The Catwalk
If you have come to the catwalk
Tell me about the fragility
You need not hesitate to say
Among indecision there is still a hope
This morning I walked alone
Crossing the deserted lake
Among the old pine trees
Missed on the catwalk
I want to linger on the way
Drowning in a dream
Hidden in the bushes
(2012)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Up On The Catwalk
Up on the catwalk, a big wheel is spinning
And dollars to deutchmarks, and pennies from heaven
And up on the catwalk, theres one hundred million
With letters from thousands that say ''just who are you?
Theres one thousand names that can spring up in my mind
But youd call it blackmail and thats just not my kind
And up on the catwalk, up on the catwalk
And I dont know why
I will be there, I will be there, I will be there
I will be there, I will be there
Up on the catwalk theres street politicians
That crawl in from broadway, say then who are you
And up on the catwalk theres one thousand postcards
From montevideo, say that Ill be home soon
Get out of bombay and go up to brixton and look around, to see just what is missing
And up on the catwalk, girls call for mother and dream of their boyfriends
And I dont know why
I will be there, I will be there, I will be there
I will be there, I will be there
Tonight, under the crystal light, Ill tell you everything I need
Tonight, under the crystal light, surrender everything to me
Up on the catwalk, and you dress in waistcoats
And got brilliantino, and friends of kim philby
You float through the night time, like manna from heaven
But what, what do I know, and just what do I know
And up on the catwalk, in sweat that glistens
And I dont know why and I dont know why
I dont know why
I will be there, I will be there, I will be there
I will be there, I will be there
Tonight, under the crystal light, Ill tell you everything I need
Tonight, under the crystal light, surrender everything to me
Angel angel angel angel
Ah huh ah huh ah huh ah huh
One thousand names that spring up in my mind
One thousand names that spring up in my mind
Like deodata, michaelangelo, robert de niro, so many others
Natasia kinski and martin luther - theres room for others, away from me
Up on the catwalk, up on the catwalk, up on the catwalk
I dont know why.
Words & music : james kerr, charlie burchill, mel gaynor, derek forbes, michael macneil (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Too Sexy
I'm too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me
I'm too sexy for my shirt too sexy for my shirt
So sexy it hurts
And i'm too sexy for milan too sexy for milan
New york and japan
And i'm too sexy for your party
Too sexy for your party
No way i'm disco dancing
I'm a model you know what i mean
And i do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I do my little turn on the catwalk
I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car
Too sexy by far
And i'm too sexy for my hat
Too sexy for my hat what do you think about that
I'm a model you know what i mean
And i do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little touche on the catwalk
I'm too sexy for my too sexy for my too sexy for my
cos i'm a model you know what i mean
And i do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk yeah on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little touche on the catwalk
I'm too sexy for my cat too sexy for my cat
Poor pussy poor pussy cat
I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me
And i'm too sexy for this song
song performed by by Right Said Fred
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just look at all the awards shows now. It has turned into a catwalk. You have to be wearing a certain designer, a certain dress, and everyone's critiquing.
quote by Portia de Rossi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Soul Dies
Sky overcast, moon was sad.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Who killed the bird in morning rain?
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A hidden slaughterman did not die.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
The good old name now spells the doom.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
I will call you in pitch-dark night.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Ascending gods have ruined my life.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A child was stolen from a mother’s bed.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
poem by Satish Verma
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Try Love
try love and see for yourself
the dark sky used to be
without a blink
is now dotted with a thousand stars
the moon walks
like a model on a catwalk
of glistening clouds
as i watch
my hands couldn't help
but clap
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Is Hope Of
A word perhaps to me is hope
and hope you used to use a lot.
Without perhaps it being hope for naught.
A lot of hope about the things you are,
and you are all the things I hoped about.
You of hope at night the moon the light I write about.
And you write about the thoughts of hope,
and make them come to pass and write of that.
Ardently your mouth of hope, not going over there.
You who are without to be and I am crossing over.
Green bushes hold within my hope, blue open flowers.
Afterwards through fog or loam a stream flows slowly after.
I saw so bright the torch of hope from here to there beside us.
So there are we.
And are we there, for loving it sits about us.
Me I simply am, you and I, comes hope a certain thing.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Need of father
It is news
That Linda Evangelista,
The forty one year old Canadian
Catwalk queen has given birth
To a boy and refused to reveal
Who the father of the child is.
Identity of father is redundant.
15.10.06
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Camel's Dream
When he deserted me
I deserted water
When I deserted the water,
it lost its shine crying.
Trees were growing dark in their places
in the woods; that evening he came to take me
with him clearing the thick glow of the sunset hues
then came he to make a path a kind of road
At the end of the road
I became the back he can ride
deserting many things I so long have to long for
while I look at the village
through those green trees
with my deep eyes
I saw him waiving at me
to bid me goodbye.
I was already entering the desert
and a portion of his road became the whole
the entire road for me.
For the borders of the nation he ruled
were the horizons of the four directions,
the sand hills I walk on with him on my back
were always the initial spot I had departed.
Numerous mornings and evenings met
on the rooftops of the sandhills where the
next morning and the sun crossed.
Originally what he wanted from me
was some amount of water he could use,
always in the shape of the water
I obeyed him.
At the same speed as the sunlight speedy
falls on the ground, stars fell.
With the power of the star-falls
the water soaked itself down to the ground
and then to
the roots of the sands.
Whenever his forehead shined
with full of heavenly words
and thirstied,
I dug up the roots of the sands
where the water gathers and kept it
in my body.
When the sun rose,
everything except the sands were
under the power of the sun;
when the wind blew,
everything along with the sands were
under the windy flows.
There I took out the water from my body
and washed his dry face.
When he loved me
I had a large amount of waters.
When he was communicating with someone
in heavens,
I listened to the music the sands were making.
Many trees were there with no shadows,
and the worlds I look through those trees were
always moving forward.
Through those trees the wind blew.
The thicket-bushes were weeping
and there came about some animals
who loved the bushes, and the one
who rides on my back
lets things to be ruled ruled
lets things to die dead.
He stands the trees and the animals
that resemble each other on their spots
then he passes by.
In the mean time he took out the water
from my body numerous times
and drank it to cleanse his body.
His songs made the sand hills
create echoes to echo
to ring through the regions afar.
When he finally changed the desert into the sea,
at its open entrance
I began to grow old all alone.
Though I wanted to serve him on the sea
he walked away from me
onto the sea.
Many years have gone by
and come along and
for me not to serve him on the sea
meant to go back to the desert, and
the sea had turned into the desert back again.
At its entrance to the sea,
I could not become a small boat for him.
All day long, I was lonely;
all night long, lonesome for days.
When he left me, I deserted the water,
I deserted again the act of deserting
and by deserting it, I no longer was left
to exist.
poem by by unknown author (22 June 2003), translated by Sangnam Nam
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Chisinau (Life poem)
Slendiforous girls in their sexy summer clothes,
Their stilettos strutter on the sticky hot streets,
Knowing you are distractible by catwalk curves,
The streets a clutteration of Volgas and Volvos.
Breakfast harpist plays muzak in the morning,
Makes my ham and eggs strangely indigestible,
And lobby designer shops jarringly bankrupt,
Tartan uniforms match carpet in the "Irish" bar.
Just another comfortabulous hotel home, again
poem by Ian Beckett
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Au Jardin
O you away high there,
you that lean
From amber lattices upon the cobalt night,
I am below amid the pine trees,
Amid the little pine trees, hear me!
'The jester walked in the garden.'
Did he so?
Well, there's no use your loving me
That way, Lady;
For I've nothing but songs to give you.
I am set wide upon the world's ways
To say that life is, some way, a gay thing,
But you never string two days upon one wire
But there'll come sorrow of it.
And I loved a love once,
Over beyond the moon there,
I loved a love once,
And, may be, more times,
But she danced like a pink moth in the shrubbery.
Oh, I know you women from the 'other folk',
And it'll all come right,
O' Sundays.
'The jester walked in the garden.'
Did he so?
poem by Ezra Pound
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Still Summer Melodies
What a glorious morning!
The sun's brightly shining
The trees we see from the window-sill
Don't move, they stand still.
A nice yellow kitten
Amidst the trees hidden
Watches vigilant a swallow
He'd like to follow...
Green bushes well-trimmed
Freshly watered they seemed
To spread their fragrance
We breathe around the space.
From that wooden flute
No longer mute...
A sweet melody can be heard
Enchanting us and every bird.
September,2011
poem by Maria C. Costa
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On manoeuvres
The nature of love is dazed, unknown
like a advance into enemy territory,
behind enemy lines
where you skirmish, reconnoitre the terrain
move from thicket to thicket,
leopard crawl, catwalk
through stretches of open ground
taking the risk, always at the ready
and in the enemy’s midst
loiter in a dense bush
while watching like a hawk, relaxed
and half stupefied at the relative safety
smelling the cigars of the passing guards,
hearing them talking and walking around
without even knowing that you are there
and in the darkness to crawl back, walk miles
crossing streams and rivers
to the safety of your own camp
and in the following detail
to return to the same enemy positions,
you find the way easier, more well known.
[Reference: Map Reference by Douglas Livingstone.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Wedding Day
Today you'll pick up all the pieces
And get on with your life
All I can hope is that you're happy
'Cause today you're someone elses wife
Right now I wish that I could turn back
And beg the hands of time
For the days that I remember (oh baby)
The days when you were mine
And if I never said I love you
It's cause the words got in the way
Now all I do is say I'm sorry
Sorry I missed your wedding day
I'll bet you looked good at the altar
I'll bet he knew the words to say
And the angels smiled when you walked down the aisle
You both knelt down to pray
As he put his ring on your finger
I know there's just one thing left to say
All I can do is say I'm sorry
Sorry I missed your wedding day
So Sorry
(solo)
You won't be walking through the door anymore
You won't be sleeping in this bed anymore
Tho' I swear I see your shadow waltz accross my floor
And I don't know if I can take it
Should we ever meet again
Cause I know that we'll be strangers
When he introduces friends
I tried to make it to the church now baby
A broken heart got in the way
All I can do is tell you I'm sorry
Sorry I missed your wedding day
I really hope you're happy baby
Tho' it's killing me to say
All I can do is say I'm sorry
Sorry I missed you're wedding day
Sorry I missed you're wedding
I'm sorry I missed you're wedding day
I'm sorry I missed you're wedding day
I'm sorry I missed you're wedding day
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crossing The Border
Hey, take it and run, child
Ill ask you no questions
We traded our fortunes
Crossing the border
I hope you got lucky
You needed a change
I--i made it without you
Crossing the border
We were like a couple of wetbacks running
Standin on the banks of some dangerous river
Lookin into a brave new country
Risky business
Crossing the border
Ahhh, you--you doubled my chances
I--i sure do want your freedom
I--Ill never forget you
Crossing the border
Back when we were out there
Crossing the border
Layin it on the line
Crossing the border
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The veldt is all around me
The veldt is all around me
and I am beyond enemy lines
camouflaged, clothed in
military uniform, wearing tracking boots,
with the soles almost like
running shoes,
with a weapon in my hands
viewing, taking reconnaissance
of enemy soldiers, driving by
on pickups, in cars without roofs
in trucks waving guns
in the air and sometimes
firing as they pass by
and suddenly a young boy
is beside me
clothed in a blue short sleeved shirt
and grey short pants
looking like school uniform
but being too young for school
and walking barefoot
right next to me.
Wherever I run from bush to bush,
catwalk, leopard crawl
and hide behind bushes
getting nearer to enemy positions
he stays at my side like a shadow
running, walking and standing openly
and it annoys me
and that he keeps talking to me
as he can draw attention to us
and I say:
“Gerrie, come and lie down.
Hide behind this bushes. Stop talking.
You will draw the enemy to us.”
Unconcerned like walking in the veldt
in my young days, and being ignored
by the natives passing by
the boy looks at me
shaking his head and asks:
“Why are the enemy shooting in the air
while they drive past?
Why do they sometimes
rob their own people? ”
Realizing that it’s my own thoughts
and I look at the child again
and see my younger self
with childish innocence
accompanying me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Maximus
Beautiful Samosir Island,
Splash and swim in the lake of love with me;
For i am Maximus with a temperate paradise,
And like Sipisppiso Waterfalls in the name of love.
Palm trees and pine trees flourish side by side around you,
But take me to Lake Toba's spectacular scenery and idyllic climate!
For your beautiful Island had really satisfied my muse and,
Of the truth to know more about you in the valley of your peace!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Royal tiger of India
Stressful chattering of birds,
monkeys jumping from one branch to another.,
fluttering wings of birds,
running around of animals,
a sudden unrest in the jungle,
the news spread like forest fire,
there comes the majestic
yellow and black striped beast,
walked slowly on the dried leaves,
the best catwalk if one could luckily see,
the bold and the beautiful,
its the tiger on the scene,
the Royal tiger of India indeed,
unruffeld by noise around.,
unquestionable the king of jungle,
the wildest cat on earth,
unsocial solitary beast,
make every soul to fear for life,
be it a bird, animal, man or a beast.
poem by renu Vig sharma sharma
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Harajuku Girls
Wa-mono
There's me, there's you (hoko-ten)
In a pedestrian paradise
Where the catwalk got its claws (meow)
A subculture, in a kaleidoscope of fashion
Prowl the streets of Harajuku (irasshaimase)
Super lovers, tell me where you got yours
(At the super lovers store)
Yochi Yamamoto
I'm hanging with the locals
Where the catwalk got its claws
All you fashion know-it-alls
With your underground malls
In the world of Harajuku
Putting on a show, when you dress up in your clothes
Wild hair color and cell phones
Your accessories are dead on
[chorus 2x]
Harajuku girls, you got the wicked style
I like the way that you are
I am your biggest fan, oh
Harajuku girls
I'm looking at you girls
You're so original girls
You got the look that makes you stand out
Juku girls, I'm looking at you girls
You mix and match it girls
You dress so fly and just parade around (arigato)
I'm fascinated by the Japanese fashion scene
Just an American girl in the Tokyo streets
My boyfriend bought me a Hysteric Glamour shirt
They're hard to find in the States, got me feeling couture
What's that you got on
Is it Comme Des Garcons
A Vivienne Westwood can't go wrong
Mixed up with second-hand clothes
(Let's not forget about John Galliano, no)
Flip the landscape when Nigo made A Bathing Ape
I've got expensive taste (oh well)
Guess I'm better save up (cho takai)
[chorus 2x]
Work it, express it
Live it, command your style
Create it, design it
Now let me see you work it [repeat]
You bring style and color all around the world (you harajuku girls)
You bring style and color all around the world (you harajuku girls)
Your look is so distinctive, like DNA
Like nothing I've ever seen in the USA
Your underground culture, visual grammar
The language of your clothing, is something to encounter
A ping-pong match between eastern and western
Did you see your inspiration in my latest collection
Just wait til you get your little hands on L.A.M.B.
Cause it's (super kawaii), that means (super cute in Japanese)
The streets of Harajuku are your catwalk
Bishoujo, you're so vogue
That's what you drop
Cho saikou, Harajuku girls
(And that's what you drop, and that's what you drop)
Cho saikou, Harajuku girls
Harajuku girls [chorus in background]
Harajuku girls
Style detached from content
A fatal attraction to cuteness
Style is style
Fashion is fashion
Girl, you got style
song performed by by Gwen Stefani
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teacher (Life Poem)
She gazes down on a daily sea,
Of expectant lesson hungry faces,
The teacher uses a carrot not a stick,
To prove these cast-off kids stomachs,
Will love them when they cook creatively.
Vogue-like poet on the catwalk of life,
She sees life in little things each day.
Weekend dates in the big smoke,
Will blue suit and red shoes work,
With him again, again tonight?
poem by Ian Beckett
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I Guess
I guess that's it, huh?
no more wearing
the wife's new clothes,
Don said sadly,
no more trying on
those dresses she gets
from that shop
on the high street,
no more pulling on
those panties and tights
when she's out
with her friends at nights.
I guess that's it,
no more dressing up
in her bikini
and doing the catwalk
along the hall
to the stares
of cat and dog,
Don sighed,
gazing at himself
in the mirror,
seeing baby Jojo
staring at him
from the cot;
that's it Jojo,
no more shows,
that's your lot.
poem by Terry Collett
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