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Fashion Poestry Page 2

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