"prada" poems
I hate when I’m trying to be handsome,
and a more handsome man stands next to me and handsomes harder than I can.
''Surely you can handsome somewhere else,'' I say in a handsome passion, to the man dressed in ridiculously good fashion.
But he just stands there, handsoming harder than I could dare.
Even if I were wearing some Prada underwear.
So I turn up my nose and ''hmmph'' out aloud,
then handsome off to a less handsomeable crowd.
''Oh, what a success I've found,'' I say in a handsome murmer,
before handsoming away to be handsome further.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
I'm not sure how to wear self confidence
but I do know how many calories are in every food I consume
And my heart may be bottomless
but my make up seems to claim my entire room
And my mirror may be shattered with disgust and desperation
but at least my closets are full of Gucci, Prada, and Dior
And maybe I can be happy with lonely isolation
Gives me more time for the materials I adore
And you might as well chain me to my shopping bag
That are filled with platinum, silver, and gold
Cause I will make up for the soul I lack
With the plastics, metals, and materials cold
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
cheap liquor to ya head ya drain the substance from the bottle
With them Vicky secrets on ya body’s lookin like model
With your mind going numb its gettin so easy to swallow
all them medals on the wall were gold plated and hollow
Daddy lil princess raised inside an ivory tower
Prince charming showed up and he amazed you with his power
You gave him all your treasures he was gone within the hour
Now the sweet lies that he told got your mouth tasting sour
You singing Mirrior mirror on the wall
Who's the most tainted of them all
Your lipsticks smeared and mascara's faded
Any price to feel love baby girl you know you paid it
I met you one night and I tried to ease ya pain
But you won't touch my black skin in fear it leaves a stain
On that pretty Prada dress thats hanging off ya frame
Crown of amethyst polluting your brain
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 8:15 PM UTC
the devil wears puppy-print pajamas and waits outside his vacant house for you to come,
the devil calls you only by the first syllable of your name and tells you your hair is the most attractive thing about you,
the devil gives you water in a coffee cup the first time you sit on his bed and accidentally spills it on you when he tries to kiss you,
the devil has eyes like the murky lagoons he told you he would visit with you,
and a scar the shape of a crescent moon on his forehead.
the devil leans up against the wall and asks, "why are you doing this to me? you're making me feel so guilty."
the devil doesn't pay his phone bill and ignores you when you say you need to talk,
the devil calls once, twice, a few times, once at 12:45 when you swore he wouldn't call, and never again,
the devil moves houses and forgets to warn you that he lost his heart in the process,
the devil doesn't care that they drained the lake near his house,
the devil doesn't notice that they took his ******* heart with it when they did.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 2:49 AM UTC
Asking silly questions
About places I no longer live
And people that
Maybe should have stayed friends
Who really burned bridge
Both of us
No innocence here
Who really threw first stone
More questions that don't matter
Naked answers drained of endorphins
Let me be the honey sweet mulled wine
Take me to dinner with your Prada
White girl no *** pearly teeth
Telling me really
'All men are pigs anyways my darling'
Making me her plump little Sunday swine
'Shall I feed at thy trough'
Earns me a red cheek'd slap
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 7:32 PM UTC
Behind the eight ball
she sits.
Resigned.
From her pimp's
leash,
she's lead.
Deadweight, she feels
his ways and ills,
like cattle, that's branded.
Best she hustles,
or be backhanded.
Once molded,
she learns to light up
Big Daddy's cigar
and bring him his pie loaded.
More cabbage to fill his gold baggage.
Sometimes he spares a small leaf for her.
Though times she short, his fist takes sport.
And every night
she plays for the band
of her john's,
singing their song,
while a thousand ****** of light
inches along all wrong.
The nameless, faceless and most relentless
getting their fill.
A flower in her wails loves not fear.
However, Big Daddy's eyes are always near.
She knows better than to run
past the pasture gates
onto verdant fields,
free as a bird,
without a home, money or vocation
and ever so fearful of Big Daddy's gun.
A flower in her wails loves not fears.
As she remembers those first tears.
A Big Daddy's indoctrination.
It started off on social media,
a whim
a fantasy went wrong.
Three nights her body violated,
Big Daddy's cavalry,
descending on her picnic,
wax and whips,
a thousand ****** of might,
and the scream of the night.
Coldcocked.
Say hello to the new girl on the block.
A flower in her wails loves not fears.
Her youth robbed as the days morph into years.
Like a blur.
The guise, the lure, the drugs, the fear.
The trap.
Eighteen young became twenty-four old.
A lost puppy to her folks back home.
And every lost night
she struts her Prada dress a little higher
Big Daddy has a buyer.
Logan Robertson
7/27/2018
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 6:32 AM UTC
If Doraemon is real,
I'll use his 'Hopter' to go above the clouds
Shout all my pains and get out from the crowd,
Wait for the rain and see the lightning strike the ground.
If Doraemon is real,
I'll use his 'anywhere door' to travel around the world
Oh, I'll bring my wardrobe, my lover, my bed and even my dog
With one step, I can go anywhere and write it on my blog.
If Doraemon is real,
I'll use his 'copying toast' to get different certifications
I'll memorize Merriam, Websters, Harry Potter and have an oration
I'll be the smartest person alive and wait I can feel the mutation!
If Doraemon is real,
I'll use his 'dress up camera' to get all all the dress that I want
I'm going to wear Gucci, Prada, Channel and even Dolce and Gabbana
I'll be more than the Hollywood stars, yeah I don't need Santa.
But Doraemon is not real,
He's not even mine, he is Nobita's childhood best friend.
That show taught me a great lesson - you don't need any gadget
to be happy, to have friends, to be satisfied or to feel loved.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 10:29 PM UTC
Perhaps I will become a waxing fiend.
A perpetrator of the nerves within my legs
In order to reach the imaginary beauty
that society has ingrained into my open mind.
Yet how can I ever fulfil this growing hole inside
Urging, commanding that I shall not be beautiful
Without Revlon mascara and tinted eyebrows,
That my diet must consist of a celery stick a day
And I must have a new wardrobe every week
- to keep in with the highest of fashions.
Do men really care if I'm wearing Gucci or Prada?
Would my restricted diet and devotion to thinspiration blogs impress them?
Has society really just given up on the love of personality,
the good old fashioned 'inner beauty'?
May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012 at 2:19 AM UTC
Frank Sinatra
En mi casa
Copy pastarino
Wearin Prada
Russian opera
Quentin Tarantino
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC
She wears Prada from head to toe
All eyes on her when she steps in..
She...
breathtakingly a beautiful goddess
She...
Femininely revealing ....
Provocatively showing...
Her Silky white flesh hidden and revealed...
Is it the dress?
No..
Is it the face?
No
Its the body
No
Is it the *** appeal?
No and Yes I guess
So help to define **** please....
**** is not always beautiful
Being beautiful is ****
**** in your eyes
Pretty ugly in mine
**** is hard to define
isn't it?
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
Without a lover who'd slash your heart
Or an impudent cut across your cheek by your step mother
Without the pain, without things to bother
Without the mosquito and the rat,
Without Malaria and plague to smother
You will be living in paradise
Dear friend, you just realized
This is Earth, the devil's prada.
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 3:14 AM UTC
In my Prada purse, I carry my heavy medical textbook
I carry an extra tube of my MAC lipstick in Russian Red
I carry a comb
My ID
A clear nail polish topcoat
And a bottle of eye drops that I avoid using because it makes my mascara run.
In my wholesome home, I have glossy tiled bathrooms
Pristine, crisp, snow white curtains
Organic, citrus scented cleansers
Granite counter tops
And large mahogany desks.
In my hollow heart I cradle my worries of a straying spouse,
My anger towards the anonymous administrator
My notions of a sneaky baba
My choking OCD
My crippling debt to a vile man
And the breaking weight of having to shield my children from all that goes on behind locked doors.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC
JIMMY large nose natural hipster totally informed clever funny sincere yet aloof
JOEY tall tan lanky physique long thick brown hair in braid striking good looks yet self-unaware
SHANNON athletic build attractive brunette accomplished poet so good she doesn’t need to prove it emotional sensitive tough
ANNE Joni Mitchell good looks bohemian self-effacing impulsive submissive *****
ACT 1 scene 1
a deserted chic indie reception area somewhere present 8:30 PM
JIMMY (singling out Anne) you’re so beautiful i want you so bad
ANNE oh yeah you’re sweet to say that
JIMMY i mean it you symbolize hope inspiration in me
ANNE hope? oh god
Anne looks away runs fingers through her hair
JIMMY hear that song over the speakers?
ANNE yeah
JIMMY it’s “Home” Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes very cool check out rough trade east version on youtube
ANNE yeah right
Anne blows air out her nose looks away in Shannon’s direction
SHANNON (singling out Joey) do you read?
JOEY yeah some
SHANNON what are you currently reading?
JOEY uh a text about economic international relations
SHANNON hmmm interesting do you ever read literature or poetry?
JOEY nah not much
SHANNON like movies?
JOEY yeah sure some
SHANNON what’s you’re favorite movies?
JOEY “The Devil Wore Prada” “Eddie” “I’m Not There” i don’t know there are tons of movies i enjoy
SHANNON interesting
JOEY i need to ask Jimmy something excuse me
Joey walks across area to Jimmy
JOEY that western shirt looks so cool on you
JIMMY thanks yeah it’s a hip shirt what up dude?
JOEY oh god Shannon is hitting on me she’s way too full of herself way too available
JIMMY hmmm nice toned body bet she’s a tiger in the hay
JOEY not interested
JIMMY me neither but i could be persuaded honestly i’m blown away with Anne
Anne approaches Shannon
ANNE Jimmy is a conceited **** he thinks he’s so cool Shannon you look so beautiful this evening your hair complexion
SHANNON funny I felt so blah all day what did Jimmy say to you? he’s not my type but not so bad if only he had Joey’s looks Joey’s shy sweetness look at Joey over there his eyes lips he’s so **** I think I’m falling in love and yet i recognize falling in love requires a huge territory of untried tolerance
Anne’s fingers stealthily pocket Shannon’s tortoise-shell comb while Shannon observes Joey fawning over Jimmie across room
ACT 2
refer to ACT 1 scene 1
Jul 3, 2010
Jul 3, 2010 at 6:15 AM UTC
I'm not a person who collects things
I live a very minimalist's life
But I have a bag of treasures
I keep close to me day and night
I sleep on an old painted daybed
It squeaks softly as I lay down
Most of my clothes are second hand
And my shoes a little worn down
But I have some precious treasures
Hidden in bags of different names
Fendi, Burberry and Prada
Leathers and fabrics of worldly fame
My treasures are hidden deep inside
In makeup bags and zippered pockets
Shiny compacts full of velvety colors
From Paris, Milan and Rome
A black cloth bag of 8 tiny bottles
Protected from the sun and rain
Bottles of perfume oils made in an alchemist's lab
With names like Dragon's Milk, Snow White and Bliss
A Christian Dior handkerchief or two
Hangs delicately inside the bag
In case the breeze brings on a sneeze
Or I notice a tear in the eye of a friend
by Mark Lj
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
They bribed me with promises of Audis and poverty reduction.
A six-figure salary, insurance, and free weekends.
They lured me with Prada bags, Chanel Shades and scarves by Hermes.
Vacations in Nice, transits in Paris, and business trips to Beijing.
They said I could meet the Dalai Lama, Bill Gates and the Queen of England,
have wine with Sarkozy, break bread with Al Gore, and kiss Prince William.
They dangled real men, real love and post-marital affairs in front of me
and gave me dreams of seven husbands and no divorces.
They convinced me to grow up and walk across the stage,
and their promises made me smile as I crossed over to the other side.
Today, I lay in my hammock wishing they’d promised me a job as well.
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 11:22 AM UTC
A traffic jam at 2 am?
My work just done, tired I am.
Is misfortune a thing with me?
A fallacy unknown maybe.
Recalled the time iPhone at max,
An accident my old was cracked.
Or day my rags compelled I splurge,
The day some Prada had to surge.
In Dubai, Grab’s copter went down,
With lover, boyfriend’s stuck in town.
Cold ***** camel ride through night,
Paid Bed’uin gold, or wait till light.
My friends all say I’m blessed and rich,
But life with peace I’ll rather switch.
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC
we are stripped down
to blood and bone
no skin at all
because that isn't beautiful
our eyes are the colors of
emerald greens and
intense blue crystals
because brown isn't beautiful
we need designer things
Gucci and Prada
not target and walmart
because clothes need to be beautiful
if this is what beauty is
then i cant give it to you
i can act real
but we'll always be a little fake
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
I got complete love for all you jiggas
But I'm trying to hurt, slay and ****** all you jiggas
It's not that I'm a militant mind
I just know competition can either enhance your strive or leave you to die!
Who am I?
Maybe the greatest untold story...the one that focused on pain but zoomed out on all my glory
Shut up!
Take another sip of your ego and chase that muthafucker down with a full glass of all of your evil
And call ya boy up
I think his name was kaneval
Separate all your selfishness
Hand out your blessing and see if you and god can finally become equal
I can't take ya
But I can't leave ya
I just feel at times I'm suffocating so I use your energy to break ya!
Remember that I'm unheard of
Rarely do ya listen
A woman still says a man AIN'T ****
THAN TURNS AROUND TO HER FRIEND AND WHISPERS..."love is what my heart is missing"
Are serious?
Manipulation got ya dreary *** minds all curious? So you grab the wheel and suddenly you in control?
She was the one who traded in her pride, self respect and worth all for a false story to be told
then you went home with him
got a bedtime story told from him
now it's your bitterness that's not working out like fitness that creates a beautiful smile to turn sour and grim.
You probably wondering "what **** got Dougy so mad?"(DJbreak)
BREAK THAT!
It's D-O-U-G-I-E
but I'm sure that was my bad...
cause ya can't take responsibility for your daily mistakes
PAC gave me the vice, told me to apply pressure and see how much you weaklings can take!
Anger formed from danger has me dressed in devils wear prada as I put my "heroes" on a hanger and allow them to see me as a modern day king, walk amongst all these strangers
Hit em with a look only to leave the ordinary shook and read the options in they life like they illustrated a personal book
Then go and send false advice
knowing it wasn't right
You stupid muthafuckers!
Domestication still is untamed and has all the ability too bite!
Hold on for the fight
or throw in the towel!
A Evil Intention Overwhelms U!
I dare ya to pick one of my vowels!!!!
....tell Kendrick I'm a monster
He can take cali
THE WHOLE WORLD IM PREPARED TO CONQUER!
-Dougie Simps
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 1:39 AM UTC
oh how we worship the pretty people
despite them being the source of so much evil
and lust to be just like them
we find so much ******** believable and think each of them a gem
the glamorous, the beautiful, the ****
"did you see the new tweet? after the show I hope they text me!"
we follow them through the movies into their church steeples
hollywood and all it's heights of it's anointed peoples
the magazines are their bibles and we hold none of them liable
for the lies they've told or the lives they ruin being unreliable
with every story they're spinning
they want us to believe they're "winning"
marriage, divorce, wife number three
new baby carriage, move to the golf course, life under palm trees
remain calm and know things are always ok if you can sing and be pretty
I pity the soulless with hot faces, no social graces but lots of *** in the city
and we love their scandals we can't get enough
every news stand proving america has more than a crush
on the movie stars, on the models, on their cars, on the rush
of thinking we could be them if we just got a new nose and a tuck
who put Brangelina's kids' new brother on every magazine cover
but never the military heroes who live to protect you while they duck for cover?
**** the sheep who keep the weakness in our families
who want the news filled with the new runways fashion and grammys
instead of the problems that need solutions and what real life should mean
we need action and my reaction is to lift the small faction of thinkers up to be seen
we need a cause to cut loose the famous like weights and hate their **********
ignore the models, shun the actors, pay the teachers, appreciate the surgeons
being pretty is a gift not a skill
being hot isn't exactly curing cancer or healing the ill
but we still want what we can't have, much worse than reality
another prada handbag under the disposable christmas tree
them or us, I don't know what's a worse diversion
I guess I'm just not pretty enough to be a "real" person
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 1:03 AM UTC
**** that little willy'd ****** *** lick'n; Skid mark sitt'n
Horror written; Square to circle fitt'n
Kid in frame lifted; Menapose acting
Habit of rabidly crashing into walls of madness;
Precision in his crack-head tactics;
Sky's backdrop to average;
Newspaper wrapped is this devil's package;
He's a mask filled with gas from a bean eating flaccid fascist;
Disrespectful **** sack;
A testament to where God's blessing had left his breath;
And bitten lip was given; Heaven's sin times seven;
Building this living devil hell hole;
Logic of Kelso; Autistic clap of the elbows;
Destined for death row;
Festering hatred, New York to Sacramento;
Hitler's stencil by broke'n pencil;
Bigger ***** then Elmo;
Range of insanity; With driver in hand, You tee up family;
Frantically filling fantasy of being calamity personified as Anthony
Majority holder in depressions percentage;
Son of a Prada wearing father; Regarded by all as Caustic;
Temper Atomic; Reasoning Neurotic
Monotonic **** You
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 4:53 PM UTC
The devil wears prada
Yet his daughter drives Bugatti
Cruising down the fast lane
Seducing everybody
Reducing human bodies
Recruiting for illuminati
Promising *** and fame and giving all the souls to papi
And I ain't too proud to say that this demon almost got me
Her good looks and mystery were just enough to rock me wild
Everything about her had me profound
Long hair, perfect smile
Wayne and jays, perfect style
Boats and planes, she gets around
In every way you thinking bout
Her ***** lips are open doors
Everybody's in and out
She got a phone full of young men
And they all want her
Meanwhile she in her whip telling them to swerve
Up until they feel desperate enough to give that girl the world
And she takes it
And ruins it
And makes their life congruent with
The hell that they will soon know when Seducila is through with them
But when they find out its too late
Through the legs of Seducila they meet the Devil's gates to stay
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
You painted my world with words
Words of happiness, love, heartaches
Words of heartaches, pain, tears
An art of nothingness and of played hearts
An almost art turned into ashes
Ashes turned into nothing
Nothing into a nonexistent word
If only that word bloomed into life
Maybe our story could have been printed
Somehow I hoped it would last
But it didn't even had a chance to start
And there are poems I made for you
Yet because of you
I wish this will be the last
You've always made me feel important
I never learned anything at all
'Cause like a star that became a black hole
I felt sorry for myself
I became an empty space
I am sorry
For I loved you... on my own
I know I still do
But this madness has to end
I shouldn't be involved with you anymore
You who carelessly handled my heart
Made me feel like a Prada on sale;
Without a second thought, you pushed me away
Guarding your own heart but mine.
For always being there for you,
For making you feel special,
For being so annoying and frustrating,
For wanting to be with you always,
For starting those conversations,
For the late night texts I put you through,
I am sorry.
For singing you a lullaby at night,
For loving your voice over the phone,
For loving you;
For loving you more than I love myself,
For my eyes now filled with sadness,
I am so sorry for myself.
This is the last time I'll write about you.
This is the last piece I've ever written for you.
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC