Best Seaming Poems
Serging through life, I whipstitch, weft, and welt,
But always, my thoughts are pick-threading.
As stippled patches of emotion rise and fall in me,
See me, feel me, touch me, heal me
Just too many scars.
The mindless mind stresses itself through mental snares,
I waste away beneath it all, piecing and pondering.
Where the struggling soul and pleating body meet,
I seek significance in life’s lucid-lined layers.
Confronting my inner fears as an owneress,
Time leaves its cursed mark in starched stitches that cut.
Each moment experienced is like a closing zipper,
My calm exterior ridges are often rough, ready, and ruffled.
A life full of scars.
While unique experiences blend like transient ombre shades
My essence feels like a needled complex knit.
Memories form patterns from life’s four-patches
Challenges scissors cut are like shredded sharp diamonds.
Yet more paths diverge along life’s shifting chevrons
I strive to fit somehow; this square is what I do.
Yet my world stands out like tri-recs blocks
Creating stars and pineapples to fight fifty-four forty.
Scars that are hidden and visible, surface and deep.
Like trapezoids, I sense those oblong obstacles loom
Worth or less by my own limited gauge, I measure.
I pray each day new chapters begin casting on
While others exhaust, reaching their bind-offs.
I do seek a pattern master, and I need to pray for one.
I contemplate constantly along selvages of thoughts.
They hang like dangling tails…
I start to visualize my purpose slowly seaming.
Look as I whipstitch, weft, and welt through life, serging.
As I graciously and sagaciously test life’s many swatches,
I devote my life to the Master Seamster the…
Healer of scars.
Categories:
seaming, emotions, faith, philosophy, psychological,
Form:
Free verse
In the early morning light…
You stand before me, and slowly disrobe, as you have so many times
before.
Then …for a moment… as you have so many times before…you stare at
me, not seaming to see me at all, as you wipe the sweat from my face
with the palm of your hand.
Then…for the first time, as if looking for some lost truth you hope to find
buried in the depth of me, behind the silver mask I wear, you stare at me
in a way you never have before…Long and hard, until…tears begin to roll
down your cheek, when…for the first time… you see yourself, as you truly
are, through my complete indifference.
Written: August 23, 2014
Categories:
seaming, introspection,
Form:
Personification
As his rider gives the judge a glance,
He tosses his mane and shifts his stance;
The winner he is, without a doubt,
He trots in place and then moves out;
Not quite believing what I saw,
I watched in silence, struck in awe;
Almost as if he wants to tease;
He crosses over with seaming ease,
His perfect cadence and fluid prance;
I sat in wonder as I watched him dance.
~Write A Backwards Poem Contest~
Categories:
seaming, animals, cowboy-western, introspection, nature,
Form:
Couplet
The honesty of kin, childhood, the win
to have it all, the prize, the goal,
a Mother's prayer, the senseless maul,
somewhere within my reach, still small!
The hot wheel, faded, paintless steel
within my hand ~ my heart did feel
my Son, but three or four reveal
his coping, his new life, my teel.
The years, fond scheme, and yet within
this child still reckon with esteem
his choices, hurts, constants begin
my focused art, would still find glean!
Within the sewing basket tucked
amidst the buttons, colors mixed,
this small child's toy, not run amuck
scavenged quixotic Mother's fix!
His heyday, now at fifty-two
amidst the bulging corporate trade,
once tiny, sweet, His eyes of blue
but focused on toy cars parade!
Now oil and gas, a larger trek
all busy, but with time so pressed,
a family home, the still recess
of waiting for their coverage blessed!
From small to big, a child's ingress
resumes from trusting through duress
the simple moments of caress
are chosen monument's suggest!
God keep my courage to arrest
those seaming giant's fouling sport,
that from some innocence' impress
ambition's honesty to test!
Contention's wander, thereby less
the larger goal retreat, reveal
the cost of money brings duress
a childhood's faith, much quieter . . . . real!
Categories:
seaming, childhood, son,
Form:
Monorhyme
a parody on song "Winter Wonderland"- inspired by my winter alone in an
unheated house.
"Come away, I am threadbare
Snow is falling....
Where there' be hair..
A cold-as_sed dam_ night
It's really a fright
Walkin' in my winter underwear..
Butt-cheeks gleaming
Through the holes, near the seaming
A nasty cold a_s,
My skin is blue cast
Walkin' in my winter underwear..
In the meadow we can make a snowman
And pretend that he's an EMS
He'll say- "sonny is that really you?"
Or did someone paint you a_s blue?
Later on, I'll perspire
When I light...
My a_s on fire....
It burns so that way
I'm happy so say
Walkin' in my winter underwear...."
Categories:
seaming, funny, health, parody, song-winter,
Form:
Burlesque
Metamorphosis: a word for butterflies,
Said the science textbook in school,
Positive transformations connoted her young soul.
Age brought in a new realisation,
Life, a one-way road with two destinies,
The darker one a metamorphosis too.
The endlessly bleak days,
Dwindling success,
Slipping confidence,
Broken dreams,
The road to change now a narrow old bridge,
Fragile and frail to support her lofty dreams,
Permanency etched in this new route,
Metamorphosis it was; not a passing phase.
Yet, butterflies her eyes chose to see,
Bright pupils midst tear streaked face,
Light shone on the narrow bridge,
Carefully she lugged her weight.
The caterpillar crawled, awkward and slow,
The bridge creaked, threatening to break,
Yet held on to this struggle everyday,
Patiently trudging to the light ahead.
Metamorphosis, still a double-edged sword,
All her struggles could tip her either way,
Yet, she chose the route with pain,
Trying to metaphorse yet again.
She knew it was a story of win or die,
A second dark metamorphosis she wouldn't survive,
Yet this turnaround she chose,
To gloomy life, she refused to bend.
Cocoon she became, the saddest soul alive,
Tears became her appetite,
Broken she was in a thousand pieces,
Her delicate spirit a ruined mess.
The pain made her numb and weak,
Shallow breaths and fiery cheeks,
She closed her eyes, her bright pupils gleaming,
She felt her soul float, she felt existence cease.
But, most of all she felt her eyes open,
Her lips curved a natural smile.
Wings she bore as beautiful and delicate as her spirit,
Her body she felt, weightless and symmetric,
Effortlessly, she flew upwards,
Gliding through the wind, peaceful and sound.
Embodiment she now was, of beauty and success and all things gold.
Bleak fluorescent rooms a thing of the past,
The bridge her metamorphosis, the pain her badge of honour,
She knew it was her destiny, sweet success and enchanting beauty,
She wasn't made for this toil and grub.
Yet, that was her life, the struggles and the pain.
She was now, an angelic dream,
A lover's ballad, a sailor's home.
She was a child's wish, a fairy tale,
A land of exotic fruits, a colourful maze.
She was a drug, an elixir of life,
An ecstatic dream, a virgin queen.
She exists as immortal bliss,
Her scent seaming all earthly souls.
Categories:
seaming, emotions, identity, uplifting, visionary,
Form:
Blank verse
A few toys were her trade
standing on the side of the passage.
Bearing the daring of a beginner
she had being long hours frustrated.
Seaming week enough
a close forties male approach.
Never looking at the toys he whisper at her ear.
The toys were cheap
but the girl choose to have no price.
The man turned to go away.
But what a price is to buy if you care
for the one you wanted for party.!
The girl looked down at the toys in tears
wiping the edge of her sharp eye.
Categories:
seaming, caregiving, depression, friendship, life,
Form:
ABC
Perilous assumption, the faith I've read
my mind, my mind, the tone of led
is not contingent on my tread
but hope in virtue's seaming knead!
The evermore, I vacate head
and pray, accomplish what God's said,
no idling force, depicts instead
there must be action, leadings fed!
Oh, path's dissentious rise from bed
creating logic, fear not dread
by peace's hodge-podge, stealth unwed
some oneness, trust's lodge, copious, shed!
Is prayer, surmounting, higher . . . . . said!
Categories:
seaming, prayer,
Form:
Monorhyme
find me here
in
this
concrete form
delusionally real
sinking into seams
seamstresses seaming
what has been stitched
in
me
needle to flesh
she has stolen
my
breath
find me here my dear
find me here
your arms are my addiction
your love opens the shore
find me here
in
the
sand
sinking for more
anchored by this concrete form
find me here
?
Categories:
seaming, art,
Form:
Concrete
And You
I Are
Have The
The Half
Other Of
Half This
Heart
Sitting on a sagging couch
Remembering, the olden touch
Robin warbles, on tree of pears
Own memories, of yesteryears
How many storms passed?
Yet, to anger, we never rushed
Summer has faded, now is fall
Always together, we will recall
Counting the golden leaves
On the garden, a spider weaves
Till the nagging rains come
Seaming our breath, with a hum
Of warm embraces and kisses
Edifying once more, the pieces
Of love, till the next cockcrow
O! Forever, you and me, the vow
The dreams, from yesterday
Live, for tomorrow…and today
Remembering, the olden touch
In love, sitting on a sagging couch
Categories:
seaming, family, husband, life, love,
Form:
Romanticism
Seaming in a sewing room, earning his copper coins in twos. With patterns, tools, & spools, fast pace so hard to do. Rusty fans that are always frozen, feed dog staying broken with a boss who's constantly smoking fine Cuban cigars. Just another day at Sweat Shop Bazaar.
Categories:
seaming, art, character, creation, day,
Form:
Rhyme
Gentleness invokes kinship,
more than trust's oft biased recommend,
that fills my warranty for beauty's own in crypt,
I thank thee God, for measures in contend!
Forever, in that beauty were love's tend,
the faith between true friendship might erupt,
still it is forceful, deft attainment's quip,
mere looking gives to Soul, some filling up!
And see thee still, in all my eyes do ground,
wherein love's mercy must have contemplate,
if it were loathsome in some vile resound,
my heart would not have of these words found state!
Oh beauty, you are mine, not underrate,
the vestige I did yearn to so expound,
when will is chastised so, the quiet sedate
does moisten my eyes swell, no more impound!
Thy beauty love, be love, in nature's gate,
the seaming center of this garment's strung
holds empathy as moment's turn belay
the love that I do feel, be inward sung!
Categories:
seaming, art, love, nature, on
Form:
Rhyme
The city was under snow encamped in ice and wet the water never ceased to fall
for days at times we cried my friend and eye.
The poor were never satisfied with bread they always cried for meat to feed the
lust replete now buried in the caverns if the sleet came near the hydras of the
long forgotten faded flowers in the snow marking time to be considered luck. A
Penny tossed when drinking drunk not stoned. A Penny lands in jail on tails and
soon the food will come. Poor not poorly educated just missing love.
Christianity - 30+ CE PARTTWO
Flipped a penny turned to tails changed the luck to better days moving down the
road with no heavy loaded gun shooting only wishes at the stars. Eye have a
solar powered outlook not on life but down my nose.
Girls at home still not in collage need to play with Barbie leave the Ken doll in the
box. Alone. He is not the chieftain of the dolls. Fallow fish are useless days are
wasted lost seaming calibrations find the reason for the rhymes.The science that
deals with mental processes and behavior is sometimes revered as psychology
the moderators quite agree the thought process is interrupted in some people
call them crazxy treat them normal feed them house them bury them in wasted
places sweep them up in boxes marked for burial let no one get away. Murder
rules the day.
Play games and get mad take the ball and bat back home save them for the next
day come. Dress up in your finery hose smelling like a rose in purple jaded livery
repose upon the couch in linen and in majesty her majesty arose. Toss a
penny “is it tails?” read the poem prose the CharlaX Fabel Twentyone and love.
Categories:
seaming, devotion, inspirational, peace, philosophy,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Mayhem mondern-day mayhem-
merely considering if but once the pious... .
Summer-rains threatening-
happy-day clouds-lume, plume-billow... .
Undivided-faith;
open-fledgling-boasts-of both, this...
having considered but-if only-once... .
Opportunity-embraces-grace,
grace... the-chance... .
Love;
rejoices... !
Oh-love, brotherhood,
God-man-grace,
they dance,
joy--it-sings... .
Enlightened hearts-defiled,
once-shame piercing, chaining, relentless,
endless-it seaming, eternity... !
Faith, hope enchanting,
delighting,
""hold-on child, "please... !""
Oh-yes-knowing,
peace-leads the-soul, to-open;
remain, in-the questing... !
God's devotion-abiding,
cleansing;
oh-love, the-brotherhood-of man;
grace, together-they-dance,
joy-singing,
chanting... yes,
for all-eternity... !
Oh-the Glory-the Glory... yes... !
God; His mercy... !
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18CJGlp5eiI&feature=related
Categories:
seaming, inspirational
Form:
Prose Poetry
Out in the distance
I saw three tall ones
towering high
Amidst the distance meadow
Serving as sentinel
With a gawking boldness
Out in the distance
Emerged three flat ones
Seaming up the looming distance
Between the earth
reaching to the sky
crouching with style
while poised
Amidst the lonely pasture
Out in the distance
I saw three round ones
Holding up their own
Scouring the wilderness
With its awesome beauty
Thus evolving
an enchanting world
amidst the withering spread
Categories:
seaming, beauty, nature,
Form: