Buxom Barbara burned her bra
never again lift and separate
or cross your heart to contemplate
she likes to feel her bosom counts
when flouncing down the boulevard
Barb now snags more bounce to the ounce
abroad in the world without a single care
it never fazed her one bit nor a whit
when this would jounce most men to stop and stare
as if they'd not seen such before
and she'd trounce 'em should they dare to pounce
a crystal-clear case of less is more
Naked and Revealed,
Sexy or Lewd,
What can I do
If I have them on me?
Inseparable, heavy beads,
Bulgy with shady teats.
All you care:
Is it concealed well beneath bra strips?
Gasping for breath,
Sharp stabbing in my breasts,
Lying on the bed,
Nausea till my neck -
All due to the unbearable clasp at the chest.
Tell me,
Is it still my fault,
If a brassiere is not enough for my ample busts to exalt?
Should I cut them?
Or should I burn them?
Since I can't stop their charming dance,
For those
Who only know how to objectify and sexualize their existence,
Without any rightful cause.
It's all you care about.
Maybe what suffocates isn't the bras,
But the disgust for what's beneath them -
And that's what I care about.
Leather boots and belts,
A maiden’s lipstick,
Handcuffs, lace panties bra,
Sword slave,
Wash muzzle,
Plug Tongue,
Eel slime plum,
Snail, tornado, bones, antlers, hands.
Razor clam ***** dug tunnel,
Cucumber purr kitty.
Brine volcano mussel worm plank,
Brassiere blaze twirl shell,
Palm girdle underwear, boot panty boars, hand Dug pussy thermometer!
Scream spank shout!
Kettle strap!!
Steam lung pulse!!!
******** morgue eating crucifix breakfast?
His girlfriend’s stacked, she’s a 44D
Doesn’t crave attention, says ‘Let me be’
But when whistles abound
His girl wants to astound
She's just removed her brassiere ~ Wanna see
O, the perfumed scent
of lilac and daffodil
You'll never replace the stench
of the repulsive local landfill
All hail to New Joisey, the Garden State
weeds, thorns and thistles your visit await
Yes, hail to Joisey, where the goils braid the hair
in their nose with acid rain from polluted air
Forget your long-stemmed roses and fancy poses
Gimme the stubby ‘toeses’ of Kardashians
Broads who look swell ‘til they open their yaps
Shut-up, honey. Unfasten your brassiere snaps…
All hail to New Joisey, the home of the oil slick
See the pretty colors stream o'er her highways
Yes, hail to Joisey, where the landscape's pure scum
Drink a toast to the reek of her rot ~ cheap Ripple and rum
"My words may be fact or fiction, only the reader can decide!"
Quote by Poet
Uplifting
Unless you have been very well blessed
Perfect pert breasts often sag over time
Let me be totally honest with you all
I once had magnificent mammaries ... but
Feeding my son for a year put paid to that
They now hang down like spaniel’s ears!
It's vital ladies purchase a well fitting brassiere
No one wants to see boobs flop like cows udders
Gravity isn’t always kind to us gals!
A figurine par excellence
An angel with brilliance
Dusky looks heavenly
Couture cools celestially
Damsel or diva delighting
Belle boldly bewitching
Svelte, slender and stylish
Dwells in a den so lavish
Luscious lips and aroma
Enticing is Lord Minerva
Dazzles in buttoned shirt
Glitters in gown and skirt
Any garment suits superb
Brassiere bikini or just garb..!!
>
> Mask wearer
> Grief bearer
>
> Police cars
> Jail bars
>
> Silver coffin
> Satin stuffin
>
> Pall bearer
> Grave terror
> Huge brassiere
> Elephant ear
>
> Bad skater
> Ice breaker
>
> Roach clip
> Fast trip
>
> Fast pass
> No class
>
> French kiss
> Tongue twist
>
> Leaves fall
> Amber autumnal
>
> Goggle wearer
> Human terror
>
> Bumper cars
> Seeing stars
>
> Broken hip
> Surprise slip
>
> Sexy legs
> Human pegs
>
> Piano player
> Ivories swayer
>
> God's teacher
> Our preacher
The rib of Eve is fashion's price
A sadistic trap of six-inch heels
Some masochist's torture device
Or for added bust appeal
To wrap the torso so austere
And lift upon bands of steel
The French grandly name the brassiere
Paris, an exacting Madame
Wielding her whip of sharp cashmere
No slouching, suck in that diaphragm!
A lady glides on blistered feet
Starved to belong, sweet tooth be damned
No sweat allowed in any heat
Only single digit sizes impress
Shunning all those more than petite
Sisters, what happened to progress?
Our feminist freedoms manifold
We deserve to be a mess!
Gray is lovelier than gold...
4/12/19
For Quirky Tercets contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
To medics, a breast is a purse
Enriching both doctor and nurse
A bra strap tattoo
Is better for you
Than an early ride in an hearse!
peppy porcelain puppy poops on the floor
wacky winged walrus whizzes on the door
enigmatic eonian elephant espies some bamboo
clever castrated cormorant shrieks yahoo
brassiere-busting bonobo barfs on the table
maniacal mystic monkey freaks on cable
sly sonambulent sloth bear slumbers in his cave
natty naughty nutty newt nests in a wave
dizzy ditzy doormouse dances with a broomstick
tawdry turgid tiger toys with his joystick
rugged recondite raccoon races up rut-marred roads
finicky febrile frog farts on frightened toads
this sonnet celebrates sassiness midst sundry incantations
~ surrenders to insanity and scoffs at punctuation
THE PARK BENCH AT CHRISTMAS
she shed first her hat, gloves and scarf.
later her glamorous coat, leggings and shoes.
she snatched off her dress to catch the eye,
then brassiere and panties but no man partook.
she plucked her eyebrows and hair off her scalp,
clipped fingers and toes and her iceberg nose,
then in utter horror, as she grew older, various parts
in a most vulnerable way began to fall away.
snowbirds begin to whisper of a skeletal noose —
the clickety-clack of a virgin’s jaw in maudlin movement,
as only the geese head South, her regret grows madder yet.
on the bench Madge sits in silvertone chattering bone
“all alone….all alone...all alone”
11/19/2018
Sandra Kendrick’s The Park Bench At Christmas Poetry Contest
Poem based upon a photo showing the skeleton of a woman
waiting on a park bench hoping to find a man tolove her
THAT FRIDAY FEELING
That Friday feeling, like a click of Oz heels,
catching the last balloon home, a sip of wine.
Finally free from a week on call, slipping into
my favorite pair of jeans and a loose brassiere.
That Friday feeling, of popcorn and theater,
an extra special thai dinner, cuddling up
with my date — Dr. Jekyll not Mr. Hyde —
that wonderful husband whose put work aside.
That Friday feeling, I warm up in my favorite chair,
write a poem with character, read one
or two books that have been waiting
for me. Catching up with shows on t.v.
2/25/2018
Silent One’s Friday Feeling Contest
Ode To A Gym Teacher
Amid brassiere and derrière
She strives to put her clothes on.
Her panties there, stockings here
The rest of it, she throws on.
At the mirror, shining bright
She struggles with her powder.
She holds her place with main and might
As others try to crowd her.
How can she dress so nimbly
In but five minutes of an hour?
The question’s answered simply:
She did not take a shower.
Barbara Dickenson
August 1966
Deja Vu; I believe that's what knowing minds call this anomaly.
Another Baroque tinged ballroom boasting bona fide blue-bloods.
Poorly feigned elan for the singing dilettante causing the cacophony.
The ennui in the room due, I'm sure, to the
artistic Carte Blanche given the chirping dud.
It's time someone demonstrate "avant-garde;" give them an actual reason for the sneers.
So on my way out I'll loose this brassiere and with a toss add some "bulbs" to the chandelier!
01/24/2018
(It's 10 lines on my tablet :D)
Assigned words:
Anomaly, Avant-garde, Baroque, Bona fide, Cacophony, Carte Blanche, Deja Vu, Dilettante, Elan, Ennui
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