Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"ballgowns" poems
Ladies, in thier ballgowns wade, thier masks they have made, so they wade across the ballroom floor, for the sign on the, Big. Brass. Door, a masquerade, it reads, A Masquerade. The men, ready in blazers and tuxes, wearing thier masks, awaiting thier midnight mistress, thier...sexy seductress. Then, the man in black and white, guides his mistress inder the moonlight, for a dance, perhaps a kiss, at the stroke of midnight. At midnight, the clock sounds, and all you see is the spinning of gown after gown. Ding. **** Ding. **** the sound becomes a beat, ready and awaiting the eager dancers feet. Ding. **** Ding. **** the couples dance, but not for long, for this... this is the, Last. Song. Ding. **** Ding. **** At the end of this song, the men and women, reveal themselves, and at long last, they shed thier masks. Then the man in black and white, grasps his ladies hand, and holds it tight, then he gets down, on his knee, and her gasp... brings an end to this story.
0
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 12:53 AM UTC
Masquerade
Walking down the avenues And my stomach is turning Im stuck in my head My heart is pounding harder 9 little cracks, a dusted off corner Left alone They call me a brain vagabond I dont know where to go Wonderland, is what i call home Im not insane Im not insane Im not insane I jumped over a wall Im not insane Glasses crack, piano starts Bass drops Im okay Im okay Im okay Lips are cracked Eyes are glistening Dry throat I see home ballgowns, insanity Heart-shaped hats, non-existent cats Im run into a strange mans arms Im alright Im not insane Im okay. - m.r. | wonderland
0
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
wonderland
Lies are lullabies Sweet songs that we sing To ourselves and to others Trying to convince ourselves That something isn't our fault That our world is more utopian than Reality allows for We tell ourselves that It's better to live a lie Than face the harsh world Without our emerald glasses *Or maybe everything we believe In is a lie* The faerie tales have even been Changed to suit our own needs Pretty ballgowns and sparkling glass shoes Forget the truths of rags, dirt, blood and filth The romance still remains But the glamorous side is tougher More truthful, less plastic The grime and dirt gives the story life These Disney-fied, prettied up stories Are just machine made, molded Plastic. Commercialised. Dead. And they spell faerie wrong too
0
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
plastic lies
We drove fast, the way only the young can do. Recklessly and carefree while wildly tripping across that broken highway. I heard the echo of our hollow laughter, felt the vibration all through my open mind. My mouth remained dry no matter how much Orange juice I drank. Along the edge of the world the untamed field of sage bush and honey suckle swayed like dancing girls in unison to the warm California wind. We sat and watched in silence as the Palm fronds danced in ballgowns through the grand wood pane windows of a mansion across the canyon. I seen hand trails that never ended, 12 packs boxes that hopped away like jack rabbits. A Coyote on Paseo whose only want was to live. White owls crashing through ancient Oaks just to let us know we weren't all there was. I've captured the image in memory of a dozen smiling faces of my still free minded friends of my youth. All seeing things the way they were meant to be seen. All seeing things the way we'd never see them again.
0
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
Dosed In The Days Of My Youth
It was a huge closet Fancy clothes Ballgowns and heels Dresses and flats Ornamented with flowery designs With thin fine lines Diamonds and gems and pearls Matches the girl with curls A pair of blue jeans Denim jacket Converse and white shirt Hidden inside the huge closet Black unsophisticated clothes Beanies, caps and shades Coats and ties and bows She cannot wear on times she want This is for she: pink ladylike For him is blue and manly Straight long hair Or a fine undercut You cannot lover you don't You cannot love him, he won't If this is so wrong Why can't this stop all along? If you watch **** you sweat You hide what is wrong But when did love become unacceptable? When the standards are so strong That loving someone Is now just a set of rules It's funny how we can call this world a home When only the chosen one inside the closet Who can endure much Can easily blend in And the homeless out Freezes with cold stares and shrugs Disgust and homophobic thoughts Unless we give them a chance No, this is all wrong How could we tolerate someone who ran away from home? But how can you call them runaways When from the start The truth is naked That in this place For them there is no space It is a huge closet Where you're safe inside Where you have clothes you SHOULD wear Remember you are a her But why the heck is your heart also for her?
0
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 1:14 AM UTC
Walk-In Closet
tonight, as you danced on a platform of heroes, surrounded by a blur of faces you have never seen, i was ****** back in time. as dresses swirled, visions of a distant time assaulted me. i could envision you and i swirling the way the actors did - the way you did - in a ballroom with souls fitted into ballgowns and formal suits. i could almost hear you laughter burst above the orchestra, and the buzz of excitement zipping through the air. i felt your hand against mine; one gripped my waist, scorching my skin and marking it with uncharted masses of land. as you lead; i follow you twirl us around, until we float far above the crowd, the clouds, straight into the stars when suddenly - a flash! a spark! - and i am back. alone in my seat, and stuck in a different world. no longer twirling, towards the land of the Gods, but spiraling back to unwelcome reality.
0
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
dreaming of the past
Tears of Rosaline The night of ballgowns and flashy lights Marbles staircase and sumptuous jewelries You left me here without a clue, When your eyes had seen her beauty You forgot the sweet words you said to me, When you are already making promises with her I was your first but then you choose your second and happens to be your last You seem to be happy with her But don't you know that I was already dying in grief? You enjoyed your storhy, neither her All of the who people happy with your so called great love But, do they notice me also? I, who was the unknown part of your story I, who was the unknown character of your love story And I, who was your invincible chapter?
0
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 2:14 AM UTC
Tears of Rosaline
I long to write Beautiful things Like Shakespeare And elegant ballgowns Something with more meaning Then simply feeling down I long to write Of romeo and Juliet Symbolic and deeper then most see Oh thou arent very good with writing I long to write Like egar allen poe Or any inspiration i claim to love But instead i write of the dead things That roam through my mind stirring Pound pound pounding My mind is constantly aching She's but a young child Cry cry crying For attention she seeks but it keeps dying Plays and music will not be wrote Of the things i write For they are not artistic They are but a jumbled mess Never knowing where to place Each Line or Stanza Now I'm rambling On and on and on She goes sad and chaotic Whispering obscenities And screaming repetitive words and pleas I adore the poems and songs That at face value seem Like they are about love for another When truly they ring about darkness Oh sweet child Your love keeps thy so warm But it's breaking into a storm I watch you try to sleep Why do you weep? Dost thou not realize thy beauty? Stab thy heart into shreds For i cannot breath without the But i cannot smile when thy fills my blood with led Sweet little girl You have made no sense Get on your knees and repent For you will never be Somebody
0
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
Somebody
Once upon the perfect evening Glass shoes glided along vast ballroom floors Coaches bumped down candlelit paths And maidens drifted atop mountainous gowns Once upon the perfect evening Shoes shattered Carriages crumpled And ballgowns trailed blood
0
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
Perfection
Beauty queens in ballgowns looks like they'd be hot ***** but debutantes in swimsuits get to be the bathing beauties
0
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
under the gown