Long Fashion designer Poems
Long Fashion designer Poems. Below are the most popular long Fashion designer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fashion designer poems by poem length and keyword.
Pepper the pink and red poodle with her nose in the air
Walked down the runway without a concern or care
She knew the peons were watching her swag
But barely gave them even the hint of a wag
These dogs are beneath me, I am the great one, she thought
Pepper the Perfect did what she needed, did what she ought
She marched down that runway in an elegant way.
Not caring about the mongrels who were watching that day
Her reds and her pinks were made by famous fashion designer Glee.
He only designed for a few actresses and film stars as important as she.
Pepper had given him his start, and she did this as a favor to him.
He had asked her to smile, but that would have cost extra with vim.
Attainment of success, stardom and fame
Remains the ultimate dream of many
Who seek the publication of their name
Upon the future pages of history
The journey to such a destination
Requires effort and dedication
Those who at last gain such recognition
Enjoy a well deserved satisfaction
Some celebrities who make this journey
Find coping with this new life can be rough
There's an invasion of their privacy
And the demands of stardom can be tough
They then turn to some drug to ease the stress
Whether it's alcohol or other stuff
Soon their entire life can become a mess
And dealing with it's pressures can be rough
Bouts of anxiety and depression
Are what they have to endure constantly
Some develop a serious addiction
That may lead to suicidial tendency
Women tend to choose a gentler ending
Like drug overdose or a means that's neat
Some may opt to end it all by hanging
Mindful not to mess up the body sheath
Some men go for a violent ending
By putting a bullet through their own head
Others jump off a bridge or tall building
Seeking to ensure that they will be dead
Those aspiring to fame and stardom
Pursue your dream and goal diligently
Just be mindful of how things can become
And seek to be guided accordingly
Whitney Houston(singer, actress) – drug overdose
L'Wren Scott(fashion designer, model) - hanging
Kurt Cobain(singer, songwriter) – bullet to head
Tony Scott(Academy award winning actor) – jumped off bridge
Once upon an age, you twinkle like star,
Far so high; among others, up the sky.
Even your parents wonder what you are!
Before birth, both admire your being- afar,
Though can't actually point out you that high,
Once upon an age, you twinkle like star.
Months in the womb, your dance to stars' guitar;
Actively signal the cool sky, goodbye.
Even your parents wonder what you are!
As you left heaven without any scar,
For earth to fulfill what your fate standby-
Once upon an age, you twinkle like star.
Earthly quests bring scars from its reservoir...
Somewhat grace, favour and prayer bely,
Even your parents wonder what you are!
Fortune to everyone, has its radar-
Fashion Designer gets yours to thy eye.
Once upon an age, you twinkle like star,
Even your parents wonder what you are!
Young and famous
Yeah! We’re young and we are famous!
We’ve got money and we can love and laugh.
Yeah! We’re young and famous!
Everyone knows us and they all want our autograph.
Yeah! We’re young and we are famous!
We are super stars who hang out in the famous bars.
Yeah! We’re young and we are famous!
We are on the T.V. and we drive fast cars.
They all want us and they all want to be us.
We have so many friends and an endless amount of love.
Happy every day and no day is ever the same;
You wish you could have my life but I would never throw this away.
I guess it beats working for a living.
All my life on screen and we are winning!
Fame and fortune; surrounded by angels and stars.
We used to see celebrities on the magazines, now that is what we are.
We’re touring the States and every other place;
We are globetrotters; we are young and we are famous!
They all know my name
And they all want my fame.
My face is everywhere; I have a stylist for my hair
And a fashion designer gives me clothes for free to wear.
We will live forever! Under the spotlight.
We party hard from morning, straight through to the end of the night.
Yeah, we have made it and we’re getting paid to say things;
We love our lives and this dream will never end…
We are able to buy everything.
Who needs a normal job?
I’ve got the best one.
I’m young and I am famous!
I’m a movie star, a T.V. star, a rock ‘n’ roll star
And I am having so much fun!
(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
Pepper the pink and red poodle with her nose in the air
Walked down the runway without a concern or care
She knew the peons were watching her swag
But barely gave them even the hint of a wag
These dogs are beneath me, I am the great one, she thought
Pepper the Perfect did what she needed, did what she ought
She marched down that runway in an elegant way.
Not caring about the mongrels who were watching that day
Her reds and her pinks were made by famous fashion designer Glee.
He only designed for a few actresses and film stars as important as she.
Pepper had given him his start, and she did this as a favor to him.
He had asked her to smile, but that would have cost extra with vim.
SHE IS LADY ZOYA
From rich bucket bills of grandeur bliss
Dawns wobbling chills from cruel treachery
Harsh is the murmur of the night, my Lady
Has Aidos spang slain as disgrace ink reign?
Swarm of bees threats and afire the days
Seems... to live life, one must be on break away
Gowns and golds gone like a storm
Tears a rain clouding the seeds of reform
Never-say-die attitude the tarring rock
Ah! The Lady Zoya got this trait in blocks
Shut down on countless turbulent thuds
Still, she arise like a Monarch from the mud
Royal blood dance viscous to her veins
But to burlesque shows, she swayed in vain
For her children: Nicholas and Sasha.
Her picturesque-like the late Princess Diana.
Huge fire almost killed her children
She changed. Later became, a fashion designer
Simon Hirsch saw a diamond from a spread of roughs
He married and dressed her in lovelier stuffs
The tambourine music of war took her husband life
Penthos again bathe her ever wounded thrive
Yet, love abounds never did she succumb
She strive to strum melodies from the crumbs
________________________________________________
**Zoya Konstantinovna Ossupov is a Russian countess,
a young cousin to Czar Nicholas II during the Russian revolution and World War I..
Terms:
Aidos: shame, can range from a sense of respect
Penthos: grief, suffering
©
9:38pm; November 11, 2014
I remember her garments of assigned spiritual gifts.
I remember her beautiful fashions and modeling shows.
I remember the first book she wrote and published.
I could never forget her Gospel meetings.
Her magazine was an unforgettable magazine.
In one sense, one could reckon her garments to be
permeated with a fruit of the spirit; and putting on
a garment could symbolize putting on a spiritual fruit.
This was indeed an art form, poetry walking across a stage.
Yes, I call to remembrance those fruitful and
productive years. That picture of the little boy
on the cover of 'Hope Magazine' was priceless, and
it spoke volumes. If I can remember all these things
about Kat, I have no doubt that it is impossible for God
to forget her and her unique brand of Christian ministry.
I also remember her adversities, challenges, and trials.
I cannot forget her illnesses nor her walking through the
valley of the shadow of death. None of God's servants has
ever been put on the shelf in the way we deem 'on the shelf'.
God is Sovereign and works in mysterious ways, His wonders to
perform. God is not one to be locked into a form or pushed into a
corner. Truly, like the song says, He is always working. Whether we
find ourselves on a shelf, or on a stage communicating Christ, or flying
across the sea to reach lost souls, God is always working. Furthermore,
God is presently working in, with, for, and through Kat. Also, you and me.
082422PS
Tribute to a fashion designer
"The forest is my loyal friend A Delphic Shine to me."
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Greek Poet
Who is always there, through the good times and bad?
Who welcomes me when I'm happy, when I'm sad?
It's mother nature, my wise and trusted friend
Who teaches and comforts me until the end.
She's a philosopher - look and you can see.
She shows the world how to live in harmony.
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
When will people begin to comprehend?
A psychologist, she gives me peace of mind,
Swaying grass and leaves my troubles far behind.
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
Will you console me, to my mind, attend?
A mathematician, so brilliant and keen -
Renders symmetry in flowers to be seen.
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
How do Fibonacci numbers ascend?
An engineer, who will make things work just right,
Giving owls big eyes so they can see at night.
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
What can you build, from mankind to defend?
A fashion designer who sure invents with flair,
From fish in Tahiti, to birds in the air.
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
If printed on a dress, what would my wife spend?
An artist, she has skill no man can surpass -
The beauty of a lake from a mountain pass.
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
Your creations, can Van Gogh not transcend?
A poet, she gives words to a frog who waits.
This creature, who says "jug-o-rum" when he mates.
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
Have humans, a better word, ever penned?
A musician, she made the sweet nightingale
And creatures up and down the musical scale.
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
Who weaves a better symphonic blend?
A magician, she takes a bug that likes to squirm
To make a gorgeous butterfly from a worm.
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
Who else could cause my mind to bend?
A love coach, who tends to all the heart encloses -
Meadows of swaying grass, beautiful roses
Oh, wise and trusted friend -
Will you still be here if my heart should rend?
Dear mother nature, my wise and trusted friend,
I know you'll teach and comfort me to the end.
The transport - imposing, loud, on time.
Rising smoke, intoxicating black cloud.
She steps past the tracks, onto the platform.
Ebonic eyes float up to her waiting kin.
She ascends the steel stairs, as hearts
Beat faster, and shyness slides behind
Mom and Dad. Dark braids, high cheeks,
Red lipstick - all envelops her mystique.
Melodic voice, a fashion designer. She
Arrives from the Big Apple - New York City.
She seems quite like Auntie Mame,
And Like That Girl, cute and single.
She’d collect Egypt, Africa and Europe;
Display them and marry a movie star’s son.
Like Brady Bunch Jan, she interests me.
The transport leaves its tracks behind.
A man came up to me at the train station and said
"I just got out of jail"
I asked "What did you do to end up in jail"
He replied "My Girlfriend narked on me"
"Why did she nark" I enquired
"I got into selling drug's and brought a gun,
"She found the gun and phoned the police"
"Perhaps she was afraid" I stated
"I shoud have a go at her" he said
"perhaps you should try another job,
"think about it, in sale's you can make thousands
'in sales you could sell a house"
"Allow yourself to dream"
"You could become a fashion designer"
"you could become a football coach"
"you could become a nurse"
"A sales man I know took his wife
around the world eight times
a football coach dosen't have to worry
about his girlfriend finding guns"