Short Fishnet Poems
Short Fishnet Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Fishnet by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Fishnet by length and keyword.
if legs or long
theyer turn on
love to look
make my mind cooke
watch them locking
and walk and talking
in those
FISHNET STOCKING
Now this is rather shocking
But I saw a fish in fishnet stockings
In the south of France
It did a dance
But its knees kept on a-knocking.
Out of my mind, back in a few minutes
Adjusting my parameters, can't find 'em in a thicket
Happens now and then
Probably out feeding the hens
My name is Gertrude and my stockings are fishnet
Fishnet curves delight
Delectable swells
Oh so Beautiful
Ahh
Fishnet
stalking
so many fish
just jump right in
then find themselves
out of their element
trapped
and suffocating
Oh
to grow a pair
I know it's hard to walk away
when you haven't any legs
evolution can be so slow
As the party dies down
and the beer has been drunk
we sit together on the couch and talk.
Her lips move
but her eyes speak.
I lose myself in their conversation.
Her fishnet covered leg finds me.
She doesn't move it and I'm glad.
"Why is the beer gone?"
When I was young
I could cut three holes
to wear a black garbage bag
as a mini-skirt over
torn fishnet pantyhose,
with fishhooks in my ears,
and I was totally-totally fashionable.
I do it now
and invariably someone asks
if I'm okay
and do I need help.
Where stockings of fishnet hung by the tree,
Old Santa grew giddy, blushing with glee,
For the madam explained
"If your drive's not too waned,
The one-you-pick's owner won't charge the fee."
November 17, 2022
A Fun Holiday Limerick Poetry Contest,
Tania Kitchin, sponsor
my black kitty near
the tackle box and fishnet
quick curious paws
storm and computer
screen aglow with my poetry
saved from power surge
clock on the wall ticks
my flytrap needs some watering
abandoned cobweb
picture of children
calendar needs to be changed
my womb is empty
sex and hairspray,
its what her image screams.
her lips smeared with 99 cent gloss.
vodka and whisky lingering on hot breath.
fishnet stockings,
a hole in one knee.
eyeliner smudged by the humid air.
trojans packed away in her leather purse.
"well," she purs in a drunken slur.
"what do you think?"
Morbid angel
With that crooked gothic grin
Smearing licorice lipstick
On the licentious lips of sin
Morbid angel
Whimpering salacious sighs
Snagging the souls of men
In your fishnet thighs
Morbid angel
In sable studded noir
Matching spiked collars
With your high heel scars
Morbid angel
Black lace over ashen skin
You’re late for school again
Much to your parent’s chagrin
Raised up gooseflesh dipped in metal,
a shiver runs right down my spine;
Every emotion they enshrine,
somehow the scream helps me settle;
Please hit that double bass pedal,
I’ll throw you a devil horn sign;
Raised up gooseflesh;
They view me as the jezebel,
a black fishnet flavored outline;
With a head bang everything’s fine,
healing factor with no equal;
Raised up gooseflesh.
Don't worry, cookie.
I won't eat you.
Unless you ask, but
I doubt you will.
With Sanguine intentions,
We toss and tumble,
Laughing with grass
Stained khaki's.
This is bliss.
Across the
Rolling hills of
Our private desires.
Your key barely
Fits anymore, but
That's okay because
I can't be your
Door anymore.
Remember? I stand
On the
Corner.
With fishnet
Stocking, a cigarette
And a mini-skirt.
You dare to
Cross me so
I've become what
You've wanted.
Now burn,
Lover.