#stylish
My mother wears her metallic and luminous grey hair long —
She dons a complementary brushed-chrome suit with a gunmetal woollen jumper to shield her from the biting weather.
Her glasses - rimless, blue-tinted and square are a statement that sings: “I may be nearly 70, but don’t underestimate me!”
She is a walking, striking song —
People stop and stare as we walk by here and there,
In the busy Melbourne streets, she sashays sleek and sweet.
Some serenade her with compliments, some take pictures, many engage, asking for her take on fashion.
I love that she is now in her limelight, the spotlight - gong!
And I get to witness this exquisite woman’s moment,
That may have been lost if we’d just walked head-strong, me scurrying behind her titanium metre hair, long —
4d ago
May 30, 2026 at 7:49 PM UTC
I envy the stylish model
her styrofoam perfect *******
those legs that never need shaving
the sweet smile that needs no rest
the hair that’s always behaving
the pose that teasingly arrests
she’s a icon of current fashion
a flower neatly pressed
but no love will ever find her
no one cares if she’s undressed
she’ll never accomplish anything
never mind - I’m not impressed
Dec 3, 2021
Dec 3, 2021 at 6:17 AM UTC
You claim I came from beneath the surface to your undoing. Yet you were the conservative one who told me to cease what we were doing. So assertively, who do you think you're fooling? You're like a needle weaving around in interstitial fluid. But my veins have been filled with tryptophan. You might playfully say they very well may have been ruined.
You said to slow down and look around and check the pace of the beat because stepping stones are unknown
when made with cold feet. And in turn I took a step back to retreat so that I wouldn't confuse nor subdue the impudent snooze to my heartbeat.
And darlin', not to be too explicit but I stepped to the side to abide when you began acting so tactfully complicit. Eliciting emotions as readily as waves of the ocean emitting their violent rhythms. But the notions tender returned to sender have now gone and split schisms exploding causing utter commotion like somehow I slipped or stuttered while muttering my notions to churn you like butter lotion.
And while this isn't to spurn you, you're requesting my devotion when you barely know my name. So in the mirror what's crystal clear is the thin and whimsical veneer of reciprocity.
I was adamant to prevent my vile extravagant fragments from implementing collateral damage dispensed towards anyone while I can be so relentless. It was never my intention to hang you up on a wall or leave you otherwise stranded landing nowhere near where I'm standing at all. Rather than bawl or try to break the Berlin Wall, may I suggest we take a rest before the hammer falls?
So that when I don't answer a call you don't wallow growing suspicious of my convictions convinced they aren't there or I've listed restrictions. The difference is that you decide not to believe it. Wow. So I'm not surprised your alibi won't allow you to see it now.
I can't perceive it for you though I'm not deceiving you
if you could possibly conceive it to be true then maybe next time around you could receive it too. I'll leave that to you
for I can only say my piece. We can maybe slow down
before the throw down or we'll cyst and decease.
Don't look at me like that last line was mischeviously written or you didn't see it correctly. I'm not an obsequious sycophant but I mean quite simply that we'll become diseased and die if we stick to projecting. Rather than rant planting seeds bitterly reflecting let's make a promise to be honest and say it directly.
That's all I ask of you KC.
Respectfully,
Chris P.
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 3:48 PM UTC
Oh, to be certain, she* was dead serious.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCLXXVII)
Quoth she, "...THIS fashion plate." to, smiling, scale
Me lo, from pink headband to tall boots' dense
Black, like the comment she was stylish thence
Was--what? to MY attire?! and whither? pale
As friends and kindness, poor attempts t'avail
Myself of being half stylish, all's pretense?
So guys stop talking when I pass, a sense
Of turning heads mine for too long sans bail.
I'm "never good enough." Or what is't, fer
All that? What am I chasing? Wherefore do
NonChristians seem...is't kinder? Why in poor
'Scuse did the church um, ladies, tell me two
Times that: "your outfits are [for aught as twere]
E'er intresting."?! Laugh. Tell me what is true?
13Apr19c
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 4:14 PM UTC
should they take objection
to the stylish comb others
show
they'll vacate the others
spot in the
row
many a time this course
of action has been
depicted
where others were so
suddenly
evicted
they weren't happy
no not at
all
on seeing the others
who'd so
enthral
every bit of veneration
had to be kept on
them
even though the others were
far more exceptional of
stem
they thought that they
ruled at the
joint
so the others were abruptly
given their terse
point
we are aware of how
they
operate
which is to promptly
clear the others
plate
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 7:09 PM UTC
...as Mum taught me.
(sonnet #MMMMMMCMIX)
Did sparrows gaily call as wont, t'avail
Espresso with Dad's lecture of a sense
Long since forgotten, just where blue skies fence
Is't Sunday morning's placid airs as frail
White clouds lent April's winking eye a pale
Note of grey yonder, what? for aught intents?
How Janry owns the jest was poor as hence
These naked wastes look dead, likeas to scale.
O yes, they market florals ere March tour,
Cuz stylish girls must be the first to do
Um, April Fools a proper notice. We're
All shivring in wool rollnecks now, but you
Just want mair golden hours to cull what'd stir
That keener sense Spring shall anon debut.
28Jan18a
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
Well, and that doesn't even account for having been buried with Mum's remains.
(sonnet #MMMMMMDCCCLXVI)
Rain...lo, the ditches were quite full cuz thence
All could but hardly drive, and in betrayl
Slid off the roads since ice was that detail
Upon all lanes, police too, for intents
Cast in such straits, ah we discussed it hence
To put my visions of that party's bail
Thus on its ear like plans are fragile, they'll
Assure me, "you might hafta find defense."
Therefore I pray, as she sends out in tour
Reminders "It's tomorrow!--" (yes, I knew)
And "...don't forget!" like Janry is not poor
For such things here in Lincoln's Land. We do
So much, yet for what cause? To sweetly stir
Souls is't? Friends: I'd forgotten joys' thin crew.
07Jan18b
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC