A poodle lived in her shadow,
it was not ill-treated, just ignored,
its matted form
wandered around the house
looking to be noticed.
The living room
was littered with her underwear,
discarded bras, panties, garters and negligee.
I had no idea
why these things all came to rest here,
scattered around her like that.
I was an occasional pal of her son.
Once she fed a pink baby
from her own white flesh
as if not even noticing us boys.
The soft upholstery of the sittee
settled around her
proclaiming her sovereign presence.
The poodle hesitated to enter the room,
knowing, as we did,
we would never be part of her kingdom.
Positively Preposterous Puckheads...STILL!!!
Boy! They sure don't drive no Coupe DeVille.
My wife dragged me here against my will,
I just, Touched Down! in Palookaville!
Her Uncle Buck, buck-teethed and busted bunions,
Always smelled just a bit like onions.
He'd cuss me out while eating Funyuns!
Yep, that Codger's one big Curmudgeon!
Aunt Tildy, wore garters with lace tassels,
Bought lavender soap by the passels!
Had dreams of Knights at White Castles,
And she tells my wife, I'M the ASSLE!
Cousin Clem, I call him "Phlegm," ain't right in the head!
He's thirty-five! and still wets the bed!
And his folks still wonder why he's not wed!
I don't care what that Doctor Phil said!
Last, but not least, is that beast they call Boo!
That cur must be older than...Twenty-Two!
And bowels!...Man, that mutt sure could poo!
As luck would have it...he spackled my shoe!
Damn! Sun's setting, they're sweating, and I'm stuck here...STILL!!!
Oh Lord, please send me that Coupe DeVille!
I might as well start writing my will!
There's "Nightmares Galore" here in Palookaville!
****s Gluts
Societal Stutter
More Cuts
Suicidal Splutter
Serfs Ruts
Should be wary
Weary of the scary
Leery lairy Dairy Fairy
Utter Nutter
If's But's
Gutter Mutter
Tut Tutts
Because of their ilk
Silk road's now
Bow..cash cow
Kowtow to
Road of Milk
Nadirs Clutter
Wing Nuts
Flitter Flutter
Garters from Guts
Soften your butter
Everything shudders
Will explode
Due to the udders
Rivers life
Givers rotten
Nature rife
Delivers from
Strife forgotten
Moolah besotten
Milk powder
Or
Seafood chowder
Dairy highway dismay
All day diner
Cosplay for our new
Crueler ruler.. China
Hip hip Hooray!
A poodle lived in her shadow,
it was not ill-treated, just ignored,
its matted form
wandered around the house
looking to be noticed.
The living room
was littered with her underwear,
discarded bras, panties, garters and negligee.
I had no idea
why these things all came to rest here,
scattered around her like that.
I was an occasional pal of her son.
Once she fed a pink baby
from her own white flesh
as if not even noticing us boys.
The soft upholstery of the sittee
settled around her
proclaiming her sovereign presence.
The poodle hesitated to enter the room,
knowing, as we did,
we would never be part of her kingdom.
Tell me
Can a tree without roots
Ever bear fruit?
Tell me
Can a ship without sails
Ever make haste in the boundless sea?
Death creeps, cloying
Knotted garters frayed
Under the sea the sirens wail
Forgotten, ignored
But for the ones who live on
The feet do drag on
Swollen, septic, deeply forlorn
For those of us who are aware
Who live in a world; awake
Be sure to spare a thought
For us lowly wretched
Hope exists of course
There must be light for shadows
But fruit does surely rot
Make haste, the eye of the needle continues to narrow
A museum exhibit
Showed 200 years
Of clothing for women
In varied careers.
It also had items
To wear in the home –
The aprons and housecoats
Not oft in a poem.
The garters and girdles
Made us reminisce
About underwear parts
Not one woman would miss.
Certain styles have evolved
While some retro ones last,
But I’m happy some things
Have remained in the past.
She does all the wrong things, her brother said.
He had been raised by judgers.
He was judging his sister on their meter.
There was a frown on his face.
She is unique, fun, her own person.
Has a hilarious sense of humor,
She is a feminist, a flapper!
This was stated by a distant cousin.
I met her for myself much later.
She was smoking, unheard of in 1929.
Her garters were showing.
Her legs were thrown haphazardly over a chair.
Her brother yelled something and she gave him a strawberry.
My friend and I laughed.
I was amazed by her.
A woman who followed no one but herself in 1929.
I was impressed!
We are giddy,
witches wear fish-net stocking
and black garters
or dress up
as naughty female devils
our minds run after.
Party shops are
sexualizing fantasy
nighty gowns
and ruby
high-heeled slippers.
Halloween’s a dirty dream
for those not naturally
lechers or hookers.
What fun we shall have
when the kids are in bed
asleep from trick or treating,
hands may roam over flesh and form
stirred-up by festive drinking,
behavior far from a usual norm,
acts some may well regret
come the sober light of dawn.
He said,
"wear your bedroom shoes darling,
and all those black frilly things
that need garters, suspenders, and straps.
She smiled secretly to herself
knowing he would turn up in 2 day old shorts
unshaved, a little drunk and probably
forgetting to shower.
So when the time came
she surprised him in the boudoir
dressed in an old housecoat,
legs unshaved, and hair in curlers.
Typically, he turned off the light
and got right to it.
When Moses parted the waters
The mud squished up to his garters
So a crocodile said,
"If you'd rather be dead
Then guess where I'll chomp for starters!"
A poodle lives like a shadow.
It is not ill-treated, just ignored,
so it moves from room to room
but stays away from her couch.
The place is littered with her underclothes,
discarded bras, panties, garters and negligee.
I had no idea
why these things all came to rest here
scattered around her like that.
To me, she seemed to rule them all;
displaying them
as a kind of sovereign insignia.
I was an occasional pal of her son.
Once she fed a newborn from her own white flesh.
The soft upholstery seemed to settle around her,
closing its wide mouth about them both,
including all the discarded clothing.
The poodle wandered away,
perhaps sensing it would could never be
part of her regalia.
Shock horror, my alarm clock failed,
twas six AM on a Monday morning
this summers day was just dawning,
my shift started at six, going to be late
on probation now wondering my fate,
quickly washed and dressed, in car
only half hour drive so not too far,
luckily traffic was sparse quite desolate
scenarios running through my mind so late,
arrived to find car park deserted just empty
It’s usually half full of cars, at least about twenty,
ran across the foot bridge as fast as I could
boss will have my guts for garters, my blood,
reached machine for clocking in, total shock
thought I was seeing things looking at the clock,
unbelievable twas only quarter past one A M
never used that darn clock again, I did condemn,
will never forget that Monday for as long as I live
certainly a day I never want to ever relive.
8/2/2018
Monday’s poetry contest.
The Real Housewives
Sorry
Reality T.V Housewives
What's that all about
Happy Wife
Happy life
Jesus Christ
Thank God for Nannies
And Cleaner's
And Make up Artist's
Imagine any of these
Without the 3 R's to fall back upon
Rich's
Rrendering
Rhinoplastey
And a cheating Husband
All of the diamonds and all the plastic surgeons
Can't polish a turd
Even if it's covered in gold
Mutton dressed as lamb
Doesn't make a housewife
Real housewives are loved not built
Are Mother's
Not Reality Consumerist martyrs
Dressed in overpriced garters
With fake teeth
Fake smile's
Fake Boobs
And even faker marriages
With bleached and trimmed undercarriages
Slam
Sham
Film flam
Acting like there **** don't stink
Because they are so full of botox
They can't even blink
Can only be watched with the aid of a stiff drink
The mind boggles
How low can we go
Watch the show
Reading diaries of different discussion blots is considered to be akin to perusing the top shelf of a historical library section. Each label once worn drops like stones sinking into the carpet and creases of streamed floorboards. Floorboards do float don't they? Have you not seen the many that pass the doors? They are quicker than the doors anyway so best spray the armpits and go jogging then. Thought the woodworm athletic tribe. Gathering gabled garbled gargling gatherings greet giant Gregorian gargoyles getting generally gifted garters gutting grouped gismo geckos. How triumphant then? And hopefully a dance will last longer than a sharp snapped second. Seconds are neither seams, seamstresses, nor stressed sultanas in safaris and saris, nor are they acrimonious android alphabetical alpacas racing to a degree of a nine foot tail spin. Ring ran road. And a big lorry leering. Lecherously. Leeches lingering. And limbs lumber. How rather audaciously brilliant then. Isn't it? Kent jam race on the large spoon. Z meteorologic Z at fifty cones carving creative cosmoses' to sixteen apples in leotards cheering on the waves. 1 2 3 4 ~ and clam. Z
people who drop rubbish are so very very ignorant aren't they? BIN BAN BOOSH NOODLES AND CREAM.
Oh a lethargic tidal wave. Atomic power of circumference but dormant, hibernating, and still. But placing pineapple ears that stick up in triangular styles is not very fitting really as one should only use round shaped ears of peach due to the sheer fact that the ear lobe would be more appeasing to the wide girth of the trashed out portly container. Containers are neither carriers nor cartons and cartons carbonise so never attempt a wibble wobble jelly dance with eighteen trees and a silvery eyed gooseberry. Giant grabbing garters getting grateful gears. And the sole duty of a perpetual perplexes pink pointing polecat is to pinch proper placed plates pedantically. Semantic swans then. Ha. Xxxxx mythologized z z z z z at thirty four duvet covers writing notes to the mattresses to six fully plumped up pillows wiggling. Z astronomical.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.