They printed a bootleg
Twin of me,
A knock-off stitched in pixels
Of Remnants,
It emulated my stride,
But the soul wasn't tied,
Just a shadow that ain't
Ever been free-
So I caught it slippun'
In the alley-light chant,
Patched together from borrowed
Glow,
Walkin' through corners
I ain't never trodden in.
It talk like me
But the delivery is glitchy
Moves like me
But the spirit is empty, hollow,
A Counterfeit clone
Trying to spend my name
Like loose change
In the wrong hands.
And when it tried to pass
As the real one,
I felt the half-rhyme beat
Kick back in my chest:
A twin made a fleeting in the
Dark of night,
A remix wrong, a stolen light,
It copies my flame,
But can hold my name,
Breaken' apart when failed
With what's right.
So I stood in my authenticity,
Watched that knockoff
Silhouette
Glitch at the edges,
Unravel at the seams,
Cause it ain't built from my
Breathe,
Ain't blessed by my walk
Ain't stamped by the Supreme Being
Will.
Just a Bootleg twin
Tryna link with my
Daylight,
But falling apart
In the real me.
Trees, adorned in Fall styles,
with branches wearing multicolor on their sleeves,
induce smiles.
How the leaves dance!
Patterns fluttering on their weaves,
entrance.
Fall chill -
the crimson leaves
thrill.
Trees adorned in Fall styles,
patterns fluttering on their weaves,
thrill.
Wanna know what's really gangster?
Underwear falling in romper.
New Born
By Frank Daub
Putting up the wash – Again
one wooden clothes pin gripped
tightly
in her lips. On toe-tips; blonde hair wind-whipped
dangling in her eyes.
The sun an apricot surprise
on the back of her legs.
All busy hanging clothes
and
Watching in the yard to see the baby lulling in the doze
Of May.
My perennial loving Guard.
Tears roll down
Sorry, sad soul
Tracksuit's wet
A dress will do
The style's good
Others will adjust
Two hours in her closet grew thin,
And her patience even more.
Each dress a "no," nerves start to show,
And her date is at the door.
She snags a sundress off the floor,
And sandals for her feet,
A quick brush through her hair,
And downstairs to meet—
Her young man, who looks up
To unabashedly stare.
A moment she’s frozen
With a "do I even dare?"
Then a smile and indrawn breath,
The boy is surely smitten.
The irony of her dressing escapades
Seems so perfectly befitten.
Ooh La La.
piety
you rarely see
coming from me
I’m naturally
narcissistically
disposed
my ego needs
a change
of clothes
.
well
sumwhut presently
pink
uh crimson even
az
flip float'did
hern
cheer'n
through ridicule
fanfare
cackle
''hey cheerleader
yuh yer
forgot
scantiez''
You thought you owned the night,
But the night owns you.
A shadow dancing in a borrowed light,
A ghost in rewound time,
A ghost in fading blue.
Rock and roll is dead from the start,
And you're all dead with it.
You've never contained anything more than this emptiness.
Rock and roll is dead from the start,
And you're all dead with it.
Your eyes are blinded by passion and conceit.
The leather jackets, the ripped-up jeans,
A costume party for a false dream.
You can’t resurrect what never lived,
A tombstone anthem, no love to give.
Rock and roll is inherently dead,
And you all are dead with it.
You’re dancing on graves, but the music won’t rise.
Only motley ribbons and smoke under neon skies.
Put a clothesline over my front steps
hung my sweaty athletic wear over there
Amazon delivered a package
placed it strategically, under that line
Porch thieves came and took just one sniff
~ on this one they all whiffed
A flashy robe doth ego wear
to hide its bumps and bruises
camouflage, distracts discerners
from its many ruses
A child realizes what’s beneath
is what to stay away from
Though we adults can never peel
an onion's layer of mystery
Thus, in the end, the final blow
when before the Lord, it must confess
it should have worn
~ a simple dress
July 28, 2026
Disrobing ego Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Grand apparel of pretty girls
Embroidered in floral designs
The embellished stones shine like pearls
On the edges of the hemlines
Alignment of the hand and eye
Handling the needle with much bent
Sequins added to beautify
Bring elegance to the event
An intricately crafted art
Perfectly fit as ethnic wear
With angelic charm, girls look smart
While prancing with a lot of flair
Tokens of happy maidens' dreams
Rich hues represent their new lives
Sparkle due to fallen light beams
Unique ancient pattern archives
Place: 8 th
.
well
respectfully when'yuh
miss
lean your
i'mean
thuh'um softly
iz
revealing
uh'lot (he uh'lump ')>
meant
Was it my fault? My fault that the wolf was stalking me as prey, walking my way, behind me?
My fault so much that I was fined?
As if what I was wearing signed ME, for this pain, for this rage barely contained?
"What were you wearing?" They ask, but does that matter?
The wrapper doesn't matter to the predator as long as they get to capture the prey, the food, soothing their moods.
So was it really my fault for the crime that occurred?
or because you'd rather blame the prey for the monster's mistake?
for the crime scene on the streets?
for the people talking while the wolf hides behind trees, waiting for his next prey.
The human heart is built to be bent
An organ meant to change and mend.
But in order to adapt and truly grow,
It faces storms and dark snow.
Like that time you fell off of your bike,
A childhood scrape, a painful spike
But the bruises fade, the crying ends,
And that won't stop the path you trend
Or when at sweet sixteen you find
Your first heartbreak that leaves you behind;
A dull uncomfortable ache
Yet one you know you’ll surely break.
But oh, the pain that cuts the heart deepest
Where mountains seem to be the steepest
The fear that you are not enough
To be yourself when life gets rough.
You wonder if this grief will stay,
Or if it ever goes away
But hear me now, you must believe,
This heavy pain will also leave.
People don't see the one inside,
The person that you try to hide.
So we are given the task
To strip away the heavy mask
Life doesn’t stop, it doesn't wait,
It moves beyond fate
This endless life we’re walking through
Is like a book of faded hue
Its a coloring book of black and white
Just waiting for a splash of light.
So fill the pages, bright and bold,
Before the final tale is told
Clothes Categories
Definition | What is Clothes in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
Related Poetry Forms
wardrobe, garb, regalia, attire, work, duds, rags, clothing, suit, costume, outfit, baggage, wear, gear, formal, raiment, dress, casual, sportswear, vestments, togs, garments, vesture, bedclothes, habiliments,