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Needle, needle, dip and dart,
Thrusting up and down,
Where's the man could ease a heart
Like a satin gown?

See the stitches curve and crawl
Round the cunning seams--
Patterns thin and sweet and small
As a lady's dreams.

Wantons go in bright brocade;
Brides in organdie;
Gingham's for the plighted maid;
Satin's for the free!

Wool's to line a miser's chest;
Crepe's to calm the old;
Velvet hides an empty breast
Satin's for the bold!

Lawn is for a bishop's yoke;
Linen's for a nun;
Satin is for wiser folk--
Would the dress were done!

Satin glows in candlelight--
Satin's for the proud!
They will say who watch at night,
"What a fine shroud!"
Fay Slimm Nov 2016
THINK SATIN, not silk and make it sheer black.

RUN IT slowly through sensitive finger-tip skin.
Black satin shimmers.
FEEL IT creamily smooth like alchemized liquid.
Black satin scintillates.
HOLD IT cool against lips and breathe slowly in.
Black satin stimulates.
TRY IT sensuously folded for more sinuous cling.
Black satin slithers.
WEAR IT bravely, accentuate bedtime's nakedity.
Black satin satiates.

THINK SATIN, not silk and make it sheer black.
Ja May 2016
A sheet of white satin
Half covers her curves
Her back is exposed
And my passion stirs

The rising sun’s rays
Set her contours aglow
She’s sleeping half naked
And my urges grow

The arc of her back
Exposes her spine
Each dimple and ridge
Make her look divine

Her arm, raised above her
Entangled in hair
Displaying a breast
At her ******, I stare

This sheet of white satin
Clings to hip and to cheek
Beneath it the treasure
That I must now seek

She’s just laying there
Asleep, so sublime
My temperature’s rising
I hope she’ll be mine

The rise of her hip
Its treasure below
I’m burning inside
Its pleasures to know

That sheet of white satin
Drapes just her backside
I must get closer
So towards her I slide

I stretch out my arm
Such a tentative reach
So sad an attempt
To, that white satin breach

I entice the white satin
To slip from her cheek
Exposing her buttock
It’s the crevice I seek

I sense she is stirring
I’m frozen with fear
Close my eyes tight
So asleep to appear

When I open my eyes
Not a thing in my bed
Just a sheet of white satin
It was all in my head

The Trumpet-Vine Arbour

The throats of the little red trumpet-flowers are wide open,
And the clangour of brass beats against the hot sunlight.
They bray and blare at the burning sky.
Red! Red! Coarse notes of red,
Trumpeted at the blue sky.
In long streaks of sound, molten metal,
The vine declares itself.
Clang! -- from its red and yellow trumpets.
Clang! -- from its long, nasal trumpets,
Splitting the sunlight into ribbons, tattered and shot with noise.

I sit in the cool arbour, in a green-and-gold twilight.
It is very still, for I cannot hear the trumpets,
I only know that they are red and open,
And that the sun above the arbour shakes with heat.
My quill is newly mended,
And makes fine-drawn lines with its point.
Down the long, white paper it makes little lines,
Just lines -- up -- down -- criss-cross.
My heart is strained out at the pin-point of my quill;
It is thin and writhing like the marks of the pen.
My hand marches to a squeaky tune,
It marches down the paper to a squealing of fifes.
My pen and the trumpet-flowers,
And Washington's armies away over the smoke-tree to the Southwest.
'Yankee Doodle,' my Darling! It is you against the British,
Marching in your ragged shoes to batter down King George.
What have you got in your hat? Not a feather, I wager.
Just a hay-straw, for it is the harvest you are fighting for.
Hay in your hat, and the whites of their eyes for a target!
Like Bunker Hill, two years ago, when I watched all day from the house-top
Through Father's spy-glass.
The red city, and the blue, bright water,
And puffs of smoke which you made.
Twenty miles away,
Round by Cambridge, or over the Neck,
But the smoke was white -- white!
To-day the trumpet-flowers are red -- red --
And I cannot see you fighting,
But old Mr. Dimond has fled to Canada,
And Myra sings 'Yankee Doodle' at her milking.
The red throats of the trumpets bray and clang in the sunshine,
And the smoke-tree puffs dun blossoms into the blue air.


The City of Falling Leaves

Leaves fall,
Brown leaves,
Yellow leaves streaked with brown.
They fall,
Fall again.
The brown leaves,
And the streaked yellow leaves,
Loosen on their branches
And drift slowly downwards.
One, two, three,
One, two, five.
All Venice is a falling of Autumn leaves --
And yellow streaked with brown.

'That sonnet, Abate,
I am quite exhausted by it.
Your phrases turn about my heart
And stifle me to swooning.
Open the window, I beg.
Lord! What a strumming of fiddles and mandolins!
'Tis really a shame to stop indoors.
Call my maid, or I will make you lace me yourself.
Fie, how hot it is, not a breath of air!
See how straight the leaves are falling.
Marianna, I will have the yellow satin caught up with silver fringe,
It peeps out delightfully from under a mantle.
Am I well painted to-day, 'caro Abate mio'?
You will be proud of me at the 'Ridotto', hey?
Proud of being 'Cavalier Servente' to such a lady?'
'Can you doubt it, 'Bellissima Contessa'?
A pinch more rouge on the right cheek,
And Venus herself shines less . . .'
'You bore me, Abate,
I vow I must change you!
A letter, Achmet?
Run and look out of the window, Abate.
I will read my letter in peace.'
The little black slave with the yellow satin turban
Gazes at his mistress with strained eyes.
His yellow turban and black skin
Are gorgeous -- barbaric.
The yellow satin dress with its silver flashings
Lies on a chair
Beside a black mantle and a black mask.
Yellow and black,
Gorgeous -- barbaric.
The lady reads her letter,
And the leaves drift slowly
Past the long windows.
'How silly you look, my dear Abate,
With that great brown leaf in your wig.
Pluck it off, I beg you,
Or I shall die of laughing.'

A yellow wall
Aflare in the sunlight,
Chequered with shadows,
Shadows of vine leaves,
Shadows of masks.
Masks coming, printing themselves for an instant,
Then passing on,
More masks always replacing them.
Masks with tricorns and rapiers sticking out behind
Pursuing masks with plumes and high heels,
The sunlight shining under their insteps.
One, two,
One, two, three,
There is a thronging of shadows on the hot wall,
Filigreed at the top with moving leaves.
Yellow sunlight and black shadows,
Yellow and black,
Gorgeous -- barbaric.
Two masks stand together,
And the shadow of a leaf falls through them,
Marking the wall where they are not.
From hat-tip to shoulder-tip,
From elbow to sword-hilt,
The leaf falls.
The shadows mingle,
Blur together,
Slide along the wall and disappear.
Gold of mosaics and candles,
And night blackness lurking in the ceiling beams.
Saint Mark's glitters with flames and reflections.
A cloak brushes aside,
And the yellow of satin
Licks out over the coloured inlays of the pavement.
Under the gold crucifixes
There is a meeting of hands
Reaching from black mantles.
Sighing embraces, bold investigations,
Hide in confessionals,
Sheltered by the shuffling of feet.
Gorgeous -- barbaric
In its mail of jewels and gold,
Saint Mark's looks down at the swarm of black masks;
And outside in the palace gardens brown leaves fall,
And yellow streaked with brown.

Blue-black, the sky over Venice,
With a pricking of yellow stars.
There is no moon,
And the waves push darkly against the prow
Of the gondola,
Coming from Malamocco
And streaming toward Venice.
It is black under the gondola hood,
But the yellow of a satin dress
Glares out like the eye of a watching tiger.
Yellow compassed about with darkness,
Yellow and black,
Gorgeous -- barbaric.
The boatman sings,
It is Tasso that he sings;
The lovers seek each other beneath their mantles,
And the gondola drifts over the lagoon, aslant to the coming dawn.
But at Malamocco in front,
In Venice behind,
Fall the leaves,
And yellow streaked with brown.
They fall,
Rachel Ace Apr 2017
You look like a light-colored satin
Stars f
              l on your caramel hair
Your laureate crown is permanent

You walk fast as a local feline
L'Empereur far from his throne
You look disoriented
You look tired

It's nightfalling
Resolution parts
The moon shines
Gold minds

Lace L'étoile
Jeune ace
Shiny sleeves

I go through a mirror
You're sitting in there
I hide carefully
Not to be alert
I have found myself again
Dreaming of you inside
The reflection of your mirror

At night my opal
                           sleeves are made of satin.

   - Codelandandmore// 6:00 PM ©
Modern poem
Michael Czech Aug 2012
Pink satin covers her...compliments her womanly frame...
every curve so perfect before my eyes
sunlight shimmering through the window onto her tanned skin
oh such shapeliness that consumes the soul....ignites such desire....
pink satin lingerie conforming to her sultry frame
she sits by the window...watching me with a loving smile....
telling me to come hither without saying a word...
as I long to reveal to her all this soul hungers for....
to let my fingers touch the soft, smoothness of her skin...
feeling her shiver in sweet bliss from like meet....ravenous embrace...
we speak of such fiery desires that grow....without saying a word....
oh yes my Lady....My love.....
open yourself to me and let me in...make me a part of you....
to grow so close together....nothing shall ever make us part....
she is my angel in pink ravishing her beauty is
that mere words can never truly compliment it...
how how I long to hold her so close to me
her ******* pressed against my chest
as fingertip run up and down her back
listening to her soft breath....gentle whispers of devotion...
while within that moment...we are one in spirit...
hearts entwined....and together...we complete each other so perfectly...
she is my angel in pink muse to the words I write...
my every passionate desire...and the meaning of the love in my heart.
Whiskurz Jan 2013
She lies in her bed night after night
While crying her satin tears
Her satin pillows, her only comfort
Her husband's been gone for years

He went away to fight in a war
In a far and distant land
He didn't come home like he promised he would
For he died alone in the sand

People would say, "It gets better in time"
But her wounds grow deeper each day
Her scars from a war she didn't even fight
Simply, just won't go away

Those satin pillows retain his smell
But each day his scent grows weak
She holds the pillow close to her heart
As she nestles it with her cheek

She talks to the pillow from time to time
It mostly calms her fears
She cries herself to sleep each night
In a puddle of satin tears
brandon nagley Apr 2016
She came covered in satin-silk hair,
Displayed by rainbowed Ray's;
A visage of God's awe,
And wing's that flew uncaged.
I kneweth her once afore,
In the natural form of grace;
The welkin's own, a soul I've
Known, regalia clase.
O' athwart twas I,
That seized her
Breath, the
Roaring sky's o'er
Happiness. She tucked
Her head, into mine chest;
As the rest played out
As a utopian scene.
Twas not a dream,
Or drug induced
Illusion, some get
Amour confused
With the devil's
Confusion, though we
Art an infusion;
Two antediluvian
Specter shades,
Her color is yellow
For the sun, mine is blue;
From the deepest of water's,
And the river of life
Out of God's throne
I pulled Jane through.

©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( àgapi mou) dedication
Afore- before
Regalia means -the emblems or insignia of royalty, especially the crown, scepter, and other ornaments used at a coronation.
the distinctive clothing worn and ornaments carried at formal occasions as an indication of status....
Clase- word I made up meaning- classy and tasteful.
Welkin- heaven or sky.
athwart- across; in opposition to; sideways; transversely.
Twas- it was..
O'er- over..
Art- are
Amour- love.
Infusion- the introduction of a new element or quality into something.
Specter- ghost...
Antediluvian means- of or belonging to the time before the biblical Flood.
iya Jun 2015
Pag-ibig na tila ang tagal dumating
Nasa isip ay mga palabas na nakakakilig
Upang pag hihintay hindi nakakainip
Ngunit ito'y panandaliang saya lamang ang hatid.

Nais ng Panginoon na ipaalala satin
Na ang pag-ibig ay matagal ng dumating
Noong ipinagkaloob ni Hesus ang Kanyang sarili
Upang mga tao ay maligtas sa kasalanan.

Ang pag-ibig ng maykapal
Ay siyang tunay na nakakagalak
Nagbibigay sigla sa pusong naghahanap
Ating pagyamanin relasyon sa unang pag-ibig.
Cné Aug 2018

Souls embroidered with sweet sighs of passion
Musing of nights in lace & white satin
On a vista of flesh, flushed with desire
Riding the flames on a passage of fire

The beating of drums, commanding the night
To the rhythm of hearts, passion ignites
Wrapped in immortal flames of the sun
Burning together, two become one

Flesh upon flesh, a spirited dance
Welded by whispers of love, of romance
Temperatures rise in a fever of lust
Stoking the flames, ****** after ******

Riding the swell, in a race to the shore
Try to repress, but needing it more
Virtue be ****** in the rage of desire
Flames rise in hunger, higher n' higher

Charging the crest, temperance slips
Drawing the reins in a white knuckle grip
Crashing of waves unleashes the flood
Quaking the heart, and searing the blood

Spewing of flames in the crash of the tide
In a warm sheen of sweat, fervor subsides
Energy spent in the throes of release
Collapsing together, the story complete

Sara Kellie Dec 2017
My name is Sara, a transgender chick
Wanted a *****, was given a ****
I hide it in knickers of satin and lace
before sitting down to make-up my face,
Next the prosthetics, I'm using two bits.
Stuck to my chest, they'll do as my ****
Now for my legs I'll put on false tan,
I wouldn't do this if I were a man
Alternative nights, a t-girl delights
to sit on her bed and pull on new tights.
I'll put on a dress, a cute one no less.
Then for my shoes, high heels I choose
A sandal style shoe as every girl knows
not only looks cute, they'll show painted toes
A bit of eyeliner, eyebrow definer,
lipstick and blush, I'm now looking lush.
I stand in the mirror all ready to go,
there's only one question I just have to know.
"Does my *** look big in this?"

Poetry by Kaydee.
I wrote this poem in 2010 shortly after introducing myself as Sara to the world.
A curve of satin sits idly beneath a sight so deeply moved
Amid the stillness of a hope that longs to rise
The moon smiles down, as if he approves
A dream pursued by the eyes

The softest sound takes flight in a voices sweetest tune
In a misty stream of pale moonlight
Hands are clasped in a curving spoon
A taste of hope in sheer delight

Thrilled hearts sigh, dreaming of a blissful hour
Weep with joy as their wonder shows
The perfect bloom of a dream filled flower
A curve of satin did bestow

Hope shines in the misty moonlight, on the sweetest tune
A constant vigil in a dream pursued tonight
Swells inside two hearts which spoon
Deeply moved in their delight
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
Styles May 2017
Close your eyes
do not peek at me taking a peek
under your sun dress,
to address the radiant heat
your treasure box shaved neat
lips smoother than satin sheets
fingertips massaging
you pink peaks
as I take a peek
at the high-point of your ******
our intent meets
your fingers dig deep  as you spring free
your eyes roll back and your body relax
and your eyes relapse
struggling to catching your breath
with no energy left
you collapse
in my lap
Marian Jan 2014

The Beauty Of Flowers (Multiple Tankas I)

A field of tulips
Is where I laid down to sleep
And dream a sweet dream
Dew sparkled on the tulips
And fell upon my fair cheeks

In the shady woods
Ladyslipper Orchids grow
Near a babbling brook.
Yellows and Pinks standing tall
With ferns spreading all around.

Beside the ocean
The hibiscus are blooming
Such a sweet perfume
Lingers on the salty breeze
Such beautiful rainbow hues

Snowdrops are the first
To appear blooming in frost
Pure white heads nodding.
Cold hardy and full of life,
They offer a hope of Spring.

Beside the farmhouse
Gardenias are blooming
White satin blossoms
Their perfume is breathtaking
Rain-washed petals of fragrance

~Timothy & Marian~


La beauté des fleurs (plusieurs Tankas je)

Un champ de tulipes
Est où j'ai prévue de dormir
Et un doux rêve
Rosée brillait sur les tulipes
Et tomba sur mes joues justes

Dans les bois ombragés
Ladyslipper orchidées poussent
Près d'un petit ruisseau.
Jaunes et roses debout
Avec fougères répand tout autour.

À côté de l'océan
L'hibiscus sont en fleurs
Tel un doux parfum
S'attarde sur la brise salée
Ces teintes belle arc-en-ciel

Perce-neige est les premiers
À comparaître fleurissant en gel
Têtes blanches pures hochant la tête.
Résistantes au froid et pleine de vie,
Ils offrent un espoir de printemps.

À côté de la ferme
Gardénias sont en fleurs
Fleurs de satin blancs
Leur parfum est à couper le souffle
Pétales restés du parfum

*~ Timothy et Marian ~
Another Dad and Daughter collaboration.
Hope you enjoy! :)
© Timothy 10 January, 2014.
© Marian 10 January, 2014.
Sprawled on her twin bed, hungover, this story’s sad and true,
She is an early morning Whippoorwill, I an impotent worm,
The sheets, satin blue; her shower, comforting and warm,
She shakes and shivers the dust from her wings, I rediscover my underwear.

She is an early morning Whippoorwill, I an impotent worm,
Through bloodshot, insomnia riddled eyes, I glance at her,
She shakes and shivers the dust from her wings, I rediscover my underwear,
She straightens her hair, her visage all aglow, unusual at this hour.

Through bloodshot, insomnia riddled eyes, I glance at her,
She stares into her vanity, vainly she catches my gaze,
She straightens her hair, her visage all aglow, unusual at this hour,
Her smile sings Frere Jacques, her lips wet with French kisses.

She leaves for work, I stretch for the package of Reds, our vice in my hand,
The sheets, satin blue; her shower, comforting and warm,
Suddenly an invalid, blind, holding two cigarettes for just one lonesome man,
Sprawled on her twin bed, hungover, this story’s sad and true.
This is a Malaysian form of poetry called a pantoum, the only form of poetry that gets more fun the more times you say it.  There's a repeton joke in there somewhere
Kahulugan  ng kaibigan
Ano ng ba para satin
Karamay da lahat ng oras
Ating siyasatin
Minsan ako'y nalugmok
Siya  sakin ang umahon.

Karugtong ng buhay ko
Ikaw ang pintig ng puso ko
Pagmamahal na hindi ko natamo
Pinasibol mo sa puso buhay ko
SALAMAT na kataga kulang pang
Ipuri sayo.

Munting sulat ko ay iyong basahin
Tanging hiling ko'y wag kang mag bago sakin
Nag uumapaw na galak ng puso ko
Sana'y iyong madama rin.
Cné Sep 2017
Let me mold my body along your curves; trickle yourself into my entire being

Vulnerable, ****, my heart exposed, palpably we connect across the starry sky; you ... within me

I want your intimacy to linger along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone

I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dawn

Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our silhouettes melded on satin sheets

Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my rhythmic swell; forgive me of my quivering wanton needs

Allow me to graze at the gates of your femininity, drinking the honey from your pink walls; to feel your crowning point between my lips

How can I resist those wandering lips that stirs the curtains of my garden alcove; perfectly painted in honey dew, I throb for the touch of your kiss

Drape your thighs upon my shoulders; let the waves of satisfaction cascade up your spine

I beg to be released, dear God, of this intoxicating spell; I submit myself, heart laid bare; oceans of emotions no longer can I hide.

Find your eyes locking with mine; my torso parallels yours, my body pressed to you; equal in ferocity and tenderness

Mesmerize by your burning eyes in our melting flesh, so strong your hold; yet so tender your caress

Utter our names in fiery moans both whispered and screamed in heated breaths on our solitary night

Vile obscenities float out on heated breath, as cool air kiss our molded skin on the evening our time takes flight

Take me to your heart & cast away the flesh; allow our souls to weave in the throes of passion as our bodies mix into one; slow-motion ecstasy

A longing deep inside, the locked chambers of my soul to exotic places beyond our imaginationsyou sneak into my heart to fulfill my every fantasy 

Feed me the lullabies you paint on your canvas; orgiastic symphony we conduct in cascading tides; trembles throughout our bodies when our fluids mix

Let me paint upon your heart a ballet of our duet; the crescendo palette of my tide drown you in the spirit of our lyrics

Your ripe fruit quivers tenderly while our union completes; take my hands and let me be yours

Hold my sated body that tremors from the wake; a union of our souls ensnare a bond secure
A Collaboration with Jack Jenkins.
gd Mar 2015
I still get flashbacks.
Like that time we explored a forest at a whim
and found out we had a thing for bridges.

And I think it was because we were both awestruck
with how easily we were connected by two apposing worlds,
so we made our way to the middle of the arc to claim it as ours.
And you used to hold me from behind with satin hands;
a soft satin parachute
that was ready to catch me if I ever fell.

And every single time I did, you were there.
You cupped my big cheeks,
the ones you always made fun of,
and kissed me for the first time in the middle of green and bush
like we were the first humans on earth,
destined to be the last.

But now I'm staring out the window of my car
and I'm freezing inside and out.
The earth is no longer green;
it's white,
plain Jane
and frozen.

It's surface is glistening against the moon
and I'm witnessing more sleepless nights
than I did when your presence was still part of my life.
The sheets of snow look like sheets of cotton,
so close to satin.
So close.

But I promise you, Love,
they could never replicate your touch.

It's covering the soil we used to explore on,
as well as my leftover slivers of sanity
I've barley managed to scavenge.
And I can almost guarantee,
if I fall,
nothing will be there to catch me.

I still get flashbacks, mostly of our bridge.
But it's just a memory now
because all the green and bush and trees
that once surrounded us have gone silent,
all the trees have forgotten who we are,
all the trees have turned to ash.

{the stars still spell out your name}
Wayne H Colegate Sep 2012
I lay upon the satin sheets
As the lights burn through my head
And struggle with my memory
To recall just what I said.
I turned and put my hand across
The body that I share
And wondered in my empty mind
if it really pays’ to care?
“What’s in sharing life” I ask,
But only half for me
God, these satin sheets feel cool
and in my hand the key.
I guess I’ll stay for one more night
She really shouldn’t mind,
She seems to like my company
and my cool evasive kind.
Perhaps when morning comes around
I’ll pack and move awhile
To another bed with satin sheets
and a temporary smile.
Copyright Protected ...Wayne H. Colegate- From Reflections On Gravestones and Satin Sheets
Styles May 2017
Her flesh
was his canvas
his hands spread over her body
like paint saturating its canvas
emotions surfaced
like oil paintings
her body shivered dying for his strokes
long throws of passion
sliding across her body like
satin brushes over skin
Sugar, satin, and spices
Every girl has her vices
Words slip out like sweet molasses
Time slows down as each one passes
Take me captive in your arms
Each breath you take calms and warms
Let this moment never pass
Love me now, like no one has.
David Beltran Sep 2011
There's one thing
I have to tell you.

I can't stop uttering,
anything about you.

Whether its about the midnight rain
and how it describes your voice so well,
or the way you won't stop singing,
till you're satisfied and sewn me to sleep.

If I look at the dark orange spotted afternoon,
or the satin red leaves of autumn.
I'll know its been a while since I've thought
of you.

If I hear the chalky barren concert of concrete,
or the uproar of the arid wind.
I'll have forgotten what your voice
sounds like.

If I feel the reticent tremble of winter,
or the cold bitter piercing destitute bed.
I'll remember why our adulation had
my heart in a headlock.

I cannot give you the world
or my name.
Because I do not own them.
All I can give you is my love and lungs,
that is all that I have and hold.

All I'll ever ask of you is for your voice and love.
You make my head lighter with just
some notes you sing.
I would like to thank the community for keeping this beautiful website free.
I would also like to receive feedback and criticism on this poem.
Thank you.
Euphoria May 2016
Pagod na ko sa kakasulat.
Hindi ka naman ata namumulat
Sa sakit at hinagpis na iyong dala.
Na sa puso ko'y nagsisilbing bala.
Mapapatawad pa ba natin ang isa't isa,
Sa mga sala nating nagawa na nagpatung-patong na?
Kailanman hindi ito napunta sa aking hinuha
Na tayo maiiwang may agwat at sirang-sira.
Kaibigan, ako sana'y patawarin
Sa pagpayag sa mga bagay na maaaring sumira satin.
Patawarin mo sana ang pusong nagmamahal
Na sumira sa pagkakaibigan nating kay tagal.
Nalulungkot, nasasaktan ang puso ko sa ideya
Na ang minsan kaibigan ay isang estranghero na.
Patawarin ako sa pagbibigay ng hinagpis
Sa iyong kaluluwang takot at puno ng pagtitiis.
Kaibigan, ito'y hindi pagmamalabis
Ang tanging hiling ko lang ay huwag kang tumangis
Sabihin mo lamang kung ika'y nasasaktan na
Huwag kang mag-alala, handa na kong iwan ka.
Kung ang pagkakaibigang ito ay hindi na masasalba
Sabihin mo lang, wag nang magdalawang isip pa
Dahil sa pagtakbo ng oras, lumalaki lamang ang lamat
Unti-unting nababasag, nasisira ng hindi naman dapat.
Kaibigan, sana'y sabihin mo
Kung gusto mo pa bang ipagpatuloy ito.
Pagkakaibigang puno ng tawanan
Nagapos ng pangakong walang iwanan.
Pagkaibigang pinahahalagahan
Hindi sinasadyang masira at mayurakan
Sa paglipas ng panahon
Nagbago na ang noon at ngayon
Ngunit umaasa pa rin ako
Na hanggang sa dulo'y magkaibigan pa rin tayo
Kaya pa ba natin patawarin ang isa't isa gayong tila lumalayo ka na?
The satin gown of hope a myth
   The heroes fallen                                      
                                    to the abyss

The bloom of death, no longer risen
Our souls trapped in endless prison

        Existence the master of all
        masked curses
              A song of tragedy with endless

   So if dying breath comes anyway
                  What's it matter
                 How soon the day

All suns set
Some plan no dawn
They care not for those who mourn

           I wish myself
      The blood to stop
     To soon not hold
   A single drop

So I promise you my heart for free
       If you swear
   You'll rip it out of me
why doesn't hello poetry like metaphorical Shakespearean poetry? its so pretty?
judy smith Nov 2015
Chelsy Davy looked slinky in a **** satin dress as she joined a host of celebrities at the VIP premier of Burberry's new Christmas advert tonight.

The 30-year-old braved the November cold with a thigh-high-split dress with a plunging neckline, and halterneck straps, that showed off her toned arms and shoulders.

Prince Harry's old flame joined some of the biggest and best British names including Naomi Campbell, Rosie Huntington-Whitely and Romeo Beckham at the fashion house's flagship store in Regent Street.

Although Chelsey doesn't star in the Burberry ad campaign like many of the other guests, she used the opportunity to show off her style credentials in a silky black dress which showed off her figure.

Accessorising with a gold necklace, rings and charm bracelets, and a chain-mail edged envelope clutch, she did bring a leather jacket, but carried it with her bag despite the winter weather.

Chelsey had stiff competition in the **** stakes though, with Rosie Huntington-Whiteley dazzling in a provocative ensemble.

The model, who does star in Burberry's festive film, showed off her impressive figure in a skimpy satin body, which she teamed with a semi-sheer skirt and a pair of thigh-high suede boots.

Rosie teased her hair into loose waves and sported simple make up, so it didn't detract from her captivating outfit.

Her campaign co-star Naomi Campbell opted for an all-pink outfit - arriving in a rose suede jacket showing off a slither of her berry dress underneath.

And of course the model of the moment Romeo Beckham was on hand to celebrate his appearance in the film too.

The 13-year-old looked incredibly dapper in a navy suit with a matching skirt and tie as well as a polka dot Burberry printed scarf.

Downton Abbey's Michelle Dockery was one of the first of the cast to arrive and made her entrance wearing Burberry of course.

The 33-year-old actress was sporting a chic plum coat, simple black jeans and a pale pink jumper for the evening.

The campaign which was shot by Mario Testino and celebrates the 15th anniversary of Billy Elliot with an all British cast and begins with original footage from the 2000 film, as well as the original soundtrack - ‘Cosmic Dancer’ by T Rex - by permission of Working Title.

World-renowned photographer, Mario, also shot a separate stills campaign featuring Romeo, Naomi, Rosie, and James that will run across print and digital titles.

Speaking about the campaign, Christopher Bailey said: 'Billy Elliot is an incredible film full of so much joy and energy, so it was a real thrill and a great honour to be able to celebrate its 15 year anniversary through our Festive campaign.

'It was also a huge privilege to work with such amazing and iconic British talent – the cast are quite simply some of the biggest names in film, music and fashion and it was so much fun working with them all to make this special film.'

Burberry will no doubt be hoping for a boost thanks to Romeo Beckham.

At the start of the year, it was reported that thanks to his last Burberry Christmas advert, sales of the brand's classic £1,500 trench coats shot up a substantial 10 per cent.

The fashion label credited the then 12-year-old son of David and Victoria Beckham for its rise in sales in the US, Europe and the Middle East after he starred in their Christmas advert last year.

The advert, which was first released in November, was the first ever Christmas campaign for Burberry and starred Romeo alongside 50 dancers all clad in the beige trench coats.

Such was his popularity in the film - called From London With Love - that it was watched nine million times after being released.

The original production of Billy Elliot established a legacy of charitable support for the local community of Easington, County Durham where the film is set.

Inspired by this, Burberry is making a donation of £500,000 to be split between two charities, Place2Be and the County Durham Community Foundation, that have projects focusing on reducing barriers to education, training and employment in the local area. This donation is made in recognition of each artists' participation in the campaign.

PrttyBrd Jul 2015
Crossing the room in slow motion
She watches his muscles move in the moonlight
Oh how they glisten in anticipation
Sit my pet, in a whisper
At her feet he waits with bated breath
So pleased at his obedience
Such a simple command
He inches closer
His eagerness evident in his silence
In his omission of a proper response
An outfaced palm and he stops short
Sitting back on his feet, hands in lap, eyes to the floor
I'm sorry Ma'am, he says
That is evident by his failure to respond
He knows what is coming
Grabbing the back of his hair she forces his eyes to hers
Position, she says disgustedly
She leans back in the armchair as he pulls her hips to the edge
He lifts one leg and gently places it over the arm
Then he positions the other in the same manner
Sitting back on his feet, facing the floor
His arousal is evident, as is his moist anticipation
The word is grunted through gritted teeth
He leans into heaven
Hovering an inch away
Slow deep breaths
He breathes in her essence wanting nothing more
Than to bridge the gap with his tongue
White satin and peekaboo lace
She runs down the rules of his punishment
Will you touch the Goddess
No Ma'am
Will you drool on the Goddess
No Ma'am
Will you move without permission
No Ma'am
How long will you hold your position
As long as my Goddess sees fit...Ma'am
Good boy
His breath is slow, deliberate, and heavy
The heat of it permeates the thin fabric
She runs her hand over the object of desire
Accentuating the outlines of what lies beneath
An accidental whimper
A gruff command
Followed implicitly
In a slow and graceful motion
A hand slips under the fabric
Opening her flower releasing a hint of nectar
The scent grows exponentially upon the unfurling of petals
A glistening finger touches him just above his lip
Is that what you want?
It's a rhetorical question
Yes please
What will you do to get it
Such a simple question with but one answer
Anything you please, Goddess
Stick out your tongue
He does so in silence, careful that he does not touch her
She uses his wet flesh to wipe her finger clean
Closer she whispers
Now, within a half inch he breathes her in deeply
Mesmerized by the dewy goodness held behind the smooth satin
Watching desire grow in painfully slow motion
He blows out on the growing dampness
As he waits for her next command
Nothing turns this angel down
Excellence, in the flesh
And if they try, an evening gown
In satin works the best

Is beauty deeper than the skin?
Surely she'll impress
Instead of showing what's within
She forces you to guess

Eyes of gold been tarnished brown
By tears that have been wept
Dark and shining locks abound
Make up for shades not kept

Sin runs red in times of blue
Every angel's seen
Temptation's there to carry you
When you have lost your wings

Consider but the outside shell
For that is most well-known
Appearing to be straight from hell
To garnish feelings shown

How could she be so mean, you ask?
What makes her be so spiteful?
Why can't she see it's not a mask
That makes her feel delightful?

Lies frozen, held through time
In silent desperation
Hiding at the scene of crime
A ****** confrontation

To free the memories from her head
Would unleash such a fear
She'd rather end the night instead
As not to feel him near

Ah, here's the one; the big bad wolf
That's haunted all her dreams
Whom proved too well by wearing wool
All are not as they seem

But I am ****, but skin and fur
And showing her my core
And telling her the parts that hurt
While donning nothing more

He's changed her mind, she's cast astray
But I could be the shepherd
To keep the hungry wolves at bay
As countless dogs endeavored

One light can only shine so much
Before the flame has died
To reignite it just a touch
Of love might satisfy

Surely there is nothing worse
Than feeling left to dry
Entrapped within a lover's curse
And never knowing why

Well, in defense of self-defense
I must admit it's snide
To hang a face upon the fence
Until you've picked a side

It's safe, my friend, just be yourself
Strip down to nothing hidden
And let emotion feed your health
By eating the forbidden

A heart must be coaxed from its hide
With tenderness and passion
In order for the passersby
To notice what has happened

From way out here it's hard to tell
But underneath a soul
That liberates a girl of twelve
Longs for a soul to hold

To hold would mean to carry, too
When harsh times rear their heads
To be the one to follow through
When love needs to be fed

But most of all it means to dress
With confidence or loathing
Just make sure you can impress
A saint in Sinner's clothing
Brain pictures
Ron Peter Jan 2019
sa gabi ito nararamdaman ko
ang lamig kung saan ang katawan ko ay nanginginig
ang gabi na bilang lang
ang natatamaan ng liwanag
ng buwan sa daan

nag lakad ako sa dilim para
magpahangin at mag isip isip ng mga bagay na gumugulo at sumasagi sa utak ko
ito ba mga bituin tinitingala ko
ay totoo bang tinutupad
ang hiling ng mga tao?

o isa lang silang bagay na
palamuti sa itaas ng kalawakan
para maging matingkad
ang mga gabi at mag bigay ng
kislap sa itaas ng kalangitan
para matawag itong maganda

minsan naniwala ako sa kasabihan kapag nakita mo ito
sa kalangitan kung saan
ang pakiramdam mo ay hindi
mo maintindihan.
subukan mo ibulong sa bituin

at pagkatapos sabihin mo
dito ang mga gusto ****
mag bago sa sitwasyon na
naaayon sa kagustuhan mo
at ibibigay at magkakatotoo

sinubukan ko gawin ito ng
mataimtim. sinabi ko na lahat
ng aking hinanakit at sakit
ibinulong ko ito sa mga bituin
na may kasama pang luha
baka sakali sakin ay maawa

hiniling ko na sana ay bumalik ka.
yakapin ako muli at hindi kana aalis pa
hahawakan ang aking kamay
at sasabihin sakin hindi mo
hiniling ko rin na sana sabihin
**** mayroon tayo pa

ilang gabi pa ang mga dumaan
sinubukan ko mag lakad lakad
sa madilim na daan
at mag isip kung saan na ba
napunta ang mga hiniling

kung ito ba'y pagpapalain sakin
o ito ba ay mababaliwala
at mag lalaho lang din ng bula
kasama ng mga hiling ko
kung babalik ka pa ba

napag tanto ko kaya hindi
sinang ayunan ang aking
mga hiling ay parehas tayong
humiling sa bagay na
ginusto na mangyari para satin

ikaw na gusto **** bumalik sya
at mahalin ka ulit
ikaw na pinapangarap sya
ikaw na sana hindi na ulit kayo
maghihiwalay pa

at ako na umaasa babalik kapa
ako na nag hihintay at umaasa
ako na humihiling pa ng
pangalawang pagkatataon
para mahalin.
ako na sana ay piliin mo rin.

nabaliwala ang lahat ng hiniling para sa ating dalawa.
naisip ko na hindi naman
natin kailangan ang mga bituin
na to para hilingin ng mga bagay
na gusto natin

dahil tayo ang mga bituin
sumabog sa kalangitan pagkatapos ng ating mga hiling
para sa atin ay magpapasaya

tayo ang mga bituin tutupad
sa gusto natin mabago ang lahat
tayo ang mga bituin noon ay
nag ningning at nag sama
pero mali ang tinalikdang daan

tayo ang mga nawalang
bituin sa kalangitan at pinag
tagpo ng kapalaran at
pagkakataon para hilingin
sa bawat isa pero iba ang gustong makasama.

tayo ang mga bituin na yon
tayo ang mga bituin nag ningning noon
tayo yon
tayo ang bituin na yon.
Take a soft tipped brush
Dip, and trace my nakedness;
Viscous dripping rainbow streams
Clothe me here within our dreams.
Swirl my curves
With satin pink,
Let your brush flutter and sink
lower, purples, red and blue,
I'm a canvas here for you.
Paint me scarlet, paint me gold,
Paint some words
italic, bold
Stop when you begin to weep
A masterpiece, for us to keep.
An old one of mine, a favourite.
No one Sep 2017
First he demanded I force him on the bed.
He said don’t dare relent till he’s fully spent.
So I start by removing all of his clothes,
kiss and bite him all over, so very slow.

Then he makes me bind both his hands tight,
orders a satin scarf to blind his eyes.
Next I gently bite his neck on both sides,
stirred on even more by his ****** cries.

My tongue wants to lick him just where he likes,
he trembles and shakes as I lick him up right.
He’s hard and tasty, I tease him till I’m sore;
**** and stop, he can’t take it, and begs for more.  

My mouth is so warm, he’s slippery wet.
I take it, and smother my throat in the mess;
and after he’s been pushed so close to the edge,
he rapidly pounds my mouth till the end.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Are we all here
Or elsewhere
Treetops Robin birds
What!! Is it only words?
The sky she wore the
blue velvet cry
Whats still here what
will life bring
Afterlife sing before I die?


Headless horseman goodbye
Breadwinner Sportsman
Your worst enemy
The closer he gets knowing
your drama/ Cowboy-comedy

"Whats Here"

The Emmy meeting
another writer
The Dude Ranch
Meet the "Ghostwriter"
The computer
early bird
Specially rude

The Medieval time of the
"Fable" sword fight
In a fork road, he was
born *English Sterling
The Silver anniversary
Dude piece boring
Whats here setting Ms.Dahla
Sweet Magnolia flowers
He's aiming for Azelia
What dudes grow
in her family
I'm here and he said
I'm the Dude

We are here Paul Revere rides
Breaks our glassware
Mr. Bigfoot needs to decide

Those Philly steaks "Heinz Ketchup"
Pittsburg tip of the iceberg here-up
Feeling sorry for the "Dude"

I'm right beside you here
Racers mouth racetrack win
More supernatural forces of sin
Rayban Mr. Sun-Ray glare
This was all I could take
in one day
It's important so let's stay
in one place
Where we can see one another
All dudes what eludes in character's

The false eyelashes her
prediction Alice madly
Tea party detention

Dancing in the
spiritual rain
She is the biggest pain

What cheeks swear
with her pinky
The blow dryer the
Big Lebowski stayer
Russian Roulette
Crystal fighter Swarovski
Homewrecker traveler
The dude investigation
*Risky business Dudes in the mansions

Rome cannot be built in one day
What's here your *Mom
baking noodle pudding today
You are laughing and both got
Brooklyn fever
Divine hour telling her how
much you love her
Familiar eyes hot dudes
The best flight activity
Getting you up
Your NativityI'm the dude cup

Always wondering you drift
Whose coming to dinner
*Mystery is it really here
        The Dude of a gift
Happy tears New Years

White Polar Bears

Days of daydreams dude stamps
All tolls and Polls
Twitter and Trumps
Or coming closer to
your darkest night
Forever wherever you are
It's the dark velvet satin

Night in White Satin
The other side of midnight
Humans animals always
the mating watcher's delight

Paper cuts of a paperweight
Feeling like a deadweight dude
The lightheaded most amazing night sky
The bright future warm you up
passionate guy

Whats here names
Don't use me usernames
Such con names, married names
Where each other's equal
Whats here love the sequel
The proud mother
My Bald Eagle

Hairy fluffy so cute beagle
He's the Quarter she backs up his note
The pushover Politician we deserve the vote

Writers believers lovers
and givers
Strangers are friends whats here
all depends
Getting mugged in Central Park
Grainy sugar you spark
Enjoying what I have today

The softer Rainy Lover
Whats here we are all here
Not elsewhere or over there
My Godly switch I'm here
Whats here you or me or who we believe to see let it be let it be
There are so many answers and those questions are here so reach don't start to preach show your love its whats here
judy smith Apr 2015
The Pakistan Fashion Design Council in collaboration with Sunsilk presented the fourth and final day of the eighth PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week. Indeed the 8th PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week marked the twelfth fashion week platform initiated by the Pakistan Fashion Design Council [with eight weeks of prêt-à-porter and four of bridal fashion] and was a direct manifestation of the Council’s commitment to sustainability and discipline within the business of fashion and the facilitation of Pakistan’s retail industry. Indeed #PSFW15 endeavoured to define and present trends for 2015, focusing specifically on fashion for the regions’ long hot summer months. Day-4 featured High-Street Fashion shows by the House of Arsalan Iqbal, Erum Khan, Chinyere and Hassan Riaz and designer prêt-à-porter shows by Sana Safinaz, Republic by Omar Farooq, Syeda Amera, Huma & Amir Adnan, Sania Maskatiya and HSY.

Speaking about the PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week platform, Chairperson of the PFDC, Sehyr Saigol said: “With the 12th iteration of our critically acclaimed fashion weeks, the PFDC is always working to streamline our prêt-à-porter platform to make the PSFW experience more beneficial for all stakeholders in terms of show experience, exposure and ultimately, retail value. To that end, each year we look inward to find the best possible formats and categories to benefit the very trade and business of fashion. In this vein, we introduced 3 separate categories for Luxury/Prêt, High Street and Textile at PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week, giving each entirely separate show space, times, audience exposure and viewing power. Our High Street fashion brands had been given a standalone show time on two separate days as early evening shows and Textile brands a separate dedicated day for Voile shows on Day 3 of PSFW 2015, a measured step to further highlight Pakistan’s textile prowess and high street fashion strength which are of significant importance to national and international fashion markets. As per past tradition, we continue to work closely with all our emerging designers and mainstream brands to help hone their collections for the runway through mentorship by senior PFDC Council members and with retail support through the PFDC’s own stores and network. We are grateful for the committed support of our sponsors and partners which provides us the stimulus to further enhance our fashion week platforms and put forth the best face of Pakistani fashion on a consistent basis.”

“The Sunsilk girl is an achiever, with an air of enthusiasm and positivity. Great hair can give her the extra dose of confidence so with Sunsilk by her side, she is empowered to take on life. Fashion is very close to this aspirational Pakistani girl making the PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week a highly valued platform for us. We recognize PFDC’s efforts to promote the fashion industry and experienced and upcoming talent alike. Sunsilk has been a part of this fantastic journey for 6 consecutive years and continues to shape aspirations, taking contemporary fashion directly to the homes of consumers and encouraging them to script their own stories of success” said Asanga Ranasinghe, VP Home and Personal Care for Unilever Pakistan.

On the concluding day of #PSFW15, the Chairperson of the PFDC Mrs. Sehyr Saigol also made a special announcement on behalf of the Council and its Board Members, where she shared the Council’s plans to establish Pakistan’s first ever craft based Design District, a multi-purpose specialized facility that would assist in developing and enhancing the arts and crafts industries, which are an integral part of Pakistan’s rich cultural legacy. In addition to being a centre for skill improvement and capacity building, the Design District would also house a first of its kind Textile Museum.

The official spokesperson of the PFDC, Sara Shahid of Sublime by Sara also announced the official dates for the Council’s next fashion week, PFDC L’Oréal Paris Bridal Week 2015 which is scheduled to be held from 15th September to 17th September 2015.

Indeed the success of PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week continued to prompt private sector associates to grow in their engagement of the platform to launch new marketing campaigns and promotional activities. To this end, the PFDC’s evolving partnership with Sunsilk grew exponentially this year whereby in addition to their title patronage; Sunsilk also took over the coveted PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week red carpet and the Green Room/Backstage, as sponsors. This extension of their support is indeed a manifestation of the brand’s belief in and commitment to the platform. Also in continuation of their support for the platform, Fed Ex – GSP Pakistan Gerry’s International returned to PSFW as the official logistics partner, offering the PFDC a special arrangement for international designer consignments.

PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015 was styled by the creative teams at Nabila’s and NGENTS. Light design, set design, sound engineering, video packaging, choreography and show production from concept to construction was by HSY Events, front stage management by Maheen Kardar Ali, backstage management by Product 021, Sara Shahid of Sublime by Sara as the official spokesperson for the PFDC, logistics and operations by Eleventh Experience and photography by Faisal Farooqui and the team at Dragonfly, Hum TV/Hum Sitaray as the Official Media Partners, CityFM89 as the Official Radio Partners with all media management by Lotus Client Management & Public Relations.

High-Street Fashion Shows

The House of Arsalan Iqbal

The afternoon High-Street Fashion Shows on the final day of PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015 were opened by leading fashion brand The House of Arsalan Iqbal, who showcased a collection titled ‘Devolution Chic’. Inspired by street art across the world by various artists, European high-street trends and technique of quilting, Arsalan Iqbal garnered personal portfolios of graffitists from myriad urban cityscapes such as London, New York, Tokyo, Barcelona and Cape Town, juxtaposed with some unique in-house created patterns including those of Pac-man, calligraphic flourishes and aqua and tangerine bands and circlets. Based in chiffon, the ensembles were molded into voluminous structured silhouettes including draped tunics, edgy jumpsuits and wide palazzos dovetailed with off-white and ecru charmeuse silk jackets created with a revolutionary quilting process. Along with menswear pieces, the collection also included in-house footwear and jewellery made in collaboration with pioneering Karachi-based street artist SANKI.

Erum Khan

Designer Erum Khan followed next and made her PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week debut with ‘The Untainted Shine’. The collection took its inspiration from the sparkle of twinkling stars, a walk on pearl dew in the morning and the enchanted glow which is produced when “a magic wand” is waved around the body, making it glow in a pearlescent white and exhibiting a jewel themed lustre on the body. With neat and straight structured cuts, Erum had used fabrics such as organza combined with silk, 3D flowers, patch work and antique katdanna in a collection which was based in a white colour palette. Trends highlighted in the collection were high waist skirts to button up pants and sheer long dresses. Acclaimed Pakistani musician Goher Mumtaz and his wife Anam Ahmed walked the ramp as the designer’s celebrity showstoppers.


Following Erum Khan, fashion brand Chinyere showcased its Spring/Summer 2015 High-Street collection ‘Mizaj-e-Shahana’ at PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015. An ode to the era of the Mughal royalty and their imperial aesthetic, the collection comprised of modern silhouettes and traditional embellishments with organza skirts paired with cropped tops, angarkha-peplum tops with embellished cigarette pants, sheer knee-length jackets paired with structured digital printed bustier-jumpsuits, diaphanous wrap-around boot-cuts and embellished boxy sleeves with soft A-line silhouettes. Chinyere also showcased ten menswear pieces comprising of waistcoats, jodhpurs, knee-length sherwanis paired with gossamer sheer kurtas. The colours used had been divided into a collection of distinctive Mughalesque pastels and jewel tones. The pastels included the classic marble ivory-on-ivory, the bold black, saffron, gold and ivory. The colour segments also included metallic gold and grey sections, with accents of bronze and black. The jewel tones included jade, emerald, ruby and sapphire.

Hassan Riaz

The concluding High-Street fashion show of PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015 was presented by Hassan Riaz who showcased his ‘Contained Shadows’ collection. Inspired by the diverse facets of the human soul that explore both the dark and light sides of human nature, taking into account yearnings, desires, and anxieties that make us distinctly human, Hassan had based the collection in summer twill, organza and summer denim in shades of blue and white with a gold accent to reflect upon his inspirations. ‘Contained Shadows’ made use of structured and drifting silhouettes, cage crinolines with corsets and bustiers with distinct trends featuring cropped tops, nautical accents, experiments with transparency and patchworks of metal mixed & matched with flowers.

Designer Showcases

Sana Safinaz

PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015’s evening [rêt shows on the fourth and final day was opened by premier designer label Sana Safinaz. Sana Safinaz’s PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week collection was inspired by monochromatic structured looks with pops of color. The collection was based in luxe fabrics such as kattan, silks, fine silk organza and dutches satin in a colour palette majorly based in black and white with strong vibrant pop infusions.
Key trends being highlighted were the oversized T, constructions-clean lines, simplicity of cuts and effective embellishments.

Republic by Omar Farooq

Following Sana Safinaz, acclaimed menswear brand Republic By Omar Farooqshowcased a collection titled ‘Que Sera, Sera!’ (whatever will be, will be!). Omar Farooq had used a variety of luxe fabrics such as suede, linen, chiffon, cotton, cotton silk and wool silk. A collection for all seasons, the ensembles built upon the label’s signature aesthetics while providing a new take on contemporary menswear. Acclaimed media personality Fawad Khan walked the ramp as the brand’s celebrity showstopper.

Syeda Amera

The third Prêt show of the final day of PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015 was presented by designer Syeda Amera who made her ramp debut with ‘The World of Sea’. Inspired by love for the enchanting underwater, the collection was based in premium quality organza, jersey, nets and silks with delicate cuts and embellishments consisting of beads, sequins and feathers to reflect the collection’s aquatic theme. ‘The World of Sea’ featured a palette of aqua marine, scupa blue, powder pink, grey blue, tequila sunrise yellow, orange and lagoon green with trends that employed skirt layering, frills and ruffles and flared pants.

Huma & Amir Adnan

Following Syeda Amera, Huma & Amir Adnan showcased a joint collection for the first time at a fashion exhibition. Both Huma and Amir feel that as a couple they share their lives and draw synergies and their collection ‘Symphony’ was an epitome of how two people can revolve around the same concept in harmony, while maintaining their individual distinction. Showcasing both menswear and women’s wear at PSFW 2015, Huma and Amir had used a mix of fabrics, textures and embellishments with a complex collection of weaves, prints and embroideries in silk, linen, cotton and microfiber. The color palette included midnight blue, emerald green, wet earth, aubergine, ivory, old paper, turmeric, leaf and magenta. Key trends highlighted in the collection were long shirts, double layered shirts, printed vests and jackets, textured pants, colored shoes for men and layers of multi-textured fabrics, tighter silhouette, vests and jackets for women.

Sania Maskatiya

Designer Sania Maskatiya showcased the penultimate Luxury/Prêt collection of the evening at PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week 2015. This S/S ’15, Sania Maskatiya took audiences on a fashion journey to ‘Paristan’ – a place of fairytale whimsy at PFDC Sunsilk Fashion Week. With a colour palette ranging from the softest shades of daybreak to the deepest hues of nightfall, ‘Paristan’ was a collection of playful, dreamlike prêt ensembles. Featuring luxury fabrics like silk, organza, charmeuse and crepe, the pieces followed the brand’s signature silhouettes, both structured and fluid. Beads and sequins embellished varied hemlines and multiple layering, all set against captivating scenes of mirth and magic. Motifs ranged from the sublime to nonsensical; friendly mice and naughty elves, clocks and teapots, flowering fields and star-filled skies, princesses and ponies.


Day-4’s finale was presented by acclaimed couturier HSY who showcased a collection titled ‘INK’; a collection inspired by Asia and specifically HSY’s journeys to The Land of the Rising Sun. INK represented the essence of Langkawi, Indonesia, Nagasaki, and Yunnan with natural and indigenous yarns, hand-woven to perfection. The collection featured the traditional dyeing techniques of Shibori from Nagasaki, Batik from Indonesia, and Gara from Sierra Leone infused with mackintosh, saffron, aubergine, eggshell, rosette, indigo and ochre. Created with the scorching sub continental summer in mind, INK channelled versatile hemlines to suit a diversity of younger, older, working men, women and homemakers alike.Read more |
CGB Jun 2015
all she ever was, was a satin soul
she hoped that, one day, he'd make her whole
before she was singed by the burning coal
before she completely lost control

her fabric wasn't ever truly real
it was only soft to touch and to feel
she only wanted the silk's smooth appeal
her forgery she was forced to conceal

she stuck with satin, closed within her walls
but always wondered what was down the hall
still there she sits, that little satin doll
and she will always be afraid to fall
Ozioma Ogbaji Apr 2015
Today I feel light and free
As my hair is caressed by the breeze
Bright, beautiful, magical
Today has promised and will fulfil

Today, I rise in glory
Like a Phoenix reborn from ashes
Beautifully clothed in red satin sashes
Glorious like Pegasus on Mount Olympus

Today I rise, I soar in splendour
As the day keeps unveiling all her grandeur
Let the chains of yesterday break away!
Today is here, I will not cling to yesterday!
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2014
Wet welling from earth
Deep valleys, hills, sweating *******
I plung into her

We are lost at sea
In moonless night our soft cries
Curled waves drowning us

Above her in bed
Little breaths lifting our bodies
Eyes, fingers, dreaming

Her green eyes are set
Jewels from sargasso seas
My ghost ship is wrecked

Her long hair tangles
No struggle in rising— then
We are rapt in bed

Her eyes blinding me
Milky way of her body
There is a heaven

In forest we taste
Each other in evergreens
Hot dews on the moss

Blissful time kissing
My bare thighs sink into hers
Running sands so quick

As olive or grape
So shed, paired souls are threshed
Out of their bodies

Hummingbirds share truths
Nature sounds with all sweetness
Bee in the flower

Always in a field
Wild flowers— a bunch to pick
Herself a bouquet

In the park we walk
Flocks of white birds taking flight
Two hearts light as air

We kissed under moon
Pox of stars grew flowering
Nightshade of her lips

She took me to bed
Skinned in bliss— was reborn, lost
In her satin folds
Styles Jan 2018
Her sweet nectar, drips from her
succulent lips, soaking her
satin's ripe with lust
her fragrance,
her presence
enticing his essence
persistently the urges persist

— The End —