Long Hourglass figure Poems

Long Hourglass figure Poems. Below are the most popular long Hourglass figure by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hourglass figure poems by poem length and keyword.


The Journal Junkie Meets the Destitute Dweller

*Holly (Vault Dweller)*

Hey bartender,
Who's that girl over there,
The one nursing the whiskey in the corner,
She has that press hat one that makes her look...strangely debonair.

*Bartender*

That'll be our little Ms. Piper Wright,
She runs the local paper,
Spends all day looking for a story then types the rest of the night,
Bit standoffish at first but quite the looker.

*Holly*

Hahah I'll say,
Just look at that red trench-coat and suit,
And that piercing stare,
Comes off tart as a mutfruit,
But it just bounces right off her wavy hair,
And goooosssh those lips,
Their silky sheen betrays the steel of her gun,
Dangling from her buxom hips,
Armed with an unabashed tongue,
Clearly her deadliest weapon,
Complimenting her feisty spirit perfectly preserved in an hourglass figure both fair and young,
Fully stocked with an arsenal of wisecracks, worthy armaments for free speech's most sensuous bastion,
Avid journalistic endeavors personify her inquisitive nature,
Reporting the most controversial conspiracy or the latest Publick Occurrences,
With jaw-dropping headlines fueled by her insatiable determination not even the mayor can escape her snooping typewriter,
How this vixen has eluded both the aging of time and voraciousness of lovers is beyond me,
And I think I'm allllmost drunk enough to go over and talk to her,
Should only take me another couple of rounds before I'll have the guts to...ah who am I kidding,
I'm over 200 years old there's no way she'd ever go for a pre-war relic regardless of who well preserved.

*Bartender*

News flash buddy, she's single,
Read today's headlines and you might find the subtle hints,
Listen to her playful comments of life and lust weaved in-between the innocuous babble,
The words may take their place in the articles but her true message is hidden underneath the paper's yellow tint,
She's young and lookin for love just the rest of us here in the Wasteland,
So what've you got to loose hotshot go get her,
Or do you need another round on the house give you the upper hand?

*Holly*

Well damnit bartender one more round it is,
If you don't from her till morning it'll be one of two things,
Either I've been utterly rejected and lying in a ditch,
Or I'll be too busy ignoring the world trying to make her mine.
Form: Rhyme


My Genies Only Wish

The sun, has begun to rise, lifting up, to the sky, from the oceans horizon, on a beautiful morning, as I take, my daily run, along the smooth, warming, yet wet sand, now putting my footprints, in first, before the thousands, of others, have erased my trace, forever, along with, the washing, of the tides, that rolls in and out, as I notice, far off, something shiny, like a mirrored reflection, sticking out, in my path and so when, I stopped, to rest, I then bend over, to found it, to be, an old, lavishly ornate, delicately designed bottle and with, dusting it off, I turned it over, to then hesitantly, remove the stopper, when there was, a vibration, to it, as it suddenly came, to life, while a light mist, then pours, from the spout, followed by, a thick cloud, of bellowing smoke, began to gather and in shock, I took, a step back, tripping, over myself, as I watched, in slow motion, it fall, from my hand, in a race, with me, of who lands first, on the sandy earth, from in the air, as I, then soon, could make out, the hourglass figure, which emerged, of a young, blonde woman, a goddess, of the olympians, a vision to behold, which is dressed, in silky white, harem style attire, with veils and with her long blond hair, braided in a single rope, down her back, as she sinks, to her kneels and with eyes lowered and her hands, clasped together, in a sign, of abandoned submission.

So now, after moments, of a pause, I heard, the voice, of an angel, the sounds of, a hypnotic trance, in her words, as she spoke, saying that she, was a genie and that, since I, had released her, from her solitary prison, that I, am hers, to now command, as her eyes, then raised, to gaze up, at me, seeing the tears, course down, her cheek, making puddles, as I, could feel her pain and the lifetimes, she lead, for others, taking nothing, for herself, I then, had only one thought, that came to mind, as I, did not wish, anything, for myself, but with one wish, I granted to her, was her freedom and as, she stared deeper, into my eyes, looking in, my heart and soul and reading my mind, I could feel, her there, as she smiled, then placed, her slender arms, around my neck and softly pressed, her lips, to mine, as she then said, your wish, is my command, in breathless delight.

Conflicting Societal Mixed Messages 1

This sole jeering, albeit grace
full soulful foo fighting - base
sic primate approaching - at a pace
faster than prefer 
     hubble even lace
sing electric shoes to 
     evade senescence - aging case
closed, asper near

     ring finish line,
     nope, no exit, 
     (not even with Jean-Paul
     Charles Aymard
     Sartre) to displace
non negotiable fact
     of life and death,
     a blink'n, wink', n 

    nod in sacred space
time continuum,
     quaffing unforeseen
     adventures extant 
     within Alsace Lorraine
regarding germane 
     human league race,
whether master fully baiting,

    goo goo dolls,
Barbie included, who enviably
retained hourglass figure
     hood never display trace
of aging, always beast
towed with fields a twitter with 
     my little “chickadee” face,
nor akin to me, 

     when solitary lad
     didst pretend (imaginary)
     beastie boy played chase,
while girls made believe to
     no longer remain chaste,
viz primitive rued
     amen tree snapchat,
     shutterfly, and instagram

     future memories glommed
     courtesy once upon
     time this "mama's boy"
     only brother, now ace
sip ping his herbal
     elixir night cap suffusing
     warm glow to face,
this while count

     ting black crows
     nsync forever 
    longing to kiss with
     heart felt being brace
sing against unrequited love
     succumbing to gravity,
     and unable to erase
ravages of aging

     (YIKES) completing
     last two plus months
     regarding LIX 
     orbitz riding roughshod
     thru ethereal aerospace
recalling early boyhood snippets

no idea why, when taking a
    mister bubble 
    bath with siblings,
an elder and younger
sister nonetheless!

Premium Member A Sand Goddess Arises

A Sand Goddess Arises

Fervently unveils his seaside Pygmalion
At the pied a terre a sand goddess arises
Sand casted are his piteous passions in sunstruck warm sand
Stuck are her arms and legs trapped, controlling her very soul
The recollection clears, an object of his affection a birth
There is an energy sensed as sand and water caress his fingers
He beholds, if only Aphrodite answers his prayer
her breath of life be given this inanimate object
Her saintly face faintly appears
Features delicate, her hair etched in his mind
His fingers gently shape and capture her likeness
On Sandy Beach Lane he takes refuge from racing thoughts,
thoughts of her that cannot be silenced
An interview makes me ponder
I ponder on her significance 
I listen to his cry, his laments
I grow fonder of the lovers
Inside their lifeless, godless, empty shells
consumed by echoes in refrains 
I hear the volatile voices carry from both their lips,
exhaustion unfurled by angers dance
If she’d only see for herself, he bares a lost stricken soul
Beach wear suits him nicely, flip flops and hat adorn him
Kind is he to her as he scoops out sand 
Stooping over are his bronzed shoulders
as he sculps feminine curves an hourglass figure
An alluring Amazon an apotheosis angel* emerging from the sand
At the pied a terre a sand goddess arises
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.

Weighty Worries

Those endless talks of 
giving the fat a trim
Beauty is now the 
monopoly of the slim! 

Sinuous and slender
The hourglass figure
The thinner, the better.

Dieting and slimming 
down tricks
ofcourse selling like hot 
cakes

Tis a pity, I can't eat to 
my heart's content and 
desire
for rounded figures they 
no longer admire.

But as long as 
scrumptious samosas
keep frying in pans
and delicious pizzas
keep baking in 'em' ovens
it'd be hard to keep the 
damned calorie count
or to live in fear of the 
expanding waistline 
mount.

Ah those mouth-
watering deep-fried 
kebabs
are entirely to blame for 
my yo-yo dieting! 

Gosh to cut down on 
cheese and butter slab
is one tough way to get 
rid of body flab.

This war against weight
is weighing upon my 
mind
instead of being simply 
plump and straight
I gotta maintain teen 
contours and curves I 
find! 

You do know this is a 
war you've got to be 
winning.
It's those extra pounds 
and not the war you 
have to be losing.
Or the other skinny 
lasses will be staring 
grinning.

Ah but all young ladies 
must as well beware
dragoness Anorexia's 
engulfing lair
or how her crony Bulimia 
too can ensnare! 

So pals better be about ill-
health precautious
rather than being overly 
so weight-conscious. :)
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Sand Promises -POTW

Flip flops and straw hat adorn him, beach wear suits him nicely
Kind is he to her as he scoops into a bucket measuring precisely

Casted are his piteous passions in sunstruck warm sands
Gently shaping and capturing her likeness, she is in skilled hands

Stooping over chin to knee he bares bronze shoulders glimmering  
Her features delicate, her hair etched in his mind flowing, shimmering                                                                                                                     

An energy is sensed as sand and water caress through his fingers
Behold if only Aphrodite answers his prayer, he pauses and lingers

Recollection clears a birth, breath of life be given this inanimate object
A saintly face faintly appears, he’s fallen in love with his imminent project

Sculpting feminine curves slowly surfacing, an hourglass figure shaped
An alluring amazon controls his very soul, an apotheosis angel draped

Belief in a statue which comes to life, vehemently pangs the phenomenon
Alas the last touches fini, fervently he unveils his seaside Pygmalion

And without further ado, emerging from the ivory sand, he prizes
An obsession his idée fixe at the edge of the pier, a sand goddess arises
© I Am Anaya  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

U Love U

A lot of people are searching for love
Looking for a mate to compliment themselves
Feeling unfulfilled, incomplete, the worst half
Looking for that other half to feel complete
But some of those people searching for love
Don't love themselves half as much
Looking for someone to love them
Because it’s hard to love the one in the mirror
The world tells you that you’re not OK
You're too fat, too skinny, too tall, too short, 
Too black, too white, too flashy, too plain, 
Teaching that an hourglass figure is the goal
And a muscular frame is the key of happiness
If you don't love you, nobody else can
Because people love confident people
People that's confident in themselves
The key for confidence is in loving self
Once you love yourself, you go for the best
Not for last place, but first place
Many must learn to love self
Or at least force yourself in that love
Learn yourself, trust yourself, and believe in you
Motivate yourself and no one can stop you
So smile, you deserve it and much more
Spoil yourself one a while and enjoy
Put that chest out, stand tall and walk
You're excellence, magnificence, elegance
But first love you, trust and be pleased
So love that person in the mirror
And watch a new you bloom!

Pauline

Let me tell you about the most tragic love story that has ever been known.
It's about a man who had a lover and her name was Pauline Jones.
It happened thirty-five years in the past.
But sadly, it was destined not to last.
She was beautiful with her hourglass figure and red hair.
But when she was taken from him, it was sad and unfair.
She had an ex-lover and he was jealous and mean.
He was furious and bitter because he lost Pauline.
Her ex-lover decided to visit her and she rejected him one last time.
He became enraged and he's rotting in prison for his horrible crime.
When she rejected her ex-lover, he decided that she shouldn't live anymore.
When Pauline's new lover came home, he found her lying dead on the floor.
When he saw what had been done,
He decided to end it all with his gun.
He knew that he could not be happy without having Pauline by his side.
He bought an engagement ring and was going to ask her to be his bride.
She treated him like a king and he treated her like she was a queen.
He ended his life because life would've been worthless without Pauline.
Form: Rhyme

To myself, all i can do is hate
Because i was too late
She is leaving forever
So far, far away
My chances are too late,
This horrible fate,
What is she thinking?
Is she thinking the same thing?
Did she ever love me back...i wonder?
I know she likes me, but thats not the same
We are best of friends, but i see no shame
I wish to be closer to her
I'm know thats she knows
But I haven't a clue how she feels
Her eyes the color teal 
Her hourglass figure
Her long blonde hair with black
Oh, yes she is real
But now I she can't come back
My heart swirls as a black hole in my chest
Heaving, and sinking, pained from no rest
Every time i see her pretty face
My heart pounds within
Every hug, feels great
My soul filled with sin
Is torn from agony and anger
But she has laced it back together
I was actually happy 
For this short time i knew her
I feel so crappy
I did not try to woo her
In the end
I regret not asking to be closer
I may never mend
But I will still tell her that I love her....
Form:

She Is Leaving....

To myself, all i can do is hate
Because i was too late
She is leaving forever
So far, far away
My chances are too late,
This horrible fate,
What is she thinking?
Is she thinking the same thing?
Did she ever love me back...i wonder?
I know she likes me, but thats not the same
We are best of friends, but i see no shame
I wish to be closer to her
I'm know thats she knows
But I haven't a clue how she feels
Her eyes the color teal 
Her hourglass figure
Her long blonde hair with black
Oh, yes she is real
But now I she can't come back
My heart swirls as a black hole in my chest
Heaving, and sinking, pained from no rest
Every time i see her pretty face
My heart pounds within
Every hug, feels great
My soul filled with sin
Is torn from agony and anger
But she has laced it back together
I was actually happy 
For this short time i knew her
I feel so crappy
I did not try to woo her
In the end
I regret not asking to be closer
I may never mend
But I will still tell her that I love her....
Form:

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