Best Denim Poems

Sure, I own a denim jacket
And, of course, a bunch of jeans.
All my closets have held denim
Since the time I hit my teens.

Back in high school and in college
There was little else to wear;
Maybe corduroy or khaki’d
Show up on my derriere.

Though my wardrobe’s now more...

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She held on to her blue jeans
From our younger, college days
With peace signs painted on each back pocket
And that worn-almost-every-day fade

But thirty years and four grown kids
Changed her girlish shape
Still those jeans hung in our closet
In a most prominent place

She dreamt of one day wearing...

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Awe but man! She is a looker!
Don’t know if she’s someone’s honey,
Or a chargin’ hooker.

She’s struttin’ her stuff down town in her Lees,
jeans so tight, 
they’ve locked her knees..

Must be wearin’ all that makeup just to hide the pain,
a price she pays for the attention...

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loose threads, holes and worn spots
faded naturally
his story told in these old genes
left unworn for so long
beloved denim lives on
hidden beneath the casket lid


11/11/2017

KNIT YOUR FABRIC - Poetry Contest 
Nette Onclaud...

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(Nay Say No. 4)


Standing or slouching
He is so fly -- when
buttoned and stretched ~
Oh my, so pleasing to the eye
Is it your beloved?
No my dear it’s my blue jeans!...

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I lionized Denim, in turn she spoke for me.

I listened to Sound, she gave me emotion.

I gazed at a picture, made her feel beautiful, she let me see whatever I wanted to see.

Oh, the things these women would do for me.

I gave Word definition, she...

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There is but one moment,
 in a lifetime of moments
That I would not trade for any other
When the fringe of the sky shone
Flushed with flesh pink
Like the tissue around a fresh wound
Before bleeding and spotting
The knees of some cowboy denim blue
Together, But separate
They were each...

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Held you
	in the light
		of faded blue jean 
memories

Starring down the contour of your thighs
	kissing gently the dimples of your knees
		starting to squeeze
	your ankles too tight.

That’s when you threw me
	off of you
		‘round midnight
			train
		stopped playing
	that deep blue music
		we listened to 
	last night
		stand
	swore there would never be another...

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We are so different but born the same.
We look alike but we have different names.
She was miss prim and proper and oh so grand.
I was just the opposite I wore dirty clothes and
            ...

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the greatest misfortune of {us}
is that you only seem to recall 
a few black pages of our relations
nonchalantly tossing aside the gilded chapters
that made up the volumes of our past...

your miscalculation...you sought to suck satin 
out of a denim man  
always a shade less...

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We cannot come now the ladybug sang with accord.
We are smelling the starch on the ironing board.
The baby mouse agreed, she loved the smell of starch too.
And she liked the stiffness of the jeans her mom ironed all blue.

They sat next to the baskets watching...

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It took some time, but
eventually the denim
(after much scrubbing)
of my workaday soul
cleaned-up as if stone washed.

Valuable lessons
were tucked into new pockets,
the clucking hens
of a nagging conscience
were at last silenced.

I’m spinning myself dry today,
hanging up my smoking guns.

Her face still riddles me through,
but I patch up...

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Thirty years ago
I was a boy of fifteen
Shoulder length hair growth
Biker boots and skinny jeans

My Father's best birthday gift
A stunning Levi denim jacket 
Everyday since I've worn it
It's gained a few patches

Recently divorced I met a lady
Sweet as a honey pot
Who loves and respects me
But...

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Barbie wore denim and leather to the ball
Ken her date was attired in a suede suit,
both looked outdoorsy for the fall.

Her leather skirt was straight and tight,
showing off her doll-like figure doing the polka,
as Ken twirled her with all of his might.

Barbie missed a step...

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He took everything of value from me
Except a house with a busted sink
He thought I was screwed
With the denim divorce blues
He wanted to bankrupt dreams

But little did he know
Starting over is a goal 
I’ve a house, making home
I’m proud to hold my own
Busted sink is...

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