Fashionably Poems | Examples

On The Strip

I have bought in boutiques
on Carnaby street,
stopped in stores galore
on the Champs-Élysées,
shopped 'til I dropped
on Madison Avenue,
and, what's more,
I've been seen to arrive,
fashionably late, on Rodeo Drive,
but one thing I hate,
and doubt I'll see, or there'll ever be,
as there's not much call,
for a linear row of shops downtown,
in a small Möbius strip mall.

Tho' Johann B. Listing (1808 – 1882),
rediscovered the non-orientable surface first,
Mr. August F.Möbius (1790 – 1868)
published his findings earlier and, well-versed,
 Euclidean geometry taught he,
while, his wife, Dorothea, danced provocatively,
in pole position, at a nightclub naughty,
and, where out at night, on a fun daytrip,
paying punters paid to ogle and see,
the ever-rousing Mrs. Möbius strip.

Harold tore too many Holes in his Jeans

Howard thought holes in his jeans was fashionably in style
He tore them all down the pants leg, wearing a smile
His mother told him he could not leave the house on his horse
Unless he wore long underwear, and he did it of course

He was glad he did, for these holes were in the wrong places
He had torn the holes in his jeans in some mighty weird spaces
Someone said how lovely the orange was showing through
Come see me tomorrow he told her, I’ll be wearing blue

The Color way

The shifting color-way of the sea,
from comfortable to extreme in dress.
Trash is not carried fashionably,
do not slap on this trend of distress.

There’s an image we strive to maintain,
I promise this does nothing for it.
A sad faux pas leaves only disdain.

The salty sweet smile of the ocean 
conveys your long held in aggression.

No way to say this delicately,
it’s destructive to be this careless.
Can’t argue with a necessity 
yet we live with this disgusting mess.

Dimethyl sulfide and acid rain 
invading your senses bit by bit.
Pollution’s such an awful refrain.

Let beach couture call you to action,
and Mother Earth write out the caption.

A Street Clown Named Dennis

has he got 
the balls 
to juggle? 

doesn’t he 
have 
balloons? 

only a knife 
and a photo 
of his mother

not meeting 
their gaze
only walking by,
fixed eyes on 
the horizon

he walks down the block party
where mothers
hold children in fear

and Dennis is in a trance 
dancing toward
the uncertain nothing to leave

toward another town 
start anew 
parties in high rise apartments
of fashionably well-to-do

with a mason jar of beetles 
and a guitar with one string

the toast of 
Bean Town 
or Broadway

the life of 
the pity party
the talk of 
small town U.S.A.

alley cat of Allen town

ebony like a puma, velvet pretty
she prowls and growls and moans in her sleep
like a little black dress, fashionably chic and insightful
there is purring now, her dreams might have shifted
the toms in the alley remain in hiding, fearful
she can be such a tease, and sometimes a torment
her scratches are serious; she is not afraid to bite
the howling and growling is back
alley cat of Allentown

Hit by a Stegosaurus Tail

the den is as dark as the inside of a witch’s hat, macabre as can be
someone with a green face and pointed nose sits across from me
her nose gives a twitch, there is too much make up around her eyes
her hat is pointed with inverted peak at the top, no big surprise.

my partner is dressed as a computer, with a square metallic head.
Her date is Dracula, red blood around mouth as if he’s eaten some dead.
my date is uncomfortable, I can tell by the way his eyes move around.
a more unlikely candidate for a Halloween party can rarely be found.

table is set in Victorian crystal; there is a pile of something on the plate.
hostess has just arrived dressed in drag; she is fashionably late.
We clap for her, for her entrance deserves some kind of applause.
Walking past our table is a dark grizzly with the longest bear claws.

Let’s get out of here my date says as a tail hits him in the neck.
Tail of a large sparkly purple stegosaurus who stops to genuflect.
Giving the hostess his arm, making his way back now.
Tail hits my man again. He jumps up and says “Holy cow!”

dress for yourself

dress for yourself
wear your pretty
be fashionably you

overdress
wear glamor
wear glitz

do what makes you
feel the best
dress for yourself

Laces And Soulful Paces

like opposite shoe sides, tightly secured together
meeting each other’s needful strides, two different species 
making sure-footed, secure bow-ties – though truth seldom in
mating’s many polished, too often only briefly
                                  vowed male and feminine lies~
                    
                         wide-open 
complicit eyes – love’s poetic tries endearingly 
written and playfully recited-spoken -- 
both faux and pure leather, cured, laced
though not always eternal, for the breeding moment
fashionably unbroken

or one night we stand lie down together
as the house-glass and stone

sometimes no greater evil~ just the separation of alone

BROKEN MONIKU short beards

seemingly fashionably noveau-
                                                      as  yesteryear sepia photos show

Harlequin Right

A mannequin stands  
in the neon of night
head slightly canted
harlequin-right
fashionably clothed
in the brand-names of youth
arms shiny rods
with no digits forsooth
if able I think
his thumb he would raise
and he’d give me a wink.

Poor Fairy Godmother

The carriage arrived at the ball a few minutes fashionably late.
Which was exactly what Fairy Godmother had hoped for.
However, the carriage was empty.
The door opened and no one appeared.
Where is she? F.G. asked the footman.
He did not talk.
Neither did the driver.
Fairy Godmother was not allowed the luxury of this kind of mistake twice.
Her supervisors appeared from the ether.
First you let Snow White run off with a dwarf,
And now you have lost Cinderella.
What kind of a reenactment are you running here?
At least she got Red Riding Hood home safe, said Pinocchio.
His nose grew a foot in seconds.
That cinched the deal.
They revoked Fairy Godmother’s license.

Boy With a Skateboard

Boy With a Skateboard.

Her heart pounds, the cup in trembling hand
The waitress assures he’ll be here soon
The minutes pass like hours
Her face doesn’t betray her anxiety
Putting herself out there
Easily hurt, another sip of time passes.

His cap is fashionably back to front
Skateboard in hand, wheels facing out
Too old to be surfing the path, surely?
His nonchalance might be a show
Her pretty eyes deserve more, but
She’ll put up with his childish
Hobby for now.

He leaves, another show of dominance
Mutters something about sitting outside
She stays, finishes the coffee. Her cup’s
Drained. Unable to fight, her phone
To her ear. In he comes and they speak
Face to face on the phone. He picks up
His skateboard, I can’t see but imagine her 
Eyes rolling skyward, thinking will he
Ever grow up? Probably not, but she’ll
Carry on for now.

David Cox 23/04/22

The Hands of Time

Does Time really run like clockwork,
True to the dictates of mankind,
Never more than a mill-second out?

Or does someone or something have a hand,
In giving some of us more time than others,
With many arriving at their destination dead on time, 
And others cheating death more than once,
By being fashionably late, 
With many frozen in time,
Awaiting their arrival?

And if that is so,
Do the thinkers get the most time,
And the more impulsive less?

Do we all travel through time at the same pace,
Or do some of us have more time to waste?

Can our actions speed up time,
Or is it inaction that is the time killer?

Maybe we need to take a leaf out of the good book, 
And accept like Jesus did that our time here is based,
On the task we have been set,
And that we  get to stay as long as that takes,
No more, no less,
And clocks will never accurately measure,
What is set in stone, 
By a different set of hands?

Missy D the Fashionable Duck

Missy Dee was as fashionably dressed as any duck ever was.
We saw elaborate clothing on her duck tail and her fuzz.
There was extra pizazz in her little duck waddle for sure.
She was queen of the pond. The cattails bowed at her demure.

Young, Beautiful Spring

young, beautiful spring,
fashionably dressed in green;
buds blossoming as
bumble bees and butterflies
float with carefree abandon



Springtime Beauty Tanka Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by M. L. Kiser
Date written: 03/12/2022

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