Long Caro Poems
Long Caro Poems. Below are the most popular long Caro by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Caro poems by poem length and keyword.
Our hot girl summer rolls on - like lava downhill or male models doing - anything.
We’re in Athens, Georgia, yes, it’s hotter elsewhere - but you can die in the sun - is this really a competition?
Fashionistas and trendsetters are adorning themselves in fluorescent lime green this summer. Making it the must-have statement color for the cool kid's club. The whole aesthetic was inspired by Charli XCX’s lime-green album cover for ‘Brat.’
Now, before you roll your eyes at the state of America, where silly people are bilked by influencers - isn't that what happened in the 60s with ‘flower-power?’ Wasn’t that ‘counterculture’ flagging, where everything from school buses to bikinis were flower adorned, driven by bands like the Beatles and umm.. [fill in the blank]?
So, we tripped (sounded psychedelic) to the mall of Georgia, to shop for unnecessary, lime-green things. Nail polish (which I think eats), beach bags, coverups, Crocs, friendship bracelets (cause we’re 13-year-olds), Cinnabon's - which aren’t technically green but are delicious and the Apple store - because it makes us happy.
I’ve read, or heard it said that “malls are dying.” Not this one, on a weekday mid-morning it was packed. The line for the eighteen-movie-plex looked like Spring Festival (Chinese New Years) at the Beijing airport.
Sadly, it’s time to admit that as 20-year-olds we’ve aged out of the “Clare’s” esthetic. A 12-year-old in line to get her ears pierced, looked at me, while I was looking at friendship bracelets, like I was her grandmother and I felt it - it was real.
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Two songs to go with this:
This Girl's In Love (Live At HMH) by Trijntje Oosterhuis
Riviera Life by Caro Emerald
Woman in Chains
Inner child blinks back tears through the cheval glass
At a bruised reflection staring back,
Battered by the hand of perfection,
Wearing chains in glimmering pearls deception,
Beauty and the beast - beauty now turned beast -
Though in the grip of vogue,
Restrained designs fettering creativity,
Beneath the veneer of outlandish style,
Wears hand-me-downs;
Wounded dove, kissed with a rose from the mist
Gasping on the runway of perfection
Beneath the blazing sun of cutting tongues
Behind made up faces,
Disappears into a chalice -fiery crucible -
Of coveted, borrowed, chains –
A dark kaleidoscope of shifting shapes and sizes -
Of stolen sublime – esteem devoured – ravished -
In runway parades of opaque flawless delusion
Skin hanging from a bony dress frame
Of starving wings scarred by black veils of distortion
With the salt of conformity heaped onto tender wounds
Searing tender flesh reaching out
In manacles for models of the meticulous
Bound up in chains of unforgiven imperfection
Forged in expectation’s subtle abusing links
With parables of precise precision
Handmaid designed by faultless perfection unseen the in the reflection
Till, clothed in a sheath of a new creation,
Slips out of leg shackles, greased by grace,
The inner child in somersaults soars on wings re-stored.
About 30 million people suffer from Anorexia Nervosa – both women and men. It can be a fatal disease effecting heart, kidney and liver functions. It is most prevalent in teenagers and young women. Anorexia took the life of singer Karen Carpenter, ballerina Heidi Guenther and model Isabella Caro. Princess Diana suffered from Anorexia. The recovery rate is very low – about 20%. This is definitely the story of Beauty and the Beast.
8-26-20
Contest: Woman in chains
30 lines
My love left me a letter,
"Dear one, I hate to make you frown,
But there seems to be a part
That's missing from my heart.
I need to find it
Before I can settle down."
Then she sent me a postcard,
It read, "Caro, ciao from Rome."
She loved the music, food, and wine,
And the Vatican was fine,
And she didn't know
When she'd be coming home.
She caught a cold in London,
Thought she'd glimpsed the King at tea.
The Thames was far less than sublime,
But Big Ben keeps perfect time,
And the galleries
Reminded her of me.
She got a tan in Rio,
The beach there is divine.
Confessed she'd had a little fling,
And leaned a most peculiar thing,
That Brazilian kisses
Don't compare to mine.
Then in a card one morning,
"Dear one, I'm coming home.
The world's too big and much too wide
Without you by my side,
And I've realized
I didn't need to roam."
Now my love's done with traveling,
And she knows in her heart and mind
That the thing she went to find
Was the love she left behind
And wasn't missing,
It was right here all the time.
Author's note: To paraphrase Dorothy in "The Wizard of Oz", sometimes if you go looking for your heart's desire, you don't have to look further than your own backyard.
I have rules for my writing, believe it or not and as a med-student, for instance, I try to avoid a lot of concrete medical lexis.
I’m learning things, medical things, like how our bodies are chock-full of “gooey gopher guts,” and the last thing I want is some poor reader upchucking in their morning joe.
tweakments is a term for those thousands of tiny surgical enhancements that people with a little disposable cash are using to keep age in abeyance or Instagram impress.
Fixing those tweakments, over-done or overdue, has created
something we call the ‘beauty repair’ economy.
Which involves reversing earlier treatments, like un-botoxing,
de-fillering and un-tattooing - the side-effects of old beauty booms.
Let’s wax poetic...
The wrinkled corners, botox injected
the boobies that gravity hath wrecked
the pump which kept the thing erect
they’re not just mending work inept
or longterm add-ons that become defective
they're aesthetic treatments that age like damage.
Trends can gradually become troublesome
needing rehabilitating and reconstruction
reclamation, restoration or body remodeling
these procedures have few deductibles
but they fuel the beauty repair economy.
Correcting or managing the stacking side-effects
of Ozempic (hair and face) or leaky butt implants
cost way more money than you might expect
to fix the Instagram fads that no longer impress
Beauty ‘ideals’ have always been moving targets,
and now they’ve morphed into the beauty repair market.
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songs for this:
Revolution by MonaLisa Twins
Beautiful by Triangle Sun
Dr. Wanna Do by Caro Emerald
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upchuck = experience emesis
tweakments = small surgical beauty treatments that tend to spiral out of control.
The wind is up and the landscape is changing.
Like a bureaucratic comedy, tomorrow’s forecast calls for
‘strong winds,’ as if the gusts we’re seeing now aren’t
physical enough.
The big yachts that usually cluster offshore are gone.
They moved out, heading for deeper, more sheltered
anchorages, like the Golfe de Saint-Tropez.
We went to the outdoor Saint Tropez market this morning,
to get brugnon, abricots, rouge cherries, fresh bread and
tapenades. Fishermen in the harbor were working with
quiet anxiety to lash down and secure their boats.
On the beach, ocean waves are boring in on shore - sharper,
faster and frothier, rolling in more dramatically, tucking down
at the last second to break on the beach in sudden, forward
rolls - like you see on the gulf of Mexico.
Gulls, herons and swifts hang in the air, like sculptures in orbit,
not flapping - just rocking back and forth above the waves.
Clouds rush by, like a ticker-tape Rorschach test and the
umbrella pines are starting to shimmy like bobblehead dolls.
I wonder if the giant show kites will be up tomorrow,
the big 40-foot long ones - the whales, dragons, caterpillars,
and octopuses - I hope so.
We’ll have to watch those from the hills, because sand whips
along the beach, flowing like a sandpaper river to sting
bare ankles like swarms of bees.
We had to tie-off our suites sheer Belgian linen drapes earlier,
they were thrashing like living flags of surrender.
I delight in this kind of domestic chaos, it makes me feel alive.
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Songs for this:
Riviera Life by Caro Emerald
Sail on sailor by the beach boys
Colors Of The Wind - End Title by Vanessa Williams
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notes
brugnon = a French nectarine-like fruit
Tapenade = a dip of puréed olives, capers, and anchovies and olive oil
114.
My 27th Leaf
Picked thee on head high
With crowd my side by
From batchmates away
To them again, hey
It's called here “apoy”
A highschool batchmate
Parish affiliate
Rich and religious
Family Venus
Of the Ilawod
Fourth month and sixth day
It's a Good Friday
After procession
Night lights were turned on
Before the “duaw”
Where people cluster
On banwa proper
Second last caro
Float San Enchero
A Station of Cross
Again with batchmates
Like the former years
Somehow miracle
Rare get-together
The Lord bonds us here!
-04/06/2012
(Dumarao)
*My Toladas Collection
La Mona cambió su estilo
Al lucir su nuevo vestido
Su cabello enchinado
Sufrió un estirado!
Su carita neutral fué embarrada
Con maquillaje que ni jabón pudo separarla.
Color bolde de rojo colorado
Ni sabemos como sus bembes pudo abarcarlo
Pestañas azules y cejas de 3 colores
Con ojos casi abiertos sufriendo dolores.
Mejillas de rosita morado
Circulaba sus cachetes enforrados
Alineardo sus ojos con rabos de gato
El pueblo sufrió un grande espanto!
Al saber y conocer
Su sencilles se echó a perder.
Bajo toda esa pintura de maquillaje
Dejó la Pobre Mona con un rasquillaje!
Con tacones de cinco pulgadas
Los zapatos de ella aún se burlaba.
“Mona! Mona! Quitame de tus pies
Bótame de toda una vez!”
La Mona se vistió botando el algodón
Al ponerse vestimenta de Seda hasta en el botón!
Con correas (cintos) tan apretada
Como una faja le quedaba!
Al ponerse sus lentes de sol
Lentes de estilo caro por diseñador
“Hay, Mona...Mona! Si te piensas ser guapa
Por qué te tapas
Bajo las onzas y libras e disfrace
Que solo esclaviza tu enlace?”
“Ahora...Ya no soy Mona...
Soy Princessa sin corona...”
Con su nuevo lucir de apariencia
Nadie fue testigo de su desaparencia
Sino La Mona de Mona salió al tomar tres pasitos
Con sus nuevos zapatitos.
El orgullo creciendo pasito a pasito
La tumbó dejándole un raspaito
Al caer de rodillas
Y al quebrar su tobillo torcida...
“Ay, Mona...Mona...De Mona siempre serás
La Mona, aunque luzca bien o mal, no cambia jamás!”
Aunque te vistas con algodón o de Seda
La Mona de Mona siempre te queda!
No hay de que lucirse
Solo desarollarse al abrirse!
Aunque otros brillen
Y le luzca bien el guille
Antes otros quien comentan y dicen
No hay nada mejor que encontrarse uno mismo
Y lucir su propio rumbo y ritmo...?•