Best Wardrobe Poems
She had a bit of a problem
Of which she was reluctant to disclose
Her wardrobe was full to overflowing
With a wild array of clothes
She justified this behaviour
By insisting it was cheap stuff
Purchased from the op shops
She couldn't get enough
Because it was so cheap
She'd buy three things instead of one
Her shirts multiplied in dozens
And her dresses by the tonne
The day eventually arrived
The wardrobe door would close no more
The drawers were overstuffed
Things were piled up on the floor
Clearly drastic action was needed
And obviously, without a doubt
This would require some discipline
And red wine to sort it out
Hours later, knackered and dishevelled
She had reduced her clothing stash
She promised never to repeat this mistake
And instead save herself the cash
She staggered to the op shop
Weighed down with bags of gear
But naturally, there was a sale on
And really, she had nothing left to wear...
Stereotyped,
The lady-like wife
That unwritten law
Of domestic life . . .
I want to dust in the nude
And cook wearing leather
I want to be very crude
With one pink feather
I want to pant down the ‘phone
As you smile at your boss
I want to scream loud and moan
Bite, scratch, claw and toss
I want to know there’s still passion
For your lady-like wife
Not contentment but hot fire
In domestic life
You know I love you my darling
So much more than the cat
Just climb up on the wardrobe
We haven’t tried that!
In winter my whole body a
wardrobe.
Dated:
13.12.13
What about animal dress code?
I do not believe that nowadays people should dress in a way
that expose their bodies like animals__both young and old!
And I am so disturbed,after all these years of civilization.
When I walk down the streets,only to see my brothers and sisters
dressed in half naked way__
Well,man and woman should not dress in indecent clothes
to be respected in society__
Can we have proper dress code from Mister fashion designer?
Oh,Yes,as an independent thinker,what must I stock
in my wardrobe?
Do I have the guts to distinguish between the lines of
decent and profane dressing?
Why dress in a manner that makes people get attracted
to your nudity?
Like a bolt of lightning it did come
From the top of the hill near the Murray gum,
Wilbur's wheeled wardrobe built for speed,
Racing past where the dairy cattle feed.
There was Wilbur straining at the wheel
As he drove the clothes hanging cupboard with such zeal,
Modified by Wilbur with such inventive design,
Hoping to survive the steep decline.
Wilbur's helmeted head bobbing up and down
As he headed down the hill towards the town,
Perhaps by luck, or maybe divine providence,
He missed the posts and wires of the farmer's fence.
The hill flattened out as the decline unwound,
Wilbur coming to a stop in the middle of town,
Twenty kids came rushing to honour the feat,
Of Wilbur's wonderful wardrobe and the hill he beat.
There was an old tranny named Joe
who dressed as a nun and a 'ho',
both sides of the Bible,
both sacred and tribal,
he didn't know which way to go!
The Empty Wardrobe
I look in the empty wardrobe
And it looks so bare
I remember all of the clothes
That used to hang in there
The coat you wore to walk the dog
And the one you wore for best
The hat you always loved to wear
I said it looked like a bird’s nest
The blouse with lace you wore for weddings
And the jacket made of tweed
The numerous scarves of many colours
How many did you need?
Your faded wedding dress
That you hoped one day I’d wear
The veil to match hung with it
And the pearl slide for your hair
The purple dress you used to wear
When you sang in the youth choir
Strands still remained on the collar
Off that faux-fur stole you used to hire
Your pleated skirts of navy blue
Were folded in a drawer
Belts of matching colours
Hung inside the door
I look in the empty wardrobe
And think of what’s no longer there
And I can still picture you
In the clothes you used to wear
When did red stop being my favorite color?
When did I fall into the trap of middle age?
Black is slimming
More appropriate
Hiding from the light
Blending in
Falling into the shadows
Safe from judging eyes
Dark closets full of dark fabrics
Sensible shoes, professional suits and matching bags
Following the rules
When did I start following rules?
I need to find hue I really am again.
Blest with garments of varied hues and shades’ assortment
I practice an organized monthly color-scheme adornment…
January is greeted with vibrant green’s life-oozing zest
along moss, emerald and mint scarfs’ accenting best.
With blue motif of azure or cerulean in February
cyan-printed dresses match aquamarine-look accessory.
Pink for March as well as old rose and fuchsia of no doubt
makes watermelon lace with pomelo ribbon stand out.
April shimmers in yellow, gold and sunshine glow
showing skirts of mustard, canary with lemon flow.
May has cream and beige for modest apparel bliss
as blouses are pleased with flax and vanilla emphasis.
June delights in violet midst lavender and lilac beauty
allowing use of purple and magenta bags, surely pretty.
Cheering July onlookers are different black-speckled masks
parading shoes, leather or so-called ebony in mobile tasks.
This August* presents belts of bronze, cinnamon and brown
while wearing coffee or chocolate shawl without frown.
Orange awaits September with tangerine or amber trends
preparing handkerchiefs of carrot, squash and yam blends.
For October that highlights charcoal, ash, and gray
ready to be added is silver to my faith-anchored fashion-array.
November features raiment** that’s white or off-white
together with pearl, ivory and cotton polka dots on sight.
In December is red, alongside scarlet or maroon’s joyousness
with crimson and ruby attire, thanking God for His bountifulness.
*Next year will be another color-schedule.
**Revelation 3:5 He that overcometh, the same shall be clothed in white raiment; and I will not blot out his name out of the book of life, but I will confess his name before my Father, and before his angels.
August 21, 2021
7th place, "Kaleidoscope" Poetry Writing Premier Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 8/23/2021.
There was an old tranny named Joe
who dressed as a nun and a who',
both sides of the Bible,
both sacred and tribal,
he didn't know which way to go!
in god's dark wardrobe
like a ghost of a nightgown
a see-through soul glows
What a poor dateless chap was young Chad.
Dumpster fires were the clothes that he had.
Pants that hung in the back
showed the world his azz-crack
and not one single shirt wasn’t plaid.
There was an old tranny named Joe
who dressed as a nun and a ho',
both sides of the Bible,
both sacred and tribal,
he didn't know which way to go!
Clothes in a wardrobe still so neat
Your favourite fragrance makes it so complete
A task set without choice for me
To sort your things not so easily
The jacket you wore for colder times
And the hat for your head for sunnier climes
Are all hanging in their place
Ready for you to wear for your worldly face
I open the drawers in your bedside chest
Where there are things you treasured best
Here’s your watch still ticking away
And pictures of us on Christmas Day
I pack them up or give them away
Mementos of the life you left today
Each one a memory of you
A smile for you now to remember too.
© Paul Warren Poetry
A little forthright butternut fruit cake was sat on embroidered picnic rug. Basking in the sun whilst chatting to a jam pot. Beyond the knitted trees of custard lays the artichoke of buttered llamas. To decipher a stone is to roll over sixty three times down a mountain but mountains mumble making musical mantras and who would dare to dangle off a ledge wearing a seventy kilo saucepan hat? Sandcastle secretions of a purple hue hide the frolicking worms in sombreros. Never ever bark at kettles or neigh at the toaster for this carries as much weight and power as throwing oneself up into the air wearing a rubber ring and landing on the roof of a nearby hotels. Hotels are neither hills nor heaped hummus humps. And no riot of silver backed whales ever really formed in a bubble bath for they prefer the jacuzzi at this seasonal point. Icy glowing embers in a carpet of fish scales are sure to entice cardboard curtains. The wide footprint of a semi aquatic reindeer stands true in sands despite tides. Toads can swim over eighty miles down roads and the roads are arenas of giant mildew which call out greetings to sessional groups of fox musicians who gather with rabbits in the hedgerows to entertain the otherwise grey flows. Inverted igloos ingesting ivy ignoring inky island inhabitants. Hahaha the horses are Trapezing with the square cattle. Hahaha leg handed left wing mirror winking at a cone line. Xxxxx atmospherically z z z z z