Best Shirt Poems

“I hate Mondays,” yes, I surely do,
I say aloud while folding up that shirt
which, with some other tops, I'm giving to
the Goodwill store along with an old skirt.

I think about last weekend and how fast
it went. How wonderful it was to lie
around the house! ...

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When you wear a dirty shirt,
You're a book getting judged by its cover.
People think you're really poor, or nutty,
Or that you have a menial job.
Or that you're all three of those,
And then they throw in a bunch of other things too.

Maybe you're a drug addict,...

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farewell notes perfumed with ink ~ white shirt that always escaped laundry

September 2, 2020

My Most Unforgettable Moment in HighSchool Poetry Contest
Sponsor:  JCB Burl...

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Church people
in their finest threads,
rushing off to place Jesus in their heads.
Me, lying in bed 
a bleach-stained purple t shirt 
sunlight eating through the drapes
mind somewhat intact
bad thoughts flooding into the head
sorry Jesus...no disrespect
but I need a little more sleep...

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did you know                did you know
   what i am? well             i'm a shirt, a shirt
 ...

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The bright orange rugby shirt I had, 
When I was fourteen, fifteen, sixteen and seventeen,  
Was my trophy and my pride and joy, 
Never to be deprived of me, 
Even if I complained to my parents or to their friend, 
To have been seen...

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Wear his T-shirt and feel him close when he‘s gone....

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Wear his T-shirt and feel him close when he‘s gone....

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Limerick : Once a Leftist Stuffed-Shirt taught class

Once a Leftist Stuffed-Shirt taught class
He stuffed students’ drains with high-class grass
The girls during recess
Gave him ample access
Now hangs out with big-funding Top-Brass.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013...

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You stole my shirt again
The one with stains
Beneath my armpits

You lied and said 
The shirt somehow fell 
Into your suitcase

A dark black shadow 
That hurled itself off a cliff
And landed inside your
Sad blonde soul

And when you sleep alone at night
In the naked stretch of your...

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My grandson has a lot of tees
With Mario imprinted.
His sister wears her Ariels,
Her mermaid passion hinted.

Which made me think of certain shirts,
Quite popular back when
I though that Dr. Kildare
Was the handsomest of men.

They didn’t have his picture
But resembled what he wore
And how I wished I...

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It hung in the closet
long after he was gone
the scent of his cologne 
lingering there
The cuffs were worn and shabby
Colors faded from the sun
I would pack it with the other things
his watch and silver cuff links
memories from the past
I could not part with
As I started...

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After very long time, I took out my shirt
Cornered in the wardrobe on a hanger.
I found a long familiar hair in the collar
How a*beauty drew me with a single hair.

Ah! What a feel of an intoxicating smell
Of her most favored Bocheron perfume.
Bringing back the memory...

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Standing listing, leaning against the wall.
Danced lots. drank shots. Friends out having a ball.
Bud bumped bouncer, lost his shirt,
imbibed too much and chased a skirt.
Group hug. Uber call. Another good pub crawl.

-Angel Fatale-...

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Oh, how sublimely my hormones hurt
                    At the sight of you in my favorite shirt

Not once did I ever intend to share it
   ...

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