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.
( Nb- I can assure the reader that this is in no way autobiographical- absolutely impossible)
Excuse me, madam, you're too fat
and Lady, you're too thin.
Your hair's not blonde cascading curls
you've dull and spotty skin.
An hourglass figure is out of reach
for somebody like you
you look like you are pregnant and
your butt needs toning, too.
Foundation and some blusher could
improve you, for a start
then work on your eyeliner, though
you'll find that's quite an art.
Try these techniques, be careful though,
you won't know when to stop
then one day you will look like me-
product of Photoshop.
He ruled his kingdom with an iron fist
all looked up to the earl of otherworld.
Women sighed over his handsome face,
his manly stature and his sense of humour.
His heir and son was cultivated and charming.
Yet the earl's wife was a fiery woman of red hair
with an hourglass figure she tempted and teased.
He was putty in her hands when she flirted.
His warriors would follow him to certain death
such was their trust in his leadership and skills.
His earldom was both strong and rich in arts,
jewels with bounteous harvests of fruit and grains.
His once many enemies were now scattered and few.
He gazed out over his kingdom and knew with certainty
that all was ready for the day he was no more
that his son would carry on capably in his footsteps.
He knew he would be remembered with relevance
that many would mourn his Rite of Passage
after all he was the patrician all he beheld
and he ruled all with wisdom and strength.
written 07/17/2015
contest Patriarchy
Crown of gold curls in rainbow wrappers.
Girly-girl, at two, favored to be beautiful.
Eyelids delight to be painted baby-girl green.
Dolly’s lascivious lashes soaked in black ink.
Innocent strawberries dot baby-blue sleeveless top.
Soon, she’ll be strapless, primping at the vanity.
For now, she holds a mirror with her eyes closed;
her reflection not quite perfected; a natural blush
of lips, cherub-cheeks and baby-fat skin. Shedding
the green, pink, yellow rollers with angel hair bouncing
off her shoulders, and rolling out the hourglass figure
with a perfect pout and hips that shout ‘look at me.’
Indeed, at two years old, she looks in the mirror,
smiles, as her mother approves, and daddy sits
in his easy chair, not knowing to be bothered by
the impending storm of unsuitable guys at the door.
The sky is marvellous tonight, it’s fraught
with possibilities of windswept cliffs.
It’s dark out here in space, but just a thought -
heavenly bodies found in hieroglyphs.
And yet, the stars are far and few between,
as feared. Navigating ebon, it’s clear
that forms and beams of light are unforeseen.
For who out here can find the Bard, Shakespeare?
Look! See! What a beauty! Hourglass figure,
that beaming bod. She’s dressed in blue and bright.
The hottest star, you could not prefigure.
At verge of light, can you see she’s just right?
Don’t forsake space. The faithful find the light.
A soulmate far away. She’s out of sight.
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. :)
Off the ladder without a life jacket.
“Her ascent, was imminent,” said the sea,
“I wasn’t up for all that drowning racket.”
Dives in with her orange vest - carefree,
holding handles, she’s propelled through the deep,
where many ghosts do not talk in their sleep,
and tears of loved ones join many who weep.
The mermaid with a lucid tail; loose lips,
her hourglass figure and tongue making flips;
she’s flippant about the she-human hips.
“What no swishy-tail?! Look at that jacket…”
“She’s not a talent, like you…let her be…
Look at those two legs…think of the upkeep.”
In due time, she-human ascends, then slips.
2/14/2023
Fragmented Rhyme
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Used Howmanysyllables & Rhymezone
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
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
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.
I felt her before I saw her
She had the flashiest most beautiful red-blue hair
A blue blood, naturally
Her lips were painted a luscious cherry red
Redder than the advertisement girls of the fifties
Was I dreaming? I looked at my assistant.
We sent the other models home.
We knew we had found our it girl
She was wearing a lacy top that accentuated her bosom.
And what a bosom it was.
Her hair dropped over one eye, but we could see her look.
She smoldered.
She was standing next to an oak tree that felt her too.
The leaves on the tree immediately transmogrified from brown to red.
She was magnificent, and we were grateful to find her.
Her hourglass figure I will never forget, and neither will my assistant.
We speak of the mysterious woman often.
She vanished right after we took the photos.
Only one turned out, but it was enough.