Best Ironing Poems

Hot was the room that she sweated a lot,
as the maid tired,
ironing
white shirts 
for
her
master
who wanted
to be dandy
when he toyed with the ladies at the ball.

17 November 2020

Double Tetractys 6 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper

Picture No 2


Placed 1





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I grasped the steam-iron with left hand,
the right was straightening trouser band;
it felt different, unusual, its hiss and feel,
serpent’s thought made me reel

I imagined it  come up from lake, it felt 
much like a rattlesnake, its heat I conjured
venomed-fang, turning skin to soft marang:...

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IRONING

Years of ironing starched shirt collars
for my father and the aprons
we wore for cookery class in school,
gave a polished surface to the clothes iron.

The end opened like the lid of a box
and out came the large stone which
we buried in the centre of the open...

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Question for you, chicks and dudes,
What is an ironing board to you?
Did you know they were surfboards?
Yes, they grow up, surf did bore,
Surfboards got a day job,
Being ironing boards is their lot,
Nonsense I do compose,
Only a joke in an ode!...

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Steaming creases out, only to press them back in
Makes me want to chuck the whole pile in the bin...

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fall ironing day
work clothes starched and creased
rustling of birch leaves



posted on June 17, 2018...

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If a pink elephant rides on a green wave then the tarantula will be under great pressure. Chains are a peril. Particularly when placed upon a coconut. Technical difficulties are often solved with the clear blue lines of a fountain pen. Or black. Any colour...

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in the laundry room of sky
the angels wash
the cloths of heaven
hang them on the clouds to dry
and then begin
their cosmic ironing

© Gail Foster 27th December 2016...

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The air is so chock full and thick
with irony

It must be hard to draw a single
breath inside

Without choking on it and gasping
for oxygen 

But then again at very least

Both my beard and moustache have
grown a little longer in the meanwhile

But isn't that the point of...

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,.,.,. & 0* x
A caged warehouse is a minotaur a minute. Basket carries baskets in endless increasing circles. But by day seemingly friendly boxes become very quiet when they are packed to the brim. And a wire cage is incredibly interesting to chat to for...

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Folding Flowers While Ironing Rocks  in The Dark

I load the washing machine up with my dirty wishes
Found myself lost and broken in the kicthen
All the writing on the bathroom stalls
Surpasses the shoppers at the malls
And why must I write about you at all
You come...

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The afternoon sunlight filtered through her window drapes
revealing each age line molded to her face
alone in the dusky shadows working in her measured way
a basket of clothes at her feet

one by one she pulled each wrinkled cloth out
and began to iron their folded lines
the sound...

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Life brings mysteries to us like stars we can’t touch,
much less dream to migrate to (with planets like ours?)
where more life might exist! Evolution’s ‘God’s Law!’
Life’s predestined to tease those aspiring to map
where things are in the landscape of lives that we live.
Know (the reason?)...

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Ironing board 
Bare feet
You'd make me food
I'd eat

Little later straight clothes
No holes 
Warm in winter
The splinter

I have no ironing board now
But still that board reminds me how
I have grown to not need so pressed clothes
Oppressed woes

But the ironing board 
Remains at your place
I'll remember those...

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Some ladies enjoy riding on their brooms
All over the house, into all the rooms
Gran rode the ironing board
Only skis she could afford
Off she'd ride, before ironing resumes




Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Lisa YY
July 17, 2022
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