to Henry's for a cigarette
Laughing, joking, we were only sixteen
Drop another nickel in the pinball machine
Flip a coin for a pool game, choose who will rack
Fan buses for away games, have a smoke in the back
Lou Christie sang "Two Faces Have I "
"The End of The World " made Skeeter cry
It was 63 and our time was near
We were starting our senior year
Unsure of what our future would hold
Back when we wore blue and gold
November came and some of us cried
The Friday President Kennedy died
Before the storm there is always a calm
Trouble brewing in Vietnam
In 64, invaded by another land
The Beatles wanted to hold our hand
The school would be one next year we were told
Back when we wore blue and gold
June arrived, graduation day
A time to rejoice, a time to pray
To change the world, thoughts so bold
Back when we wore blue and gold.
I wore my red scarf today,
feeling sassy and full of play,
I am the epitome of a drama queen,
wherever I am there is always a scene
as I walk down the street foxy and lean.
You stood there beneath the taunting man on the cross
Yet you stared at the stained floor
I was walking in the dreaded aisle unnoticed by the groom
The bouquet left no petal
For the fluttering flies took them as the bell rang
But you remained unmoved.
I was there almost
I even took the veil
But instead of taking my hand
You lit the candle
Then sprinkled water
On to the glass
Then laid a rose on my breast.
Brother, I wore your skin last night
Nothing but friction, blood -dry ink
Announcing a crush "Silence by the Sky!"
Integrity denied, endangered enemy
Brother, I wore your skin last night, swollen ankles
imagery galore, vomit on the lavatory floor
A clown bleeding red, feeding lies to those he rapes
Blades of need, captain catamite chasing a pup
Who can't resist the heat, when fenced
Brother, I wore your skin last night,
White, green and tight, devouring the light
Mitten wool on your bottom draw
Lipstick waiting to kiss immediate sin
In search of keeping things close to kin
Brother I wore and tore your skin right off
Gross in every demonic way,
Acrobats all over the home
Docile immunity, lurking with a bomb threat
Sister, I wore your skin last night
Vanity of nothingness nutted blasphemy
Evil lurking, wanting to undress thee
Comparing notes, breaking bad company
Sister, I wore your skin last night, swollen lips
scumbag hag, with nowhere to go
Immortal lies weaken by love
Revealing nothing more than her true self
A wraith with no heart, no goal
Sister, I wore your skin last night
Repeating, bleeding, nail biting
Greasy and powerful, needy and greedy
Aching and whining for not placing
Her head lower than shame holding a high
Sister I wore and swore to never put on your skin again
The nasty feeling, of pretending loyalty, is passion
To hate all those who don't fit your skin
A vulture preying sending encrypted messages
> have just been sorting out some old papers and guess what I found some old poems.
There talking on the radio
There talking on the radio today.
BBC radio Suffolk, I must say.
About wearing pyjamas when outside.
Not in bed, where you can hide.
I’ll tell you now one week I did.
Wear my pyjamas all day, I do not kid.
Had pants on longjohns too.
On top I wore my trousers true,
Covered all in a white snow suit.
Got the picture? Was not swell.
I was in Germany now I’ll tell.
Exercising my war dogs you know.
In the cold and freezing snow.
All the dogs, I took out that week.
Had their thick coats, so were not bleak.
But they could not my pyjamas see.
But I was still freezing cold you see.
I know using see twice, is not nice.
Nor was the weather, I felt like frozen ice.
But I soon warmed once dogs were fed
Went back to barracks and me bed.
Don’t worry dogs were all okay.
On their bed board’s in deep straw did lay.
When on duty and I checked on them.
I could not see any of them.
All of them, were tucked up warm.
Not like me and my friends with pyjamas worn.
We were cold , you could tell.
As our teeth chattered, wordless as well.
But them dogs, all were fine.
Warm as toast were all of mine.
How could I tell, listen its true.
In the morning what I did do.
I entered each kennel very slow.
To take each dog for walkies you know.
Hidden in their bed of straw.
My hand wandered in for lead to secure .
When I touched my dog, I jest you not.
Was curled up in a ball and blinking hot.
And that was something I was not.
But did I take my pyjamas off, no I blinking well did not.
I don’t care if using not twice, ain’t nice.
As without those pyjamas on, I’d be like ice.
I would be freezing cold and that’s not right.
And on that chill note, I’ll say good night.<
When the drums beckoned from Accomgpong Town,
my grandfather run, and run, and run;
my grandfather ran at high speed
over saw-toothed terrain
with vicious rocks hacking at naked soles,
and blood-hounds mauling at his heels.
My grandfather wore stripes
like the red, white and blue;
and when the hot sun rides raw waves on his back,
my grandfather stand tall to wipe sweat from his brow,
then my grandfather wear whips
that echoes louder than the drums
that called beyond Mount Diablo,
but no one was running to his rescue.
The same frown...
The same sad face...
The same dismay
over and over ..
You said the same
mean words to hurt me.
Today I choose
to wear smiles.
I have come miles
since yesterday!
The happiness I felt...
The freedom I have now...
Since you left
and went away;
Please in fact,
don't come back!
Putting me down-
Wanting to see me
with that same
sad face,with
that same 'ole frown.
The same dismay.
I can't wear
those feelings
anymore no way.
For I wore
that yesterday.
No complaints,
self esteem
has risen.
It feels good to be free
from your
verbal prison.
Nope, I am wearing a smile,
enjoying my new freedom.
No frown-no
feeling down-no dismay.
Can't wear that outfit,
feeling like a misfit,
see I wore that
yesterday! ....
No way can you
taunt or daunt
my spirit or depress
my spiritual side.
No more can you
appall or terrify
or fill me up with
apprehensions.
I am free!
No longer disabled;
So ring the alarm-
I won't respond,
I have the courage,
The courage to say.
I am not wearing
those feelings of dismay,
I wore them yesterday.
So say what you must
and do what you will.
My spirit has
traveled far from you.
Today is my day.
So don't come back
to try and dress me in
that old tired suite,
made by Mr. Dis-May
I don't wear that
label anymore ...
I wore that yesterday.
Limerick: Once a London Bobby wore a bobtail
Once a London Bobby wore a bobtail
Little girls pulled his leg by the tail
So he cut off his leg
They pulled his other leg
So he cut off his head to keep the tail.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013