Long Strapless Poems
Long Strapless Poems. Below are the most popular long Strapless by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Strapless poems by poem length and keyword.
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.
Shades of Grey
Happiness can fade away
I change the way I feel today
These Shades of Grey in yesterday
These Shades of Grey in yesterday
Her echoes "Take this madness"
Soft and silly sick with sadness
Sickened sadness painted Blackness
Tethered strapless
Choked and breathless
-Wicked lies list
Lust for you
Kindness
You shattered me
Lifeless
So "Can't find you", nice, Miss
Gagged and bound
'Not scared to die'- kiss
I dream
My dream missed
Sick with sadness
Paint my Blackness
Silly sad list
Echoes Madness
Staring silent
scary Silence
Whispered to me
"I feel you through me"
Happiness can fade away
I change the way I feel today
These Shades of Grey in yesterday
These Shades of Grey in yesterday.
"I'll paint the sky for you if you move the world for me~"
Evelyn was a gorgeous woman, sweet tempered and fun.
Larry knew that the second he began to date her, three months ago.
She seemed to be everything he wanted except for one small thing.
She was rather plain, not a looker, someone easily forgotten.
Thought this as he entered the French Quarter, for his afternoon snack.
Saw shoes first – they were sexy, sensual, red satin, with flirty ties.
Followed by legs that went up to the top of the Empire State Building.
He felt his cheeks redden. Had she seen him looking her over?
Stunning, with curly auburn hair, and a slender, glorious swan-like neck.
Larry watched. She was deep in thought, guarded by a collie like dog.
The dog stared daggers at him. They were a package apparently.
Maybe the dog was a shepherd; Larry did not understand dogs.
Dress was strapless, a sweetheart neckline; her breasts were perky.
Young, he thought; way too young to be wearing that much make up.
It was the Dad in him; he had a twelve-year-old daughter, Maggie.
The beautiful woman began to stir her beverage; the dog did not move.
A gorgeous pair, this woman wearing pearls at her neck and ears,
And impressively tall, protective, white dog with tan embellishments.
“Larry!” Evelyn sat down and noticed the young beauty right away.
“Look at that gorgeous hand-painted scarf in her lap!”
Larry pretended he did not know whose lap she mean. “Whose lap?”
“Oh, sure, you did not notice her?” She nodded in the dog’s direction.
“She is young enough to be my daughter!” He said indignantly.
Evelyn’s eyes danced, she looked prettier than she had ever looked.
~Cinderella Memories~
Young, self-confident, all debutantes
At the top of the golden,spiral,staircase.
And, oh my, she, was in a Cinderella mood!
The white full length strapless gown,
Satin buttoned gloves to her elbow,
And her partner, in his tuxedo, handsomely dressed,
Made her humble, yet proud and so very blessed!
They descended the spiral stairs to begin the Viennese waltz.
Gowns of debutantes were swishing,shining floors.
Sounding so much like fluttering butterfly wings.
Their satin shoes like rosebuds,so beautifully peeked.
Hair done to perfection, each of us with a crown
Of fragrant carnations, coifed hair. on shoulders,down.
Then, for each debutante, comes that auspicious moment.
When they enter the center of the ballroom floor, with their father!
Fathers dressed in tails to present each proudly, to society...
Their most precious daughters, a second of visual poetry.
Each debutante, so lovely, makes a full bow to the floor
With long stemmed roses, not an easy task at all!
The father in tails, so proud of the daughter. he has raised,
Is indeed granted, the audience's cheers and highest praise!
Let the full orchestra continue, the Viennese music play on.
A Cinderella evening for a father's one and only daughter.
With rows of zirconia on her wrist, she giggles with soft laughter,
Oh…what memorable bliss!
What a most heavenly evening to cherish and remember
Whose memories brightly shine, in the chill of September.
For his daughter, an everlasting memory of his charity.
Monies we raised that night, sent to war torn countries.
My Father you see, did not only think of “we!”
He was committed to the well being of humanity.
Dedicated to my late Father, Edward.
With love and everlasting gratitude.
You gave so much to so many, without question.
A true humanitarian,I follow your directions!
An example to follow!
Panagiota xx
11/14/2024
Bubble gum? Nay, methinks a box of dark chocolates, 'tis best,
A daisy? Nay, methinks a bouquet of velvet red roses, 'tis best,
Pants outfit? Nay, methinks a full-length strapless white silk dress, 'tis best,
Brown coat? Nay, methinks a Chinchilla fur coat, 'tis best,
Taxi? Nay, methinks a chauffeured limousine, 'tis best,
Queens? Nay, methinks an Ace, 'tis best,
Twelve? Nay, methinks a seven, 'tis best,
Craps Table? Nay, methinks a Baccarat Table, 'tis best,
Restaurant? Nay, methinks a Fine Dining Cuisine, 'tis best,
Fish? Nay, methinks a lobster, 'tis best,
White wine? Nay, methinks a Magnum of Champagne, 'tis best,
After dinner mints? Nay, methinks a bit more, 'tis best,
I still have some gum?
{KISS}
05/27/2019
Is this the weekend, by the way?
(I always think it’s Saturday!)
Load the kids up in the car –
country club (I hit the spa:
hand the kids to gay Adolphe –
calisthenics, crazy golf).
I spoil myself – it helps the stress –
the kids are having fun (I guess).
Fox News Tom Cruise
No Jews designer shoes.
Rufe’s so square, a diplodocus:
the kids will always be my focus.
Everybody needs a break
(we’re human too, for goodness’ sake).
We just do the normal things:
cabin in Borrego Springs,
week in Vegas, see the shows,
birthday dinner (Kiriko’s):
never noodles, only sushi
(table used by John Belushi) –
private beach in old La Jolla
(Rufe knows someone, bigshot lawyer):
cocktail bar, upholstered loungers
(razor wire keeps out the scroungers).
Juan’s the poolboy. My help’s Auxi
(Juanito’s neat, and Auxi’s mousey).
Wears my cast-offs, lives on chilli –
keeps her pay from getting silly.
Neither’s legal – which is good:
they stay grateful, like they should.
Minimum wage would tie a noose to it:
anyhow, they’re plenty used to it.
She breastfeeds, Juanito hustles
(fine-boned body, high-toned muscles).
He’s moonlighting, pumping gas
in San Diego, humping ass.
Rufe’s no idea what good taste is.
Parties with them friends of his.
I can’t stand them business folks –
Steaks and beers and dirty jokes.
I won’t go to meets or meals
if I can’t wear my strapless heels
and backless dress (Yves St Lauren)
it’s not about impressing men
(who cares what they think?) – it’s the wives
it matters what a woman drives
who fixed her hair. What’s Satan’s curse?
To show up toting last month’s purse.
1. Dimple under left eye, apply air brush.
2. Extend her legs, more voluptuous. Add 4 inches from ankle to knee cap.
3. You know...I'm just not feeling the dress. Do we have one of her in that green strapless?
Men like strapless right?
4. Holy hell! Can we do something about those teeth? Yuck!
5. She needs a glow around her head. Yeah like that, like an angel. Fantastic!
6. Rosy hue around cheek bones needs touch up. She needs to blush harder, like she's
embarrassed about something...something shameful.
7. Final edit, her smile is too big, women that happy don't read magazines...what? Don't look
at me like that!
Et Voila! Our hyper-stylized over-edited fictitious standard of beauty is realized.
Ok society!
Get ready...
Set...
Conform!
(Conformity ensues)
Bonus points! We got a celebrity to do the cover shoot.
(Hey, you can only sell your soul once and chances are she already did it...Christ, stop
looking at me like that!!!)
When she takes home her free promotional copy,
She can hold up our ideal of her side by side with the mirror and think:
"Wow...these images are so different and yet...I sense a strange and *vogue familiarity...
Almost as though...just maybe...they were of the same person...
Huh...I wonder which one represents me?"
*Typo alert! Should be 'vague'...silly me
Disco Music
Strobe light looks like moon-sun.
Halo lights of red, blue, yellow, green.
He wears classic Saturday Night Fever white.
She has a white flower in her hair,
head and hips swivel;
one-strapped red dress.
He points with hands over head.
Ballroom floor bittersweet-blue.
Celebration of disco music.
I was dressed in strapless purple.
Burned my bra.
This stamp doesn’t nearly catch
the falderal - not the nasal and falsetto
of the Bee Gees, nor the confident swagger
of Tony Manero. I will survive, my motto.
The couple on this stamp look too happy,
too peppy, maybe preppy, almost ‘50’s.
I remember the crowds, the loudness,
the vulnerability, the period; that Mom
had me ask Dad for money to go.
They let me. Strobe light shadows
of chiaroscuro amidst flashy night.
The stamp is too clean cut.
Nature ages like Youth,
a bougainvillea wrapped
around a strapless watch.
Youth doesn’t look at the clock
but ignores passing hours unknowing,
innocent of the melting water.
It leaps and lunges without fear of a fading silhouette,
it smiles with missing teeth,
gaps filled with dreams that will change.
Youth giggles at the simplest of movements,
it blanches under praise -
it drifts along shores, feeling hearing holding then
abandoning the flotsam and jetsam of aging. It is a bundle of
yesterday’s plans
ostracised by calendars,
unaware that friends will leave, as
trenches are dug by
hands, wrinkled.
Youth is a promise milked into creams,
it is a sweating desire to return, rediscover the
suppleness of joints, of bones, of possibility.
Youth has not yet become a mouth that sighs,
is bougainvillea still free from being entwined, twisted and tied.
It is not yet conscious of time as an intangible abstract
forever
Sitting under a generous eucalyptus tree
It's vibrant feet buried under dark gray moist
Ground. Its pendulum branches bending toward the
bubbly melodious canal; allowing the thin silvery
finger-like leaves to caress the meandering
Blue-green water.
In its canopy, groups of cicadas and crickets croon
Their music like chants from falsetto Himalayan
Monks. A scaly lizard with cowboy legs and
Protruding eyes stares annoyingly.
I inhale the scent of the morning's breath and
Observe a large blue dragonfly eating mosquitoes
For its breakfast. Looking at the bank of the
Canal. I see a yellow and black wasp, its line-like
Middle bobbing up and down as if dancing to
Nature's rhythm.
Above, the egg yolk colored weeds, a group of
gnats are showing off their acrobatic flying skills
By gliding in perfect formation. In the distance,
Clouds of dust like morning mist trail a tractor while
A group of field workers, hoes on their shoulders,
March like soldiers to a military band.
Looking up, I see the sky taking off its fluffy
Snow-white strapless dress revealing its blue
Magnificent body to those fortunate enough to
Notice. Standing in reverence, my eyes bathing
In salty liquid I no longer want to fish.