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1985 i arrived
Just like 80's film
I hit 'em with the boots in July
I don't need snow
I gotta go bigger
I gotta go figure
There's an aching,
There's a hole in my chest
It's amazing
That the crown of a king doesn't change me
It's amazing
But that's when I remember
That we all want,
We all need fashion.
Nigdaw Jul 27
The cow wore this skin better than I,
A little baggy round the udder, maybe
But with a tail to keep off the flies.

I paid three hundred quid for a jacket;

With a smell that really attracts flies,
A little baggy round the shoulders, definitely
The cow wore this skin better than I.
A B Faniki Jul 20
There once was a girl who was sad
she wear what is black so to hide
when summer is here the dress,
it calls heat that drenches
these cloth in summer will have her mad.
Limerick about summet cloth. 7/20/2019
xxx Aug 29
Those are pretty cute bangles, those are pretty hot shoes.
There’s a knot in your hair and a rock up your nose.
You must have stolen it from the drug store, you crack ***** star ******.
Yeah, I’m talking to you.
Don’t think you can prance across my ******* bedroom thoughts in those ******* cowgirl boots, little miss Daddy’s Prada and Mommy’s Lingerie.
I’m never returning your $2 leopard coat, anyway.
But I do appreciate your crack ***** initiative, Señorita Chiquita Banana.
DinoLoncar May 8
You dress in the latest fashion,
looking for some matches,
lighting fire on them,
and lusting fortune's smile,
all lasting for a little while,
in the end,
a cloth of knowledge,
you mistook for the whole wardrobe of wisdom.
Mother God planted the seed of joy in me but I am still at war with what eternity entails,
sugar peaches kissed in sunless shades,
the fruits of heavens melt evermore,
cosmic outburst at the limit of human perception,
come, steal my fashion, besiege my immortality.
Jenny Gordon May 3
So...pretend I don't care about you, you, you:  


They advertise white dresses now, t'avail
Was it the thought of virgins, in a sense?
Cuz lo, "tomorrow's May! What shall you thence
Wear?--" and what of that--was't a fair detail?
I chanced to pick it out, and's perfect, frail
As every soul's half question, for intents.
His parting comment was, "A white dress...?" Whence
Eh?  And I said "Ya," and wherefore (like's bail).
Cuz when I wondered "what to wear?" That fer
Ne cause seemed sheer perfection.  I ne'er knew,
Save that twas light for Spring, and twas in tour.
I'm sick of Janry's darker tones.  I do
Not want aught Winter shades.  What spirit, poor
As that suggestion, whispered 'non white's hue?

...and write about a momentary distraction--as if you did intend to let me go so easily.
from death, alive,
the wedding between the good and evil gives birth to the death’s sublime beauty,
far from the depths of darkness,
in the huge void,
nobody can see, feel or perceive,
the truth and nature of the fragile consciousness,
a death alive will **** the spoiled allure of the world,
a touch of death over my eyes,
the gaze which brings sounds and rhythms after life,
death over beauty in the dark,
from void and blankness I rise,
the virtues of the infinite,
dimensions of time and lustful waters soak the mind,
I am the gate of irresistible hell,
passions and fashions of the dark,
the love from death was a temple of endless births,
inside my prowess, inner joy,
I put a spell over the time ending its life and continuity,
today time is finished and vanished from perception,
ending but never,
prolonged by a luring infinite.
Poem from my book 'The Allure Of Time', now available on amazon.
Jenny Gordon Mar 28
Or?  Go figure.  


What? as night's blackness is passe in frail
Excuse, the hours now merely for good sense
Um, stacking up whiles I close down from hence
This slim machine for lack of aught else' tale,
And this where Twitter promised to avail
Itself of all my minutes--all's fr'intents
Too dead, dull, boring--I've moved on, pretense
Worn to a frazzle in aught that I'd hail.
Remember:  "I should write more--" to bestir
Me, yet ideas have flown off unto
Is't nether regions?  cuz I "watched in tour"
Who cares who?  Fashions.  "Follow her--what you
Should wear is...THIS."  I've MY own style, in poor
'Scuse, am ergo at odds with all, cool too?

Sir Philip Sydney would fume at L4 since the rhyme slides into itself over and over.
them up or
dress them down
they are still them
and they will
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