Clothing Poems - Poems about Clothing

Sits there and judges. How dare you mock me! Do you think I have time to perfect smocked sleeves? Turned down collars Frilly blouses Pleats wrinkle-free. You are redundant No longer of use Except as a doorstop Or in self-defence. I will not be cowed By your flat, grey face. I glory in chaos, Crumpled cottons and lace. I shy from the conservative Perfectly straight We will not have flatness Except on...

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Attempting introspection without being rude, I ask myself, "what's going on with this dude?", but is understanding really likely with a house of mirrors psyche? Subtle markers, clarity will betray - or do they point the other way? And which way is better and which way worse? Or is it just the opposite, or the reverse? And am I a wolf in the...

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I got a bra It is quite uplifting Can't see my feet Now I am tripping Walking down the street Men do really stare I also dyed my Hair a purple shade. My husband did not Notice, nor my grandson Whoa!! All those whistles I got walking home They don't know I'm Eighty, humped and old They just see the boobs Bobble as I walk alone ...

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The dresses of many a distant phase, the casual attire of black and white, the lumberjack shirts that were once, my craze. The hoodies that hide me, both day and night, the caps that shadow me from day’s sunlight. The leather jacket for boldness of face, the styles I’ve hid, for fear of losing face. 07.02.2024...

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I worry that my coat will murder me. Hanging on Banister’s Edge it’s a man lurking, dark. I’ve seen rows of killers shadowed and waiting, hidden in the ridges of the living room radiator, ready to pounce during a moonlit trip to the toilet. From my position in bed, a stool could be a gremlin hunched, the door frame a monstrous...

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May we be blessed to acknowledge all the wonders in our life that have, for us, thus far accrued… and to begin each day with a word of thanks… and thoughts of gratitude. Today I’m thankful for campfire clothing… because I shall never tire of putting on a jacket or coat that has absorbed the aroma and the memories of the fire....

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I was first picked up In a cast-off shop in Liverpool; Surrounded by racks of seasoned shirts Bearing names of old soldiers. “Draper” draped on an immature frame In a collage of brown and green, Overlapping and enveloping Any semblance of a past self. Baby-faced and militant, The paradoxical camo in an urban warzone. Slogans painted from shoulder to shoulder In pungent, nuclear-white bathroom...

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The air is so chock full and thick with irony It must be hard to draw a single breath inside Without choking on it and gasping for oxygen But then again at very least Both my beard and moustache have grown a little longer in the meanwhile But isn't that the point of irony after all It helps you rather not contemplate think...

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I When it comes to clothing styles, I'm afraid we pay & promote sinners II Once my wife wore a pants with those bare threads: revealed skin promotes sin ( thoughts) III Help me Jesus, with those near & dear, as to accepting but correcting. Help me promote what pleases You,for Thy Kingdom. Amen...

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March 4 Scripture Meditations Based on 2Samuel 1-4 Key Verse – 2Samuel 1:24 …Who clothed you in scarlet, with other delights, who put on ornaments of gold upon your apparel. MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR CLOTHING ME WITH YOUR DELIGHTS Thank You for clothing me with Your delights’ provisions While beautifying me with Your ornaments’ presentations So that I...

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You came to me. So gentle and kind. Soft fur and wounded eyes. You showed me your scars, and I showed you mine. It brought us closer, for I understood the black sheep. I tried to lead you out of the dark. Show you how to live in the light. I lead you out, though...

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He lies he cheats, He smiles He greets, He tells you he is a one woman man, He gives you nothing while giving another woman a grand, But keep in mind He says he is a one woman man, He steals from you after he borrows, He treated you like a queen but now fills you with sorrows,...

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I have stepped into a shadow. I am trying it on for size, taking it in here, letting it out there, lifting the hem. The task complete, I smooth a crease, adjust the lamp, and flick some leftover darkness into a corner. First published in Alba: A Journal of Short Poetry, Issue 35, Winter 2021 ...

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My favorite outfit, don't leave the house, yeah prisoner of the wardrobe, knows nothing of life... my favorite shorts, it is... well ventured... it has two holes on each side, but is cool and coquettish... Not intimidated by anything, attend any ceremony, is always friendly and festive, and there is none shame...!...

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Success is not a Capitalist Cheat nor an Old Whore that seduces the innocent Away from the door of Freedom Good Fortune is not a mere happenstance that unfairly favors the Wealthy It is the rain of daily sunlight Into the upstretched palms Of the embittered man Who can't take one drop more Of the sewage he calls Capitalism... But I understand... When one...

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