Best Sweatshirts Poems
...dedicated to Juvie
We are in each other's arms, and dancing...
the lights are low, and the music is soft.
You perfume is so delicate, like a fresh
spring rain. We are cheek to cheek,
and in another world. A man tries to
butt in, and I shoo him away... no way
is anyone taking my girl away from me.
We take our seats, as I pull your chair
out for you. You say you have to go to
the ladies' room to freshen up, but you
look fine to me... a princess with her prince.
We dance some more, and I steal a kiss.
In your black cocktail dress you are by far
the loveliest woman there. The chandeliers
are twinkling in your eyes. "I love you so,"
I gently whisper. "Hold me close!"
We leave early... I open the car door for
you, and make sure you are comfortable.
When we arrive home we rush into the
bedroom. You slip off your dress, and I
get out of my tuxedo. "Scrabble?" you ask.
'Scrabble it is!" I reply. In jeans and
sweatshirts we sit on the living room floor.
You beat me hands down! I ask you if you
want to play again and, sleepily, you say no.
"Let's go to bed and cuddle!" you suggest...
and so we do. The perfect end to a perfect evening.
Yesterday she left , warm and sunny ,all pleasant and funny
Spend some time with me she said, for soon I will leave
I lingered many months, my season ends , I will come again so don’t bereave
Gone are the long summer evenings full of crickets ,cicadas and fireflies flickering light,
Blinking their secret codes, mysterious and magic , in plain sight
Marking time with the pale yellow moon passing thru starry fields of dark summer nights
Fall sweeps in, proclaiming loud and clear, the death of summer is now so near
The seeds run full nourishing the land , acorns dropping ,and everything ripens,
Soon the trees will change their skin and like magic a new life appears
From vibrant green to orange, red and yellow
Long slow and rolling , dark green and pale ,the waves tamed and mellow, carry their lament
Carrying a sharp edge the cold ,damp wind brings sudden intent
Grey banks of clouds, long and low stretch to the horizon with their rainy content
Soon Jackets and jeans ,sweatshirts and sleeves will take their rightful place ,
Layer upon layer will I make of bare legs and chests that were openly seen
The deserted beaches , falling skies, pale and pink, all proclaim the long rest is now at hand
Painted pumpkins all in a row dot the land with orange and black
Mister owl haunts the night in his favorite wood on wing and nightcap
While lingering over bare earth and frosted fields of yellow corn and golden ripe wheat
Couples and lonely people ,walking silently, hand in hand, hurry back to their retreat
And sailboats huddle close together on dry land almost within reach and wistfully watch the sea
And I will sit near a warm glowing fire, book in one hand, sipping hot cocoa or tea
Rustling through the auburn, yellow and burnt orange leaves
holding up my little girls first flight with her new princess kite
blowing softly across my cheek and through my sand brown hair
bringing with the smells of autumn
the bonfires on a crisp October eve
marshmallows melting chestnuts roasting
fresh apple pie baking in Gram's kitchen
I can hear sweet whispers tapping on my shoulder
along with the children jumping in leaves
playing chase, sweatshirts all strewn on the lawn
grass stains on knees, dirt on their faces
wouldn't have it any other way
I feel the breeze begging
foretelling stories, giving fair warning
for harsh times are ahead
when all we see
when all we cherish
will wither off to bed
As your gentle winds drift aimlessly with grace
My mind rides along soaking in the beauty of this place
Shortest day, longest night
Celebration of light
Glistening ice and snow
Temperatures low
Bare trees
Ponds freeze
Dress warm
Long sleeve uniform
Cardigans and sweatshirts
Goodbye mini skirts
Silk and wool
Indoor pool
Soup and stew
Don’t misconstrue
Wish Bread
Glaze spread
Cinnamon and cloves
On stoves
Ice skating
Snow tube inflating
Snow skiing
Snowboard leaping
Snowshoe wearing
Spectators staring
Hope, intentions, and new year
Celebrate and cheer
Yule brings hope of life
Robins and wrens in strife
Red, white, green, and gold
My, it’s cold!
Vexation seeps through sighs
As the pen finds comfort
Sharing the same story
Nonsensical pretty boys
With smoke cloud habits
And bloodshot ponderings
Vaunting on their
Newsworthy delinquency
With incessant metal bar consequences
Promulgating in the same breath
they’re gaining
New ground
Breaking the cleanse
Of poisoning
Their liver
And feeling the linear
Coldness of a countertop
On their nose
With a half glass of water
In a ring of loneliness
On their nightstand
The gulp of insomnia
Rudely digs its hook of candidness
In your empathic being
Melodramatic memories
Of empty dinner table
Upbringings
Spending school nights
Placing cigarettes
In plastic bottles
With front porch
Heart to hearts
With their second self
Pulling the sleeves
Of sweatshirts once borrowed
Over tattooed knuckles
Shivering against the disbelief
That loyalty in this town
Is only face to face
Rehashing
first heartbreaks
With the outlook
That mistrust follows
Demons
That look just like you
The way you
Introduce yourself
With skintight beliefs
Low cut distractions
Met with
Amorous disposition
Abrade their thoughts
Of you from tantalizing
To discomfiture
And their ears
Can’t handle
Opprobrium especially from their friends
When you would
Put fingers
In yours like an obstinate child
Just to keep
Looking at them
With oblivious blissful daydreams
Even if you were
Stumbling drunk
Out of their broken front door the night before
After learning
They sent flowers to someone else
Like a man with his paramour
Leaving your existence
In a blighted state
Surrounded by empty walls
For
They
Took it all
But don’t worry
The guilt of breaking your heart
Is easier for them to swallow
Than the nausea
Traveling up their throat
With the spew of your adoration
Child-like enthusiasm at Christmas time is not easily duplicated.
Hearty laughter surrounds a family reminiscing about other Christmases.
Rich pastries, cookies and candy only found once a year decorate a table.
Imaginative glimpses of future Christmases are in the forefront of newlyweds
Santa Claus cannot overshadow The Son in the homes of the reverent
There are Christmas headbands, sweatshirts, necklaces and earrings bringing joy
Many people are working to bring cheer to the needy, sick and homeless
Angels decorate Christmas trees and church pageants on both hemispheres
Sharing and caring in a Good Samaritan way make this week truly special
My bench provides a perfect view
Of people on parade.
I love to watch each passing person
Artfully displayed.
Some taxi yellow hi-top sneakers,
Jeans with ripped-up knees,
Tie-dye sweatshirts, neon caps
And college-boasting tees…
A toddler on a scooter
With a helmet rosy pink,
A couple on a nearby bench
With wine in cups to clink…
The dog folk pulling leashes
And the bikers blasting rap,
The nannies wheeling babies
Holding toys or in a nap.
A New York stew of humans
Makes the afternoon so nice,
The flavors so appealing
With variety the spice.
Across the ground the leaves are strewn
set down by rushing wind.
A multicolored carpet yellow, orange, red and brown
crushing crunchy beneath my feet.
A late evening walk cautious steps in the dark
under a pale moon and twinkling stars.
A chill drops down cold and promising
an end to autumn reign.
Decayed foliage wafts heavy musk
in the cool evening air.
Fully harbored memories dancing images in rising smoke
stacks of fires burn within.
Sensuous the cold embrace invigorating bodies unarmed
by hooded sweatshirts and fleece.
The ground hardens quick frost sets low on the grass
before the morning sun rise.
Pale and white the glowing ball breaches the horizon
as the north east wind races in.
From trees fall wild and set free the remainder
leaves of summer and fall
as autumn bids its last goodbye.
Miss High Heels
Out of the Honda, let off downtown,
Through gold revolving doors
Miss High Heels would quickly bound,
Take the elevator 20 floors.
In this short span of time,
Inside the doorway of another world,
Using her professional name,
Another Miss Heels would unfurl.
Outside the golden doors,
Jeans and sweatshirts she,
Inside the brass and mortar world,
On a corporate path she would be.
One day Miss Heels will come to know,
Which world is real and which is not,
In a little house by the side of the road,
She’ll find the values she'd forgot.
I am the undeniable expert of me.
Wearing Christmas sweatshirts in June sets me free.
I can be eccentric and fun,
Make terrific friends by the ton,
When I live my truth as I see.
It’s fall, y’all
And as the leaves
Change color, we
Put on long sleeves.
It’s time for socks
And sweatshirts zipped
So when temps drop
We’re well-equipped.
The air is filled
With pumpkin spice
And mums in baskets
Look real nice.
Go apple picking –
Heed the call
Of autumn’s treats –
It’s fall, y’all!
From sunup to sundown
it was indeed a weird day;
it seemed as if the sun rose
wearing dimming shades
and as if the wind had been
blown off course or locked out.
The bold-green leaf trees, hedges,
shrubs, and lawn grasses just stood
there motionless as if they were
aping their canvassed or woven cloth/
plastic counterparts that year-round
highlighted the locations of graves.
In the dimness of it all, even shadows
had a time with their shading reflections;
and the bi-polar tempt had fun teasing
t-shirts and sweatshirts with a strange
“lukeness” that was neither hot nor cold
nor warm or cool. A special Virginia trait!
The scary-like graveyard silence
of this weird lingering day was
pinged periodically by echoes of
hidden birds in trees and sometimes
the echoes of ducks in a distant pond;
it seemed as if no other sound had
the echoing energy to pierce the silence.
As this taunting tired day slowly faded
into the coming darkness of night, suddenly
I realized that nothing had happened to me
Throughout this weird incomprehensive
lingering day, and that my heart was beating
with a shooing rhythm of allegorical awareness.
This day of the week too had been one
that the Lord had made with his undying love
and had blessed me to be perpendicular in it;
thus, it became apparent to me that I need
to rejoice and be glad to be a part of another
day of God’s imaging shared beauties of life.
In gratitude, I now share this day with you
that like me, you too may understand that
although it may seem at times that God does
not give us what it is we want, he has never
failed to give us the things we’ve had needs for.
Mickey Mouse is as popular as ever.
So cute and round and ultimately clever.
Smiling from sweatshirts, shoes and socks.
Laughing at us from purses, belts and clocks.
If his name had remained Mortimore, would it still be so?
I wonder as I see his grinning face wherever I go….
Once again, it’s that time of the year,
A time to reflect and a time to cheer.
Fellowship with the people here,
Embrace the moment near and dear.
The holiday festivities are upon us,
Holiday themes will soon surround us.
First with variating colors of the leaves,
To snow covering various naked trees.
Everyone has their favorite season,
Each one is different for a reason.
Some love the season for a sport,
Other’s it’s only the weather of course.
As the fall season experiences revival,
Sleeves and sweatshirts return in style.
The main sports’ that many have missed,
Have returned and are on top of the list.
He was the best influencer in the world and he knew it.
In the neighborhood he was a star, an Internet hit.
Unconditionally loved his family; watched them sleep.
Had his large arms in every situation, no matter how deep.
He found the Internet one night when the others went to bed.
Logged onto Snap Chat and Instagram, and took photo of his head.
By a quartet to four, he had a following of three hundred and two.
He had followers now, so he added a video of himself too.
Daily he sneaked into closets and threw on clothes galore.
He wore sweatshirts and helmets, and dresses and more.
The checks started coming in like out of thin air.
Before he knew it, Godzilla was a flipping millionaire!
He shared his money with his family. Two kids and a dad.
They had a wife and mom once, but she had gone bad.
She tried to come back when she found out about the money
But by then Dad and Godzilla each had a new honey.