Fashion Poestry, Page 2
Fasean Line
hotchpotch of life itself
lest we fail to notice it
lest we fail to notice its gone
Alice in a fashion wonderland
I see a lot of boots, but I see no horse riding
boots treaded like tires and no one’s going hiking
heels off the ground, so high, reaching for nothing
clicks carry away concentration fading it to nothing
Clothes are shrinking, from knee to thigh high deep
breathe, don’t hold your breath, the dive ain’t deep
I see what I am supposed to imagine, what I imagine
is no longer fantasy but a vivid hodgepodge, imagine!
I am in a world of my own, anything worth a red cent?
everything is nonsense, because nothing is nonsense
nothing’s a sin, everything is scenic after it has been seen
what a scene? Am Alice, am in a fashion wonderland sin
Project runway
Apprentice engineers hover doing last minute smooching
attentioned to detail, every spot and bump needs smoothing
an impatient tower control, always on time, now snoozing
the set is a makeshift, an aircraft carrier without a choosing
the runway runs away into the night marked in bright light
the first craft pulls out, thinned like a fighter jet, lit and light
it does multiple machs, outdoing sound, later maybe light
Houston we have no problem, runway clear, green light
the jet are more artful than air-ready, for the night, no take offs
this is an airshow on the ground, stripped down or taken off
some seem to bounce, like overweight butterflies unable to take off
or one that struggles to avoid a lift off from its flapping wings
The runway taxied more jets than an aircraft carrier lands
please don’t feed the models, please don’t fuel the jets lads
abhor, a shift in the throttle can almost be felt in the sound
However, neither a 747, nor an A380 has made a sound
The science and beauty of fashion
It is randomly random, unpredictable as the weather
It is made up of facts, but even more of the unknown
Assumptions are its face, somethings are not accountable
Yet it remains beautiful even in the face of fashion
Metrics are too primitive to measure whats out there
If we could tell how far it stretches we could rocket fiercely
If we knew its depths we could mount drills with pleasure
Yet without showing too much skin, we can’t help but ogle
It is not definite yet it is not infinite, we see and forget
We cannot tell the beginning or the end, this way up!
Are coming and going, or vice-versa, we can barely decide
Yet we fall in love, especially when we cannot decide
It is abundantly demured, it is a comely mother nature
Without holding back, it explodes, and burns nature
It is defined by laws but it does not abide to any
Yet despite its unfaithfulness, we reach out and caress it
It is has been there from time immemorial, can we tell?
It is the alpha and the omega, the beginning of the end
the end of the beginning if temperatures were to rise
Yet for short lived pleasures we exert extra strain on it
We reminisce of memories we love with wishes
We imagine of worlds unknown, fearfully and excitedly
We are beautifully and wonderfully made, only if we cared to look
Yet believe it or not we look into it when nothing else gives
Red
Under bright and blinky neon lights, in the watch of bouncers
Long queues are formed at places of luxury, fun and some
One cannot tell the dresscode, there doesn’t appear to be some
All in all, all are well dressed, well some are flaunting some
If you were to judge, they’d all look good, well, at least some do
In places like this, more paper changes hands in the night
than in broad daylight, from greasing the doorman to avoid a lineup
to buying the most expensive, and sparkling drinks and cigar line ups
Forget the cloak room, by the time you are tipsy, it flows faster than red
And you start thinking they all look good, at least now most of them do
Check them out, now that your eyes are bold and turning red
They wink at you and mostly look like they are dressed in red
Wink back but you ain’t tipsy enough to follow the red
Out of pity, the waiter drops you more shots of red
They all look good, at least because they are dressed in red
Now that your vision is blurred, images form mostly from imagination
One in a mini appears naked, and you visualize, what a creation
Another on heels, makes you look for tips, what a temptation
One looks at you and smiles, you think she likes you, what a sensation
With more reds, in your brain, even without imagination, they all look good
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, drunks would walk without a stagger
He chats titbits to those who pass by, follow he cannot for he will stagger
Interestingly one walks towards him, red lips, a deceitful smile, and a swagger
She pulls out a red, signals to the waiter, he is caught up in her confident manner
But she looks good, time for reasonable judgement has passed, she looks great
Too many reds, in glasses, around you and on the dance floor,
He makes a toast, it will bring the red closer, the reds give a whim
He wants to play polka with this red, but the reds have played tricks on him
Lights blink red and out and she inches closer, the reds are overwhelming
This close, they look good, they cannot get any redder, they are great
The music dies and the reds stop flowing, the river has dried up
This red looks good, with red eyes, red lips and on red heels
Not much was said, not much inches in between, only red feelings
Hand in hand they make out, a blind leads the other to a world unknown
Since none can think straight, they all look good, a surprise awaits
A fashion passion
You see radiance in me like no one else,
in a sphinx-like manner, you adore us
adding radiance without eking it out
your are abundant of all I need
You and I are acquaintances, more or less
yet, you wear the warmth of my heart
with pride and without holding back
I saw no warmth in no other, thus
I sought warmth from none other
I saw fashion in no other,
you were all the fashion I needed
I am picky, I never chose you, but you did
you cuddled me reaching out to worlds unknown
vividly I reminisce our first time, simple yet enough
I wish that the hands of time punch endlessly
For you, I will go to space, a place only for you,
I will wait to embrace your body
drape gracefully on you, hug you with my heart
and when all gone, I will never let go
The way I am
Somethings just exist for a reason
others just exist without reason
darkness falls on daylight
shadows fall in light
Today, I don’t know reason
I guess its too late to reason
the coming and going of seasons
now slowing down for no reason
If I seems to have lost it
style, preference, class or taste
its not because I do not care
at crossroads I am, seasons seem not to care
A proposal turned down
Behind the blinds, on a young night, hides the brides
Besides, amass of immaculate garments hang aside
Litters of posh makeup line the dresser
Jitters in the overhead lights are lesser
Sitting snugly, the grooms impatiently awaits unhammer’d
Music in the background accompanies a silent murmur
Backstage, the brides’ hearts are beating drums
Lights dimmed, curtain fall, anticipation and excitement hum
Into the aisle the first bride walks tall with a lot of pizzazz
Into a far, her kohl’d eyes focus drawing attention with a buzz
A barrette holds her hair neatly exposing a polished face
Abet-ting her elegance, her fountain dress drapes with grace
Her phlegm holds under the brightly lit ceiling as she poses
In refute of a proposal, a hand akimbo, and another poise
Heels matching her deluxe buckle show off pedicured toes
Her lustrous hair dances as she sashays away without a flaw
One after another, brides walk the aisle, all refuting the groom
Like the first one, they are dressed exquisitely, some to the tooth
Inked, dabbed, and fauxed, the show’s an assorted mixture of peels
Unlike the first one, one with jinx totters away in snugly fitting heels
Organizers and designers, in a shower of confetti, bow without refute
Applauding grooms accept the proposal successfully refute’d
Backstage, the brides celebrate an amassing mess and their refute
Grooms wander into the night in search of a tavern, what a refute
Fashion forsaken
Our word is evil, but the devil is beyond, our eyes are sealed for things that are behold
Our extravagance is beyond measure, our ignorance is beyond leisure
Our obsession of worlds beyond exceeds the concerns of our own
We are at ease in paying respect to our fallen heroes than in chatting out enmity with our foes
Our world is materialistic, possessions overflowing but deep inside we are empty and lacking
We fight wars for humanity but in reality the wars bring disparity
Our pride may just be for now, for we are definite of our fall, in the future
Our selfishness is without a cause, we stir at the slightest stir
Our response is detrimental, without sacrifice, it’s a full scale
lest we fail to notice it
lest we fail to notice its gone
Alice in a fashion wonderland
I see a lot of boots, but I see no horse riding
boots treaded like tires and no one’s going hiking
heels off the ground, so high, reaching for nothing
clicks carry away concentration fading it to nothing
Clothes are shrinking, from knee to thigh high deep
breathe, don’t hold your breath, the dive ain’t deep
I see what I am supposed to imagine, what I imagine
is no longer fantasy but a vivid hodgepodge, imagine!
I am in a world of my own, anything worth a red cent?
everything is nonsense, because nothing is nonsense
nothing’s a sin, everything is scenic after it has been seen
what a scene? Am Alice, am in a fashion wonderland sin
Project runway
Apprentice engineers hover doing last minute smooching
attentioned to detail, every spot and bump needs smoothing
an impatient tower control, always on time, now snoozing
the set is a makeshift, an aircraft carrier without a choosing
the runway runs away into the night marked in bright light
the first craft pulls out, thinned like a fighter jet, lit and light
it does multiple machs, outdoing sound, later maybe light
Houston we have no problem, runway clear, green light
the jet are more artful than air-ready, for the night, no take offs
this is an airshow on the ground, stripped down or taken off
some seem to bounce, like overweight butterflies unable to take off
or one that struggles to avoid a lift off from its flapping wings
The runway taxied more jets than an aircraft carrier lands
please don’t feed the models, please don’t fuel the jets lads
abhor, a shift in the throttle can almost be felt in the sound
However, neither a 747, nor an A380 has made a sound
The science and beauty of fashion
It is randomly random, unpredictable as the weather
It is made up of facts, but even more of the unknown
Assumptions are its face, somethings are not accountable
Yet it remains beautiful even in the face of fashion
Metrics are too primitive to measure whats out there
If we could tell how far it stretches we could rocket fiercely
If we knew its depths we could mount drills with pleasure
Yet without showing too much skin, we can’t help but ogle
It is not definite yet it is not infinite, we see and forget
We cannot tell the beginning or the end, this way up!
Are coming and going, or vice-versa, we can barely decide
Yet we fall in love, especially when we cannot decide
It is abundantly demured, it is a comely mother nature
Without holding back, it explodes, and burns nature
It is defined by laws but it does not abide to any
Yet despite its unfaithfulness, we reach out and caress it
It is has been there from time immemorial, can we tell?
It is the alpha and the omega, the beginning of the end
the end of the beginning if temperatures were to rise
Yet for short lived pleasures we exert extra strain on it
We reminisce of memories we love with wishes
We imagine of worlds unknown, fearfully and excitedly
We are beautifully and wonderfully made, only if we cared to look
Yet believe it or not we look into it when nothing else gives
Red
Under bright and blinky neon lights, in the watch of bouncers
Long queues are formed at places of luxury, fun and some
One cannot tell the dresscode, there doesn’t appear to be some
All in all, all are well dressed, well some are flaunting some
If you were to judge, they’d all look good, well, at least some do
In places like this, more paper changes hands in the night
than in broad daylight, from greasing the doorman to avoid a lineup
to buying the most expensive, and sparkling drinks and cigar line ups
Forget the cloak room, by the time you are tipsy, it flows faster than red
And you start thinking they all look good, at least now most of them do
Check them out, now that your eyes are bold and turning red
They wink at you and mostly look like they are dressed in red
Wink back but you ain’t tipsy enough to follow the red
Out of pity, the waiter drops you more shots of red
They all look good, at least because they are dressed in red
Now that your vision is blurred, images form mostly from imagination
One in a mini appears naked, and you visualize, what a creation
Another on heels, makes you look for tips, what a temptation
One looks at you and smiles, you think she likes you, what a sensation
With more reds, in your brain, even without imagination, they all look good
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, drunks would walk without a stagger
He chats titbits to those who pass by, follow he cannot for he will stagger
Interestingly one walks towards him, red lips, a deceitful smile, and a swagger
She pulls out a red, signals to the waiter, he is caught up in her confident manner
But she looks good, time for reasonable judgement has passed, she looks great
Too many reds, in glasses, around you and on the dance floor,
He makes a toast, it will bring the red closer, the reds give a whim
He wants to play polka with this red, but the reds have played tricks on him
Lights blink red and out and she inches closer, the reds are overwhelming
This close, they look good, they cannot get any redder, they are great
The music dies and the reds stop flowing, the river has dried up
This red looks good, with red eyes, red lips and on red heels
Not much was said, not much inches in between, only red feelings
Hand in hand they make out, a blind leads the other to a world unknown
Since none can think straight, they all look good, a surprise awaits
A fashion passion
You see radiance in me like no one else,
in a sphinx-like manner, you adore us
adding radiance without eking it out
your are abundant of all I need
You and I are acquaintances, more or less
yet, you wear the warmth of my heart
with pride and without holding back
I saw no warmth in no other, thus
I sought warmth from none other
I saw fashion in no other,
you were all the fashion I needed
I am picky, I never chose you, but you did
you cuddled me reaching out to worlds unknown
vividly I reminisce our first time, simple yet enough
I wish that the hands of time punch endlessly
For you, I will go to space, a place only for you,
I will wait to embrace your body
drape gracefully on you, hug you with my heart
and when all gone, I will never let go
The way I am
Somethings just exist for a reason
others just exist without reason
darkness falls on daylight
shadows fall in light
Today, I don’t know reason
I guess its too late to reason
the coming and going of seasons
now slowing down for no reason
If I seems to have lost it
style, preference, class or taste
its not because I do not care
at crossroads I am, seasons seem not to care
A proposal turned down
Behind the blinds, on a young night, hides the brides
Besides, amass of immaculate garments hang aside
Litters of posh makeup line the dresser
Jitters in the overhead lights are lesser
Sitting snugly, the grooms impatiently awaits unhammer’d
Music in the background accompanies a silent murmur
Backstage, the brides’ hearts are beating drums
Lights dimmed, curtain fall, anticipation and excitement hum
Into the aisle the first bride walks tall with a lot of pizzazz
Into a far, her kohl’d eyes focus drawing attention with a buzz
A barrette holds her hair neatly exposing a polished face
Abet-ting her elegance, her fountain dress drapes with grace
Her phlegm holds under the brightly lit ceiling as she poses
In refute of a proposal, a hand akimbo, and another poise
Heels matching her deluxe buckle show off pedicured toes
Her lustrous hair dances as she sashays away without a flaw
One after another, brides walk the aisle, all refuting the groom
Like the first one, they are dressed exquisitely, some to the tooth
Inked, dabbed, and fauxed, the show’s an assorted mixture of peels
Unlike the first one, one with jinx totters away in snugly fitting heels
Organizers and designers, in a shower of confetti, bow without refute
Applauding grooms accept the proposal successfully refute’d
Backstage, the brides celebrate an amassing mess and their refute
Grooms wander into the night in search of a tavern, what a refute
Fashion forsaken
Our word is evil, but the devil is beyond, our eyes are sealed for things that are behold
Our extravagance is beyond measure, our ignorance is beyond leisure
Our obsession of worlds beyond exceeds the concerns of our own
We are at ease in paying respect to our fallen heroes than in chatting out enmity with our foes
Our world is materialistic, possessions overflowing but deep inside we are empty and lacking
We fight wars for humanity but in reality the wars bring disparity
Our pride may just be for now, for we are definite of our fall, in the future
Our selfishness is without a cause, we stir at the slightest stir
Our response is detrimental, without sacrifice, it’s a full scale
