Best Sleeved Poems
hanging in the air
humidity’s heaviness . . .
the river’s slow crawl
On the Mississippi lies the beautiful little city where I once lived. How many times I trudged up inclined streets; or leaning forward, red-faced and panting, pressed up slopes with all my might, feet on pedals of my purple Sting-ray bike, urging myself not to dismount prior to reaching glorious level ground! The damp beneath my clothing in those days was a given. Simply stopped to rest. . . sipping pop underneath a tree, I would often feel rivulets of sweat that trickled down beneath my underarms, a surfeit which caused circle stains to appear beneath the arms of short-sleeved shirts or on Sundays, beneath the flowered dresses that I wore to church. However, despite the heat’s discomfort, it was summer, after all!
counting down the days
until the school bell’s last ring -
a fling with summer
Released from stifling classrooms for vacation, I eagerly embraced the sun. . .and how I played! Kickball with the neighbors, visits to the city pool with my sisters and friends, bike rides to parks or into town, where I spent my allowance on records and treats, and hours racing eagerly through the pages of Nancy Drew books in front of a cooling fan - all these things consumed me.
It was in the month of August, and more than a decade of muggy summers later that I found myself transplanted in a desert. As if thrust into a giant pre-set oven with a noose about my neck, I learned firsthand the meaning of “slow roast.” Here, in the new and different place where I've now lived most of my adult life, the heat can leave one with a burn like acid watered down, a deep sensation lingering in skin long after sun has left the sky. Perspiration may just evaporate before it has a chance to wend its way along the body’s contours. Discomfort notwithstanding, there’s no pain. Acclimated to these summers now, I find that it is easier for me to breathe in August heat than it was the first time I’d ever encountered it. Released from stifling work, I go outside into the oven, pen in suntanned hand!
sunshine reflections
so many summers have passed
writing till twilight
Categories:
sleeved, life,
Form:
Haibun
When February feels like May
And skies are blue instead of gray,
We flock outdoors, but do not know
Which way our clothing needs to go.
Winter jacket? Much too warm;
Lots of beads of sweat will form.
Sweater? Sweatshirt? Poncho? Fleece?
Doubts won’t let me leave in peace.
Short-sleeved shirt and if I do,
Does that mean I’ll get the flu?
Tights or socks or do I dare
Go out with feet and toesies bare?
I’m obsessing, I admit.
There are reasons, though, for it.
Temps today are just a tease
For tomorrow we will freeze.
Categories:
sleeved, february,
Form:
Rhyme
Burlap and Satin
He labors in the field 'neath blazing sun
below a sky of blue with clouds of white;
his wagon and his farming tools at hand.
With burlap hat and ragged shirt undone,
from dawn to dusk he works the blessed land;
brings life to fertile soil with brawn and might.
His heart is happy in the time he spends
to make a good life for his new-found bride:
to be together, come the sun or rain.
To share in living on the crops he tends,
and bear the long hot days, sore muscles, pain
his work demands in order to provide.
And now he has an angel by his side
attending him throughout his labored days.
Her hours are long with indoor duties too.
And in the evening, both at rest, abide
the coming of the next day to renew
their modest joys of life in simple ways.
So often through the day, she is right there
beside a window, safe indoors to see,
with cat against her satiny-sleeved arm,
her dear strong man, if he is taking care
to work the field without her fear of harm.
His angel in disguise…dear wife is she.
February 12, 2015
Burlap and Satin
~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: Burlap and Satin
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Judged: 03/30/2018
~1st Place~
Contest: Angels
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: 01/01/2016
~1st Place~
Contest: An Angel in Disguise
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Judged: 03/20/2015
Iambic Pentameter, Rhyme Scheme: a-b-c-a-c-b
Categories:
sleeved, husband, inspirational, perspective, relationship,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Someone help me please,
I feel so lost,
The snow is deep,
The streets are dark,
Unfriendly people
Come at a cost,
I left my red scarf
As a mark,
It’s gone,
But so sleepy, thought,
I’d have a nap,
Last I remember,
Is my yawn!
Has been a busy night,
Santa and Rudolph
Will miss me,
To make sure,
Will tie my
Shoe around this snow
Adorned acorn tree!
Only a short snooze,
For I fear and dread,
To be left behind,
What would lay
For me ahead?
A villager passing from
A nearby farm,
Heard my sleepy voice
And from beneath
A pile of snow
Saw my blue sleeved arm,
And one tiny
Shoeless foot,
Half frozen,
The man knew
He had no choice,
But to awaken me,
For I’d surely freeze,
If left there,
In this bitter breeze!
A hot glass of milk,
A buttered bun,
Sounded to me,
To be a lot more fun!
I’m lost, sadly sang the elf,
Santa and Rudolph
And the gang,
Must have taken off,
I fear to see a
Wolf with fang,
What should I do,
Will you help me?
Address North Pole
Is all I know!
Villager and elf walked on
Hand in hand,
Leaving footsteps in the
Fluffy snow like sand,
The stranger seemed
So kind,
Was this villager
Assigned?
Of course he was,
And with a spin
And whirl we found
Distraught Santa,
Inside his house
Beside his spouse,
Address, North Pole!
A miracle Santa declared,
And looked around
But there was no one there!
Categories:
sleeved, lost,
Form:
Free verse
There it stands, desolate and alone
That roofless shell where the winds
Still whisper of the past
When scampering children's squeals
And wheeling seabirds' cries
Rose thinly through the air.
A thatched croft from which a healthy living was scraped
A shirt-sleeved man, braces showing,
Bald pate bunneted against the sun,
Bent over to tend his plot
An aproned woman cheerfully shooing away the hens
To collect the eggs for the evening meal
Beside a silvery sea stretching
To the horizon
Hiding the city lights and its imagined pleasures
Until those dreams drew the young away
Watched sadly by the elderly pair
Their exodus damning
The island to its desolation
Where still the birds' cries squeal
And the wind through the grass softly whispers
Surrounding the now silent croft
In the salt sharp air
What homely pleasures such a life once offered
Now the graveyard of fading memories
While the once busy city streets
Stand empty drained of life
As the virus continues to take its toll
Categories:
sleeved, bereavement, happiness, loneliness, memory,
Form:
Free verse
"Between the Hours"
If I had stopped to search
your page, again…
decoded somehow
what you had written
Between the hours
Surreal a.m.
3.33
I would have lost the time
to write you into my own story
The Dream
Strip searched against that Wall
where transparent
stands a ghost
in blue neon glow
Floats towards you
instructions read
bent over table
extending naked soul
Stretched flat elbows
Green sleeved and
Palms branding
Red Circled
Welcoming errors and
Psalms prayed against
a satin back kissed and sung
all the way down
To legs that won’t run
Whispers velvet gloved
against a sensual criminal
“Is this Lust or Love?”
Earlier you had mentioned a key
as you slipped your hand in mine
brought me in closer fingers entwined
hip to hip knee to knee
Heat emanating from your
body pressed tight up against me
You whispered that secret in my ear
and shaking your head, grinning you said,
"You know
you are
a real
tease..."
Down my neck you drew a soft line
with your lips and you said,
“It all begins now,
It all begins with this”
and I said
as I moved forward
into the warmth of you
and passed the key on my tongue
sliding warm and wet the words
I tattooed on you with my lips
unlocking you like a well oiled loaded gun,
with a cherry ripe wet smile whipped
“Here take this”
I slid the key from my tongue to yours
“Words,” I said, lips smiling against yours
“are the real shizz”
You laughed and pulled me in tighter
“Come closer to me, Special Agent
you are the real biz”
Words, strip searched
I'm
His
The seduction
slow moving
sensual
electric
(LadyLabyrinth/2020)
"In these days
I'm breathing stone, crying stone
I'll win this race
I'll leave alone, arrive alone
Love this place
The lights...
Under this face, so dry..."
"Stripped to the bone
I did no wrong
Truth is my name..."
Categories:
sleeved, romance, sensual, word play,
Form:
Romanticism
I have seen them stand outside my door,
pleading mother to help stage their show,
on our verandah with stony floor,
tattered clothes, hungry child, wife on tow!
dusty robes speak of miles he walked,
two woven baskets on wooden yoke,
usual wares with which he embarked,
a venomous trade to feed his folks!
with widened eyes I saw him sit down,
his sweat pouring down in summer heat,
mopping face and brow with long sleeved gown,
asks favour of water, food to eat!
rested and nourished his show is on,
a crowd of urchins get a free peep,
melody like from an old car horn,
he blows sharp and sweet but yet so deep.
speckled cobra nearly five feet long,
rocks in anger with an open hood,
heat of summer is no time for song,
disturbed from slumber, how very rude!
As child was overawed by his skills,
such deadly snakes controlled by his Been*,
there is tragedy behind each thrill,
truth of life, often hidden unseen!
snake charmer’s life is twin tragedy,
education denied from a child,
for snake it is to be in custody,
to lose their freedom to rule the wild!
let’s solve this tale with education,
help their children go to a good school,
use their skills to help conservation,
so the snakes roam free, the wild to rule!
*Been a musical flute made from a coconut shell used by snake charmers to distract the snake
Premier contest winner (3)
Written 4/01/2021
9 syllables each line except one that has 10 syllables
‘The Snake Charmers’ poetry contest
Kai Michael Neumann sponsored
Categories:
sleeved, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
From the moment we met
he'd treated me like a princess
I was young and naive
flattered by his attention,
misinterpreting it as a forever love
Mum took an instant dislike to him
She said he was like a chameleon
and I should be wary of his dark side
but I was too loved up to listen or too much in love
In fact, it only made me want him more
Within a month
I'd moved into his flat
Swapping girly nights out
for cosy nights by a blazing fire
He revamped my wardrobe
threw out my sexy dresses
preferring me to wear jeans
Mum used to ring me
but he told me to ignore her
said she wanted to split us up
I deleted her number from my phone
Friends stopped calling me
I always said I was too busy
One night I burned the pizza
and he went ballistic
A black rage engulfed him
His eyes flashed as dark as coals
and his fists pummeled me
like a volley of cannon balls
Vivid, violet bruising covered my body
He couldn’t see the scars in my heart
and I doubt if he'd have cared
He begged for forgiveness,
said it would never happen again
Like a fool I believed him
I even blamed myself for ruining dinner
Next morning, I put on a long-sleeved blouse
painted on a smile and went to work
It was then the cycle of abuse began
Verbally, he’d fly into a rage
sometimes over the slightest thing
Then, physically which ended up
with him using me like a punching bag
One night, he went too far
grabbed a hammer and beat me
neighbours heard my screams
and alerted the police …
Hours later, I woke up in intensive care
Mum was sitting by my side
a look of sadness in her eyes
instead of one that implied, "I told you so"
I only wish I had listened to her
Categories:
sleeved, abuse, violence,
Form:
Free verse
Trapped in a sinuous labyrinth,
I run down twisting corridors of well-trodden soil,
flanked on each side
by bushes twice my height!
I go left; I go right;
turning left again, I hit a wall.
For hours I have been inside here running.
Panic is swallowing my soul,
for I am horribly
horribly
lost.
Overcome by my anxiety,
I let myself collapse to the dirt floor
where I sit trying to compose myself,
and as I sit,
I struggle with the puzzle -
how to escape this huge web
with tentacles like those of
of a giant green monster of the sea.
How will I ever find my way
out of this impossible maze?
Afternoon’s glare barely reaches me where
I sit in the gloom of my doom.
Suddenly, the sound of happy voices!
And not just within earshot.
This sound is SO close that were I to just
reach out through one of these large bushes,
I am sure I could actually embrace
the sweetness of the joy I hear.
I have been left and right and all around.
these long paths,
and I refuse again to go down them.
Grateful to be wearing my long pants
and a long-sleeved shirt,
I remove a polyester jacket
which I have had wrapped around my waist.
With the jacket, I cover as much of my body as I can,
particularly my face and hands.
The lovely garden which I had viewed from the road
when I first came upon this miserable maze
is right on the other side of the bush
where I have ended up.
I know it; I just know it . . .
I take the plunge!
June 27, 2020
for Dear Heart's 'Maze - 10 Word Challenge' Contest
Submitted Sept. 14, 2021 for the ''L'' Contest New Or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
sleeved, lost,
Form:
Free verse
December 14, 2012
Little pink coat, Mommy holding
little pink hand, the firehouse
must have seemed a marathon away,
the longest run of their lives.
Skedaddle little pink coat,
miniature uggs flopping,
one size up so they’ll
fit next year.
Nametags sewn in elfin collars,
forever suspended mitten-
sleeved jackets
in a Sandy Hook cupboard.
Good morning Ms. Davino,
Good morning, Mrs. Hochsprung,
Good morning, Mrs. Murphy,
Good morning, Ms. Rousseau,
Good morning, Mrs. Sherlach,
Good morning, Ms. Soto.
Who knew you’d be so brave?
I remember my first grade teacher,
when the hallways were safe
and nuclear attack seemed so remote.
Mrs. Lanza, did Adam
say good morning, Mom,
or just get down to
business?
We are all so sorry.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
December 18, 2012
These shootings occurred in my hometown.
Categories:
sleeved, death, people,
Form:
Free verse
I watched, fascinated, as the tall lone boy
in line to ride the Scrambler
stuffed handfuls of peanuts in his mouth.
This was the same boy I had spied just an hour ago
further down the way
where thirteen seemingly ravenous, foolish people
bent their heads to plates, and with hands behind their backs,
plunged their faces into myriads of pies.
He hadn't won the contest but had come rather close;
the nuts he was eating now replaced the pies he'd fed his face.
But telling stains of blueberry and meringue remained
upon the long sleeved shirt.
The line for our ride proceeded at a turtle's pace
till finally we got into our seats.
Secured inside, we waited to begin.
Close by, I saw the boy unbutton
the top of his already loose baggy jeans,
a timely gesture I would say!
Then folks around us howled
as round and round we went.
Perhaps some screams held terror.
Mine held only delight.
And when the ride was finished,
we exited as quickly as we could
though giddy from that sweet rush of adrenaline.
I glanced a final time at that strange lad.
He stooped and sputtered something to the ground:
a few whole peanuts and a couple of blue tinged chunks.
Disgust was worn on the faces of the onlookers around us,
but only I was well aware of all the food
he’d still managed to hold down!
He wiped his mouth on one long sleeve
and stared right back at them;
well, I declare,
he headed straightway toward a fragrant hot dog stand.
.
Categories:
sleeved, child, boy,
Form:
Narrative
When I fell I had no one to help me up
I was laughed at, Bullied and kicked while I was down
Alcohol was too important to my parents for them to be around
Someone give me a hug before I self destruct
Forced to go through the storm alone with no rain coat on
Hoping my nightmare would end but the pain goes on
Parents didn't wrap me up or prepare me
I stepped into the cold world and it scared me
I was taken away from my parents and placed with foster families
Made to feel worthless and they have the nerve to question my sanity
27 foster families by the age of 11 I'm used to change
At 14 I started self-harming to try and remove the pain
It worked for a while
But most people could see the hurt in my smile
Going to school with long sleeved jumpers in summer
Feeling worthless because my parents didn't call despite having the number
5 days before my 15th birthday my Father passed away
He wasn't my father, he was never there, I don't even miss him today
Got to see him and mum 6 times a year if they turned up
When he passed I was still waiting for my first hug
I started sleeping with numerous girls not caring about their feelings
Using them as my bandage because I was bleeding
I was wrong for that, now I hate myself for treating those beautiful girls like that
I was young and in a world of pain so I didn't know how to act
I used so many girls for sex when I needed a hug more
But I couldn't express it because I hadn't felt love before
I've came a long way and I am no longer like this
But the 16 year old me needed me to write this
When I fell I had no one to help me up
I was laughed at, Bullied and kicked while I was down
Alcohol was too important to my parents for them to be around
Someone give me a hug before I self destruct
Categories:
sleeved, absence, anger, deep, depression,
Form:
Free verse
I’m lost, the snow’s so deep, red scarf left as a mark, but gone,
I need to nap, a busy night, Santa and Rudolph will miss me
Sleep, I must sleep, so tie my shoe around a tree with thorn,
Must prepare for dread, for what lies ahead, a villager passing heard
My sleepy voice, and from beneath a steep pile of snow peeped out
A blue sleeved arm and shoe-less foot, so he awakened me,
I would freeze in this bitter breeze, a hot glass of milk is
What you need, the stranger said, so tearfully I did explain,
I feared a wolf with fang, poor tired Santa forgot to head count,
Please help, all I know is address North Pole, so elf and stranger
Walked hand in hand, leaving footprints in the snow like sand,
Was this stranger assigned, of course we know he was, with speedy swirl,
Found themselves in Santa’s house, beside his spouse, address North Pole.
A miracle Santa declared and looked around, but no-one was there!
Competition Entry: Footprints
Dated: 02/05/2021
Sponsor: Carolyn Devonshire
Categories:
sleeved, christmas,
Form:
Free verse
President Elect Alexandria Ocasio Cortez - 2024
Circa...Approximately one month
following her thirty fifth birthday
October 13th, 2024
AOC became the first
female commander in chief,
and youngest person ever
to assume Oval Office
amidst landslide victory
among competing candidates
ousting current establishment incumbent,
elected to serve United States
despite being neophyte,
she received most
votes of any contender
since founding of Democracy
to assume modestly furnished
Capitol Hill - Washington
District of Columbia
most powerful post
within the United States
immediately electrifying North America
with her megawatt smile
crackling, snapping, and popping
with positivity, integrity, energy...
Deafening applause swept across nation
upon ascending dais prior to uttering one word,
she immediately wowed
darling of the hour received standing ovation
across greensward donned bajillion crowd
cheering, imploring, pumping...
green sleeved fists acclamation
action speaking decibels
louder than words bowed
young lady brought to genuine tears,
asper bona fide accreditation
understandable that newly
minted ma'am felt proud
to stride rite, (an air of modest
confidence) did enshroud,
sans an angelic halo augmenting
as optimistic words heard aloud
heralded sincere charming, intimating,
radiating... no frills accustomation
as if pledging troth to every citizen
(inclusive every flora and fauna) vowed
to steer ship of state toward ecologically,
environmentally, essentially...activation
away from fossil fuels shifting energy
consumption vis a vis alternate modalities
sow rejuvenation plowed
back into Earth prioritizing monied allocation
(dollar amount well worth investment) actualization,
where future generations will be grateful
to dead recent forebears for gift endowed
worth more than fine spun gold regarding
preservation of Gaia, how *****sapiens adaptation
made existence for all living creatures
(animals, plants, even this fungi) healthier allowed
populace to breathe easy and rest assured
quality of life for billions (ushering universal
family planning), despite tense adjudication,
especially when linkedin with
nuclear warheads disavowed,
but eventually kickstarted synergistic administration.
Categories:
sleeved, america, angel, blessing, faith,
Form:
Epic
On a cold frosty night the moon hung in the dark sky like a silver sixpence,
Waiting for a bus that seemed to be hours late, wind dried my face I was cold,
While leaning on the stop sign I could see into rooms through lighted windows,
All seemed warm and cosy Christmas Trees glowed and fairy lights went on and off.
Decorations hung from ceilings they were all colours gold, silver, reds and blue,
Black and white televisions told everyone about cold weather outside on the news,
People walked past windows wearing short sleeved jumpers, children smiled happily,
It was Christmas Eve, and somewhere in the background I could hear Slade singing.
In house windows and on mantle pieces hyacinths blossomed the mingled with the tree,
There were crocuses and Dutch and Florentine tulips adding to the splendor of a room,
Best tables were on show piled with egg-nogg and bottles of cream soda and lemonade,
Stockings full of chocolate, crunchies, buttons and a white milky bar hung on walls.
Open fires roared fed by copper coal scuttles mum and dad celebrated with a Babycham,
A glass of Sandymans Port sipped by the grand parents all laughing enjoying themselves,
Then in the cold night air I could hear an engine struggling up a hill to my bus stop,
A green double decker windows glowing stopped and I got on, I silently wished my window
Friends a happy Christmas.
Categories:
sleeved, christmas, christmas, night, grandparents,
Form:
Prose Poetry