Best Stitches Poems
Twas the night before Christmas and I was a gasp
at the rumors that filled me with an odious fright.
For Santa Claus was now tired of working for free
and would be harvesting organs well into the night.
He would be looking for kidneys, livers and hearts
as well as others too numerous to mention.
All this was designed to lower his cost of production
and help his Elves with their healthcare and pension.
The reporters reported the disheartening news
that dear Santa had put an end to holiday cheer.
And to lock all our windows and batten the doors
to prevent a Christmas which could end only in tears.
Now the Media's record of telling the truth
was often wrong and extremely spotty at best.
So I had faith in Saint Nick and his message of hope
and would not give in to the lies they address.
So I fell into slumber to awake Christmas morning
and put my trust in the jolly old Elf.
But awoke latter that night when the stomping of hooves
caused several books to fall from the shelf.
Quickly grabbing a candle... I flew down the stairs
to see my tree laden with presents and toys.
As dear Santa had come through with his usual flair
and my trepidation turned to wonder and joy.
So I opened a window and peered through the night
and spotted the old Elf at the head of his sleigh.
I heard him yell from afar as he drove out of sight,
'You should rest in bed for most of the day.'
I pondered his point... unsure what he meant
as my body began to shimmy and shiver.
And as sure as the bells that would ring Christmas morn...
that fat bastard had taken half of my liver.
So as I lay in the bed and considered my stress
and the reason for my tension and plight.
But put it aside... when I realized by giving an organ
I put the spirit of Christmas in a more favorable light.
The End
Night before Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Date: Nov 29/2019
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.
My thoughts do not control me , I control my thoughts...
Devel can not suduse me , I subdue him...
I'm the queen of myself, the queen of my thoughts, the queen of my life...
Nothing can shake me or break me or even scratch my skin..
I don't have to cover my wounds, my wounds do heal fast so I don't need stitches...
I don't need keys to open my locks....
I'm free not locks nor chains can put me down..
Not even death, I dig my own grave ..
I'm me not trying to be anything or anyone else...
Born free and like this I'll always be...
Where can home be found,
when mother can’t pick up the phone?
I follow her in patchwork,
until I see her brilliance,
once again, in heaven.
happiness wrap me in a queen-sized quilt,
with love’s vagabond stitches
and perfect peace of mind.
I’m like a wandering gypsy without
a home
still, my dad
does care for the sick.
The exchange, of my mom’s compassionate
and push-away arms and
her plum-personality,
for my dad’s smile.
I get all wrapped up in that, too -
the even, zigzag stitches, like glue.
3/29/2022
Love Stitches an Ocean
We met once
along the lines
of short sentences
in the aether
we exchanged
conversations in dreams
we thought we were poets
but we were just empty chimes
echoing the us before us,
we existed
free verse
in the unseen
next time 'round
when we meet,
again,
you will remember me
you will
think
déjà vu
they say
there -
in that time and place
well,
there,
there
are no
guarantees
but
they say -
eventually,
if it is to be
believed,
time stands still
we do meet,
again
we clearly see
each in the
other,
in that strange new time
surreal
the real you
the real me
love stitches
time back to
where we began
where we touch,
and speak
new sentences
notes played, again,
the keys
we should have seen
and held closer,
to make real
our dreams
we look through
our windows
in that new time,
we
eventually see
the deepest ocean
that is
you
and me
(LadyLabyrinth/ 2022)
“Oceans”/ Coldplay
https://youtu.be/D72bzPbZQrI
"Meet me in Blue Sky
Meet me again ... "
LYRICS , “Oceans”, Coldplay
https://genius.com/Coldplay-oceans-lyrics
... "Meet me in blue sky
Meet me again
In the rain
[Outro]
You've got to find yourself alone in this world
You've got to find yourself alone "
I watch the magic happening
As yarn becomes a shawl;
The knitting needles of my aunt
Are at her beck and call.
Her fingers wind the wool around
Without her even thinking
And rows and rows of stitches show
Without her even blinking.
Her expertise is such that
I just really can't compare it,
But best of all is when she's done,
Then I will get to wear it!
“Buy me a scarf” she said and curled her toes through snow to demonstrate the color of
numbness..
“Buy me a scarf and I'll wrap our memories around my neck, you can watch me smile in
storms as I contemplate warmth and look at you beneath the sky.”
I wrote promises on windows with fingers that touched shadows and counted snowflakes
crystals as I destroyed their patterns in a feeble attempt to claim love...
There, in the house that spoke one thousand tears, I thought about the secrets we
whispered when the year turned and purple was fantastic on the other side of frozen lakes
despite the voices that named us something unspeakable.
Rings and silver and I wore one on my toe, polished perfectly, my feet felt summer and I
laughed in lilts of June and breaths of lilac bushes that lined my backyard, but I kept my
closet door shut, winter stitches on shelves so January's voice would never be heard...
I boxed up photographs and letters that quoted songs we had sang together, I covered up
her haircut and placed her eyeliner in an envelope but I knew, beneath the ground where
lilac bushes rooted themselves...
she wore the ring I had placed upon her finger on her fourteenth birthday, on the day
August spoke up and we listened intently, mocking
January
and bedposts that wrote her name...
and I sat, cleaning prints off of windows, erasing promises and eluding love, wondering,
if I had learned how to knit, would sidewalks have been so convincing?
I listened to memories and bought myself a scarf, wrapped stitches of January around my
neck and heard her, in laughter, as she whispered through the wind that numbed the fingers
that broke promises...
“Lend me your scarf, and I'll see you, I'll hold your hand when August knocks you down.”
This Pain I can't explain
Shame, no gain
Past to present, present to past
Day to dawn, dawn to day
Life is no place, nor safe
Be free all you can
Get all you wish
Just to forget your dreams
Stuck in the game again
Destruction is unavoided
Dismay is insane
Stories of the past
Stories of today
Those of tomorrow
I can't explain
I stitched the names of
Loved ones
Onto the bleeding surface
Of my broken heart
To try to stop the steady stream
Of hope
From flowing out
And pain
Flowing in
But the stitches
Did not hold
My heart together
And I finally found out
Why
They ripped
Through the fragile exterior
And left
A bloody mess
Of torn up flesh
And agony
In their wake
They tore right through
Because they wanted to be free
Of the restrictive bounds
That held them in place
In my heart
So they ripped it apart
And found their freedom
And happiness
And love
While they left me behind
With my battered heart
Rotting on the floor
And I walked through
The rest of life
With a hole in my chest
So no one
Could hurt me
Ever again
She was a jolly seamstress Miss Gritches
Who was a whiz at patchin' men's britches
And alterin' ladies skirts
And sewin' buttons on shirts
'Twas said she kept her patrons in 'stitches'
26 stitches is my life.
Hardly got a family and no room for a wife.
Don't ask questions that you don't want to know.
I have already buried myself but where he only knows.
Afraid of the consequences but to numb to change.
I might open the book but I'm too afraid to turn the page.
Tomorrow is another day but to me it never changes.
Stuck in this Groundhog Day...
Just another 26 stitches.
I don't know why they stand beside me.
It must be love.
But since I lost my brother self-loathing has become my crutch.
26 stitches are how i live my life.
The only one who can intervene has since taken his own life.
26 stitches i will forever be.
I will see you in heaven, hell or somewhere in between.
Let's start the bidding at eight hundred dollars
For the quilt that was sewn by the hands of a scholar.
A mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend,
A cuddle, a kiss, a wink, and a grin.
I have $850, $860, $875
For the quilt that is stained from all the times that she cried
While praying, while sad, while full of pure bliss
A grin, a cuddle, a wink, and a kiss.
$915, that's where we're at,
But we can't put a price on something as valuable as that
That lady, those hands, hands that never muddled
A wink, a kiss, a grin, and a cuddle.
Once, twice, sold, the the lady in red,
Who takes the quilt, and runs her fingers across the thread
A tear falls from her eyes, as she began to blink
A kiss, a grin, a cuddle, and a wink
I won't need stitches without your kisses I'm not a crybaby like Shawn Mendes
I'm going to go to the club and form friendships
Meet beautiful girls and leave with many numbers
Forget writing a whole chapter, you're barely worth one verse
You killed what we had so never again will you live in my heart
Plenty more fish in the sea and I won't fear them just because I got bit by a shark
I'll laugh and smile when you try to take another snap at me
You cheated, but get mad now when another lover captures me
Getting ridiculed for winning with someone else from the one I was losing with
The one who cheated on me has the nerve to say I'm moving on quick
I'm glad you're no longer in control of my heart as you were abusing it
You can keep talking but everything you say I'm muting it
Imagine thinking I won't survive without you
I've never been happier I won't even cry about you
My heart is free from a toxic person who wanted to crush it
There are a lot of females who will be happy to take care of my heart and love it
I won't need stitches without your kisses I'm not a crybaby like Shawn Mendes
I'm going to go to the club and form friendships
Meet beautiful girls and leave with many numbers
Forget writing a whole chapter, you're barely worth one verse
my shoe shot into the air
like fireworks — polished black
my sailor-sock in shock
Japanese sailors in stitches
3/6/2020
My fingers are cold.
My heart is broken.
There is just some things that i was hoping i could say to you.
Because now we're through.
And there's nothing i can do.
To get back to you.
Because they've stolen you.
And now, i lay here in tears.
Without you near i've lost control of the weel and i'm lost on this long road.
There was no more deciet.
I followed your wishes.
Only to be torn by you and heald together with butterfly stitches.