Long Miniskirt Poems
Long Miniskirt Poems. Below are the most popular long Miniskirt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Miniskirt poems by poem length and keyword.
My closet, since you ask, is a cramped space,
Chosen and cherished fashionable base,
Essential part of my enchanted place,
With charm and chic to complement my face.
Shows off all hues of my life if I may -
From baby pink to darkest shades of grey,
Reflecting the intended role I play,
Engaging gaily in Societe.
Levi’s slim fit - my favourite by far,
Red miniskirt to storm a local bar,
Sleek diva dress as karaoke star,
Extra large sweatpants, running chores by car.
Stylish business suit for formal dinner,
A little black dress, my boss’ head spinner,
Bikini thongs as hot summer sinner,
Levi’s slim fit still my all time winner!
My closet caters to the latest trend,
Adjusting to occasions I attend.
I love all walks of vogue but in the end,
Levi’s slim fit - my easygoing friend!
Wide range of footwear I wouldn’t omit,
But shoe department in one poem won’t fit.
(The arsenal of bags, a dazzling hit,
So is the lingerie, I must admit).
But if a pair of shoes I ought to pick,
Without moment’s hesitation real quick -
I would grab cowgirl boots, sexy and slick,
Vibing with my Levi’s through thin and thick!
I see her walking in front of my shop.
Wears a Miniskirt,
Worried face,
Skin and bones.
Asking for change.
I usually, ignore panhandlers.
That day, while looking for change.
I asked:
What’s your name?
Diana Murphy
Diana Mary?
How you know my middle Name?
Mary? it is a beautiful Name.
Only a few people call me by that name.
Her eyes full of water.
We had a small profound conversation.
then, I tell her that she is not alone.
She thanks me.
As she is leaving
I heard her saying:
“I’m not alone, I’m not alone...”
After, a few weeks.
I see her pass by the shop.
Hi, Diana Mary Murphy!
She looks at me in amazement and said:
How can you remember my name?
Do you know how many people I see daily?
Nobody cares about my name!
"Those are the little things"
I love you!
I love too, I reply.
then she goes away.
The story may continue…
"Those are the little things"
Form:
You realize your wild side is no longer napping
Fully aware you are trying to sneak away
Leaving her in a suitcase or closet
With the fancy miniskirt she loves to wear.
You realize your wild side is listening when
She flings your thigh-high-look-at-me-boots
Onto the bed and sneers at you,
And you cannot stop looking at your make up case.
You realize you are out of your depth when you look
In the mirror and you are wearing your "come hither"
smile and your Wild Side is laughing maniacally
As you prance out the door, ready to party
In all the ways you said you would never party again
After the Wild Side did the same thing to you last night
And the three nights before that. She has you, and you
Have never felt more sexy.
Continued from Part 2
Some kid is spraying Clearasil,
He wants to make his pimples nil;
He paints his breath with chlorophyll;
I’m in the dream of someone ill
I’m fleeing but I feel a goose,
Behind me grins a guy named Bruce,
His velvet miniskirt is puce
Why can’t I even call a truce?
There’s Billy Graham on a binge
His holy words do make me cringe;
If nonsense were a door with fringe
Then Billy Graham would be the hinge
I hear some Wallace words unkind
How has our race so soon declined?
His thoughts should be in sheit enshrined;
Thank god my eyes are color blind
The Beverly Hillbillys pace the street
The crowds are lying at their feet
While Petticoat Junction joins the fleet
And Green Acres makes it complete
I guess I know that something’s wrong
I haven’t yet met old King Kong,
They say ‘he went back to Hong Kong
For that is where he do belong’
Now I’m pausing in the gloom
And watch the reruns they exhume
They still do stink, I smell the fume;
To run away I must resume
Here comes Mitch, he’s singing songs
While Lawrence Welk, he beats the gongs;
I need to buy some racing thongs,
Instead they sell me three Ding Dongs
Behind me now there grows a tree
While Howdy Doody bends his knee;
I haven’t lost my sanity,
I’m merely tuned to Channel Three
End
She walks by me
in miniskirt and boots
with earphones she listens
to a song I cannot hear
I see him walking
a beard so black and full
looking at his cell phone
at something I cannot see
together they are hurrying
quickly hand in hand
looking eagerly before them
and I know not where they go
I hear somebody calling
a name out loud and clear
a song begins within my head
but I know not who she is
and I stop and wonder
that I do not know
just who they may be
all the people that I see
each one of them a person
each one with hopes and dreams
each one with a story that
I simply do not know
and I know I do not see them
and do not know who they are
and that I never wonder
and I never try to learn
I really do not see them
I really do not see
I really do not wonder
I really do not care
they really are invisible
someone I really do not see
I really do not try to see them
and learn who they really are
She walked into the restaurant and youngsters’ eyes did a stare.
Had probably never seen white go-go-boots or teased up hair.
Short length of her miniskirt is not shocking like it was back in the day.
Circular symmetrical patterns of her pinks and blacks are sixties gay.
She was showing off her outfit when she headed straight my way.
“What do you think?” do I look like you grandma? She stopped to say.
I think you are prettier, I told her. But you look really terrific, for sure.
Her outfit and boots-are-made-for-walking made several patrons purr.
She is dressed like an old grandma! A youngster said, clearly upset.
Her date’s googly eyes showed us that he was not this creature’s pet.
When a gorgeous girl walks into a restaurant, it does not matter.
If she is dressed in an old-fashioned way, or chocolate syrup splatter.
The confidence on my granddaughter made me excited and proud.
She is absolutely ready to take on the world, but in no way loud.
I showed her off around the room and watched the old guys bluff.
They sucked in their guts too, pretending they were also hot stuff.
Standing there with your glistening hair,
miniskirt tempting all eyes around,
say you’re just going out the unwind
with you friends, hottest club in the town.
Looks can kill and I’m thinking that you
mean to draw every wandering eye,
as if you do not have a man here,
as if you’re on the hunt for a guy.
Don’t play funky with me, girl,
don’t play funky with me,
I got standards too, girl,
that how it’s gotta be.
Don’t play funky with me, girl,
don’t play funky with me,
I know what’s in a ‘girl’s night,’
tou ain’t cheatin’ on me.
Waking on down the street at your side,
we pass a man and you look away,
looks awkward and I come to realize
that both of you have something to say.
You don’t talk much of what went before,
it gets hard to learn much about you,
wearing a mask don’t make it better,
I’d rather built things up on the truth.
Don’t play funky with me, girl,
don’t play funky with me,
I got standards too, girl,
that how it’s gotta be.
Don’t play funky with me, girl,
don’t play funky with me,
everyone has got a past, girl,
so stop lyin’ to me.
You’ve always said you’re liberated,
and gonna go take charge of you life,
land a blow, make sure all the world knows,
never ‘sink’ to being a housewife.
When we pass kids you think I don’t see
the warm glow that comes into your eyes,
yet you insist you’re not into it
when you so want to give it a try.
Don’t play funky with me, girl,
don’t play funky with me,
I got standards too, girl,
that how it’s gotta be.
Don’t play funky with me, girl,
don’t play funky with me,
I know that you want children,
why not have them with me?
Don’t play funky with me, girl,
don’t play funky with me,
I got standards too, girl,
that how it’s gotta be.
Don’t play funky with me, girl,
don’t play funky with me,
we could make a good thing, girl,
if there’s some honesty.
To the lust of wine, he has been judiciously celibate
exactly the mark of four decades is a reason to go gaga
taking the road of this pleasure, even if it is once in a lifetime
he sees five percent on a bottle so attractive but it’s actually twenty five
walloping in the mood he asks for number two but it’s already four
on his way to heaven he thinks but under the street light he walks
on his doorstep he sees an energetic Miss Minaj
not at all knowing it is tired, sweaty grandma
takes the nearby perfume for an unusual spray
loh and behold it is an insecticide
searches with the slider, for frequency on the stereo
Lord, it’s the gas turner he operates
sounds of no signal he converts from the aggressive fleeing gas
impossibility embraces his mind
from the observation of his non-living room
is that the cat on a miniskirt? Or his wife oiled around her body with ketchup?
he speaks of tasting a dog’s breast milk
and inscribing a permanent tattoo on his tongue
right in his front, Rihanna twerks
he grabs with all pleasure but with arms around the TV
on his way back to the kitchen with a cigarette
party screams he hears but are disturbing panics
just half a minute ago, smelly diffusion hints on a fishy joke
lights the match stick in a room full of gas
or consciousness to come back with nothing to remember
lies in the midst of standing angels
as the nurses care with so much anxiety and pity
wrapped all round by white sheets of healing
he blames others for not undoing his carelessness.
Susie teetered into Bill’s office, wearing a skintight miniskirt
Sat on Bill’s knee for dictation. She was an outrageous flirt
Soon Bill was smitten and couldn’t resist her ample charms
He forgot about his wife and kids and fell into Susie's arms
That was the lusty beginning of their clandestine love affair
Young Susie is a man-eater and calls Bill her "Honey Bear"
Bill’s wife discovered his deception and asked for a divorce
She’ll keep it out of the media for a huge settlement, of course!
As soon as his divorce was finalised he made Susie his wife
Susie’s only twenty. Bill wanted a carer for the rest of his life
Bill’s eighty-five years old and Susie stroked his thinning hair
and denies her attraction to him is that Bill’s a multi millionaire!
They say age doesn’t matter, especially when you are ‘in love’
That depends if you’re the ‘secretary’ who's married to ‘the ‘guv’!
Within a year Bill was dead and Susie worked for another VIP
I've heard she takes dictation while sitting naughtily upon his knee
Age doesn’t matter when you’re in love Contest
Sponsored by Julie leigh Rodeheaver
12-16-17
If I had a sad broken heart
Not because you died dear
But that you chose another bride
Who's so limited I fear
She posseses only twenty
Percent and I eighty
Chosen in my youth gifted blessed
God prepared me for thee
Now that I'm aged unable to work
Not able to serve you
You seek a twenty percent girl
Unintelligent shrew
Wish you well in your endeavor
You're getting just desserts
Twenty percent's offerings small
So small just miniskirt
This one is based on 80/20 principle
This is not an original idea
I heard it in a sermon by T.D.Jakes
When a person marries, gets a new job,
or a new home, etc.., everything is great.
Then the new wears off and fault finding
begins..Nothing is a hundred percent
usually about twenty percent imperfections..
Thanks for the challenge:
HGarvey Daniel Esquire
Contest entry....