Best Zippers Poems
I took a walk down Columbia Street
Back to the place where we used to meet
Where we played as kids until after dark
And hung out together up at Dutch Hill Park
Although alone, I could hear the sound
Of laughter coming from the merry go round
Sometimes we'd meet there in the early dawn
The dance hall, pavilion and the swings are gone
I saw those pine trees and I thought of you
And all the crazy things we used to do
Like sleeping out underneath the stars
Hanging upside down from the monkey bars
A swing made from a rope and an old tire
We baked potatoes on an open fire
Squirrel nut zippers and an RC coke
Transistor radio and we'd have a smoke
We walked in the woods and we climbed some trees
We scratched our faces and we skinned our knees
Never dreaming that it would ever end
If I could, I'd do it all again my friend
Those memories I have will never part
I carry Dutch Hill Park inside my heart
And all those memories of yesteryear
Heading back home now I shed a tear.
Categories:
zippers, childhood, friendship, life, nostalgia,
Form:
Couplet
Yes, you're one sexy witch, dear love, but now it's Halloween,
And I've a witchy tale to share, so keep your broom between ...
Five decades hence I knew the thrills of flesh, and did imbibe,
Yet there's but one that's apt to still pop up, let me describe:
It starts with just a tickled tip that twitches toward my toes,
As oft' can be a grandeur glitch, until what's grander, grows.
In dermal terms, my skin can squirm to feel infirmed and wet,
What fairer sexes call 'the glow', (we lesser-fair's call 'sweat').
Now when that glow has burst, I'm first immersed in finding you,
For you've the spunky junk to free the monkey from his zoo.
I'm damned if I can speak, my cheeks just bubble up with suds,
The things that hang or dangle, cursed to tangle with my duds.
I'm apt to find my fingers filled with zippers, buttons, snaps ...
And spouting things like "I love you", to fill the awkward gaps.
Those tickles turn to tingles and they mingle through an urge,
That brings our things together 'midst a single clinging merge.
Its fever gives new meaning to the old phrase come-and-gone,
And your sexy pose, (and fewer clothes), will always bring it on.
Now please don't fear, my vixen dear, when tickling has begun,
No stopping what is popping up, there's lots of hopping fun ...
The barrel of my kitschy gun has schemes it needs to hatch,
And when my love-lust itches, hon, it's you I aim to scratch!
Written and submitted on October 21, 2019
For the "Itch, Witch, Glitch, Or Twitch" Poetry Contest
Nina Parmenter, Sponsor.
Categories:
zippers, funny, halloween, humorous, light,
Form:
Rhyme
She was all that and much more
The child with the smiles and the braids
White dresses, friendly nods and compliancy
Muddy shoes, trees and cursing
Sent away from school and frowns
Cycling on one wheel only
Plastered with band aids
Quick glances in the mirror
Lip-gloss, eye-liner, brushed hair
Strapless dress and high heels
Stolen kisses in the dark of the alley
With that boy or that girl
Clumsily fumbling with straps
Or zippers
Hungrily searching not finding
Running away faster and faster
At the running track
Through the woods.
The girl with the curls and cap, and blowing hair
From her eyes
Refusing to look in the mirror
Refusing to face, face to face
Denying.
Multi-faceted and beautiful
The girl that didn’t dare to decide
And therefore decided to swim
Folded her clothes
Next to her shoes
Swam till her lungs were empty
And her heart full
And her eyes swam
Only when her body felt like loose pebbles
Held together by skin
She felt for the first time
She is all that and much more
She is beautiful, her head high
Sometimes she uses lip-gloss
Sometimes she climbs trees
She laughs soft, loud, teary-eyed, and often
She hugs tight and warm and infinitely loving
She gives love to him, her, and herself
Love her back, all of her
With gusto
***
Repost from September 2016
© Darren White
Categories:
zippers, beautiful, emotions, life, love,
Form:
Free verse
Driving through a small mining town
Angle parking in front of an old drug store
Memories flashed back to my childhood
Those days are gone forever more
Sitting on a stool at the soda counter
Large cherry coke for a dime
The place had its own kind of smell
A memory lost in time
Hamburger was more than worth the price
With a toasted bun and an onion slice
A metal Coca Cola ad hanging on the wall
For a nickel you could buy a red sponge ball
Fountain soda tasted mighty good
Floor was clean and it was made of wood
Get a prescription filled and something to eat
An ice cream soda was a special treat
They had Squirrel Nut Zippers and Mary Janes
Red hot dollars and candy canes
Good n' Plenty and crackerjacks
Magazines and paperbacks
Baseball cards came with gum inside
The owner flew our flag with pride
I looked to the sky and heard myself say
Lord, I'd trade all I own for yesterday.
Categories:
zippers, nostalgia, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
Slipping on tinkles ain't easy my boy
When zippers get stuck it can be a pain
The thing that I hold once gave me such joy
Now it's just leaky and leaves a round stain
Golden years my **** that's a silly name
Now it's really dangerous to go to bed
I tell you that stuff is a young man's game
She laughs quite loudly "you can't raise the dead!"
A little fast rubbing might do the trick
Perhaps if she tries, it will be worth while
I'm not opposed to a lollipop lick
Three small inches might grow into a mile
Everything worked but then my back went out
What she thought was joy was a painful shout
Disclaimer: No old people were hurt in the writing of this piece. It is also not meant to offend any "Sexy Senior Citizens". Keep limber my friends!!!
Categories:
zippers, age, perspective,
Form:
Sonnet
Yesterday was Button Day;
I somehow let it slip
Or maybe I just chose instead
To button up my lip.
Begun in 1938,
This date was set aside
To celebrate the crafters
Who keep notions stores supplied.
For think about your buttons –
Not those round ones, white and plain
But the myriad varieties
That sewing sites contain.
There are endless shapes and colors
And materials as well,
Most with little holes for threading –
Look real close and you can tell.
Why, the perfect style of button
Can improve a garment’s looks
And as fasteners, they’re easier
Than zippers, snaps or hooks.
Just don’t push somebody’s buttons,
Even one who’s button cute
For on Button Day (or one day late)
We owe them a salute.
Categories:
zippers, appreciation,
Form:
Rhyme
I’ve been asked why I would keep it,
Why I don’t throw it away,
This big box of fancy buttons.
They are of no use today.
In these days of fast and furious,
Zippers are the way to go.
When all is so tightly scheduled,
Buttoning buttons is too slow.
This pink one’s from the little dress
My dear mama sewed for me
When nothing could be store-bought
And my mama’s time was free.
These buttons are my memories
Of the years not long ago,
When pretty buttons were the fashion,
And all time was set on slow.
Written: 1/20/13
Categories:
zippers, memory, time,
Form:
Rhyme
There is a state of mind known as woebegone
In which one feels like an addict on methadone
The more one tries to feel upbeat
The more one suffers mental defeat
And the mind plays on like a gramophone.
8
The boys outside the bar appeared rapscallion
Their actions were downright reptilian
Every time a girl would walk by
One would let out a loud cry
Acting just like an overheated young stallion
8
There was an old lady from New Jersey
Who recently moved to Poughkeepsie
She met this old fart
In a local Kmart
And the two proceeded to get quite tipsy
8
Roger was smug and a bit of a grandee
Others viewed him as somewhat of a dandy
The girls giggled and downright snickered
Because they knew he sought entry to their knickers
But alas, with buttons and zippers he just wasn’t handy
8
Bobby was well known for his generosity
But also known for his excessive gulosity
He would take you to lunch anytime
But always state “what’s left over is mine”
And clean the table with the utmost ferocity
8
There was this old man from Toledo
That liked to parade around in his speedo
The old ladies would giggle
Watching his sagging butt jiggle
But it did little or nothing for their libido
8
There is this retired gentleman in south Buda
Who would like to vacation in Bermuda
But his poem book didn’t sell worth squat
Now he’s stuck with who knows what
As he reads travel brochures in his pad in south Buda
8
There is this Colorado guy in the Springs
Whose Windows computer does unusual things
The damn screen turned permanently black
So he went out and bought a new Mac
Now he doesn’t answer when his telephone rings
8
Categories:
zippers, funnyold, old,
Form:
There once was a time when you can say
unbuttoning was part of the foreplay.
Every single button was a step to reach
to a place they call garden of peach.
Unbuttoning each other was like an art
in a game which still now has few expert.
Now a days people do not have much time
and they quickly want to reach their prime.
With zippers there is a vast change in scene
I think you are getting what I mean.
In this game people have less time to play
zippers help them in that without much delay.
===============000===============
Placement;5th, February 2013
Contest:Buttons
Sponsor:Susan Burch
Categories:
zippers, funny, love, people, people,
Form:
Couplet
It started with a single thread,
something, someone once had said
something, for which I still felt dread
something, that I'd long thought dead
This thing, that would not leave my mind,
this thing, so mirthless and unkind
a mote in ancient history's eye,
a speck of dust to make gods cry
I stitched the horrid thing together
with fingers flying fast as feathers,
on fear and pain and shame and guilt
and soon, I'd made this patchwork quilt
It covered me from head to foot
a second skin; this horrid suit
and though it was the perfect size,
't was truly just a poor disguise
It stunk of hatred and revulsion,
self doubt and many more compulsions,
the ghastly scent drew clouds of flies
that follow close, when something dies
Rows of stitches that could be zippers
and dark red eyes just like the Ripper's,
a protruding pair of rusty bolts
to charge me with a million volts
A hideous and hulking brute,
all this work had now borne fruit
so now, 't was time to seek my mate
for surely, I deserve this fate
Legs now stiffened as if poles,
I lumbered like a long dead soul
until a crowd began to form,
their horror whipping to a storm
Armed with verbal pitchforks true,
the deepest hatred did they spew
and banished me with utmost haste
to a land of ice; this frozen waste
Where I now wait for one to follow,
this monster with a heart so hollow
to free me, or to end my pain,
just so, I may begin again
Categories:
zippers, freedom, heartbreak, imagery,
Form:
Rhyme
Sight of lightning, something to behold
Lighting night folds in tans and gold
Magical fingers illuminating sky
Vanishing zippers, blink of an eye
Showers begin, melting sugar, spice
Drips pelting skin, certainly feels nice
Dancing ballet, lovers admiring puddles
Foregoing rubbers, desiring warm cuddles
Licking streams of tears, salts rain’s taste
Ballet waltz, flicking droplets caress face
Blinking wet lashes, then dreamy surprise
Steamy gazes, lightning flashes brown eyes
Yes, enjoyable sight, winter’s dark morn
In formidable strength, thunderous storm
Without wonderous love, might be frightening
Yet shared delight, the sight of lightning
Love's natural storms knock off our socks
When lightning shocks like a jack in the box
Written 2/15/18
Contest: Describe a thunderstorm without sound
Host: Brenda Chiri
Categories:
zippers, light, love, lust, rain,
Form:
Rhyme
Today I tried on some pants,
the zippers shouted, "I cant's!"
So I sucked in my gut,
bellybutton's a rut...
Damn, fill the hole with some plants!
Categories:
zippers, funny,
Form:
Limerick
A bright light engulfs the room
and suddenly disappears
ushering a blazing essence
that abruptly evolves in the atmosphere,
buttons unlatched
zippers break loose
shirts collapses over skirts
flesh dancing in flesh
flesh devouring flesh
and impatient breath
whispering soft words in her ears.
Electrified
mesmerized
enraptured
emotions bathing in emotion
exotic moment intoxicated with fear.
listen carefully and tell me what you hear?
sounds thundering beyond steep mountains
doors hammering speechless voices
debris flying high in the air,
but they lie there firing on without fear.
Lights grow dim
and a mysterious sound chime in.
Pum Pum Pum
It must be the voice of an angel
walking up and down his gigantic chest,
kindling a soft fire that rips aimlessly through their ears.
It captivates their emotion
and enflame their burning passion.
dancing and prancing
skipping and dipping
sliding and gliding
they went to the extreme.
Eyes fixed in a steadfast motion
calculating the mysterious sound
chest pressing against chest
chest pounding upon chest
spilling tears of joy all over her face.
©2013 Christine Phillips
Categories:
zippers, change, kiss, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
Cornelia’s Red Vest
Cornelia Chipmunk wears a red vest
Without it she feels pos-i-tive-ly undressed
It has thirteen pockets and twenty-one zippers
And fastens in front with some Velcro-like grippers
These pockets can hold all kinds of odd things
Like shoelaces, pencils, and bright plastic rings,
Gum wrappers, pine cones, paper clips, too
Why, there’s nine fuzzy socks – 4 turquoise, 5 blue
Ribbons and nuts and bark from a tree
Some rocks, shiny buttons, a big purple pea.
She stacks them all up in the back of her nest
And goes to sleep thinking she loves her red vest.
Categories:
zippers, animal, children, family,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Jealousy
You make us slip into
suits of the children we once were-
with buttoned hearts
to our sleeves
Lips interlocked like
the sharp zigzags in closed zippers-
Skipping ropes of uncertainty and
playing hide and seek with our
buried insecurities-
We dig in the dirt until it
turns into a quick sand
where we are stuck and
our new shoes have been
damaged beyond repair.
You damage us beyond repair-
like broken chinaware
left on mommy’s kitchen floor.
We climb on mountains
of the piled past only to jump off-
and throw every ounce of confidence
qe thought we had
like damp rocks into rivers
-and the ripples in the water are the only proof that we ever loved ourselves-
Jealousy, you play the saxophone to our Blues
Jealousy, you ugly bruise
Mesmerizing purple and black hues-
Leaving us scarred from
falling off cloud nine-
Until our scraped knees
and ripped tees become a part of us-
and the ‘silver lining’ in the clouds
becomes nothing but
the adornment on the side of His mistress’ dress-
I must confess-
You make our demons rise
and self-hatred becomes a
bandage we cannot rip off-
Categories:
zippers, slam
Form:
Free verse