Long Crocheted Poems

We'd laid old George to rest the week before,
at ninety-one he now rejoined his wife,
no heirs to his estate, so one thing more
to do, and that's clear where he'd spent his life.
Downstairs had been quite...

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Negligent grooming habits unbridled

Apathy toward mine personal hygiene
i.e. relinquishing attention
linkedin with bare toiletries,
cuz I rarely spruced myself up
nor never maple leave
to cease being hard nut to crack
and rendered adopted
couture modus operandi
of yours truly shabby chic
figurative...

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On the spur of the moment forecast by eternal script in the stars

The Bard strummed his guitar and sung a ballade from heart’s lute 

Wild horses would not keep him away from her as he...

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My hair has always 
had a mind of its own
Stays doing whatever
it wants whenever 
it pleases
Just never bothers to do 
any of it, at my convenience
Will take its sweet time 
to grow 
When I'm most...

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This is about San Francisco,1967

Oh, yes that city had its own song!
It was a siren's call that sang;
"Here, Panagiota, is where you do belong!"
And my dearest poets, the sirens 
call was not wrong.

It sang a...

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  Dear grandma, 
       you were my litchi  s u n r i s e, 
  encasing stars in honeydew of  h e a l...

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Spider’s Rigging
“I had resolved on a voyage around the world, and as the wind
on the morning of April 24, 1895 was fair, at noon I weighed
anchor, set sail, and filled away from Boston, where the...

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Our mother was the prettiest mom in the room. Creative, multi-talented, always doing much more than what was average. We never had a store bought dress and ours were gorgeous with ribbons, lace, and rickrack....

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I guess I was left alone after sixth grade, wandering my way.
You believed in me, offered up openings and let me say
what I would and delve into the sun and world and stay
and even you...

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God Save the King! So echoed round 
the village halls, the pubs, the streets
the day our Charlie Prince was crowned. 
Homes decked with bunting, cake, and treats.

We celebrated with a rave, 
or knees-up, as my...

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When nylon nights
trade crystal colours 
in the stalls of nimble 
butterfly wings, 
I blossom as an 
irenic origami 
fervently fabricated 
with snowflakes of 
greedy gloom, 
stealing royal violets 
from the smokey estuaries 
flowing beneath the...

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Tossing and turning after a heavy economic loss
The shock shattered my peace of nights
Hugging my pillow tight with unshed tears
The sorrowful thoughts trudged haltingly
To my grandma's antique sewing machine
Lying impassively in the cluttered store
Guilt shook...

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f This table Could talk
By: Tom Wright
5/24/99

You say,
It's only a wooden table.
While in a sense, I guess that's true,
but being laden with character and warmth.
It's a table that reminds us of you.

I should think
that each...

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Winter morning light filters through lace curtains,
Reaches down, spills onto the corner kitchen sink,
Through east and south facing windows.
The glass jar, the scrub brush and pad in plastic butter dish,
A down-turned, empty yogurt container,
The pink...

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I bought my house for its mirrored walls 
in the master bath from which you could fancy 
yourself as a forties' film star, your flawless 
body soaking in billowing suds, or stepping into 
a glassed-in...

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grandma had always been a magical offspring of nature

collected herbs images mushrooms psychedelic support

tattoo in her mind rebellion independence and freedom

mescal beans at stakes looking like witches’ broomsticks

cultivated night shade a belladonna of sorts in...

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Creepy eyes staring 
back at me, I can’t help
but think of all the ways
you have killed me.
Half black
Half white
Split down the middle
made for kings
but I am a peasant 
girl who does not laugh

They call me...

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Sr. Faustina had prayed...
for souls to be un-decayed

her Divine Mercy crusade--
was for a long time delayed

her cool Diary -- forbade!
its publishers, too afraid!!

its devotees, all dismayed
but the Marians obeyed :)

its Message refused to fade,
and the...

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The discerning river moves
through the crowded valley woods
like an ancient crooked spine
beneath the vertebrae bridges of fallen trees
it's restless currents strum against strings
of rich green algae that cling
like eels onto polished stones
thrusting waves that curl...

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HOW I LOVE CROCHETING....HOW IT RELAX ME SO....
EVERY TIME I USE MY CROCHET HOOK....
I'M SOMEWHERE ELSE...FAR AWAY I LOOK...
WHETHER I'M DOWN IN WONDERLAND....
WHETHER I'M IN A SILK RED GOWN,LIKE IN OUT LANDER...IN SCOTLAND....
WHETHER I'M DAY...

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She came from that special tribe of women
whose hands have six fingers each.
Fingers that appear a blur of agitation
chattering amongst themselves 
in a language I could never understand.

9th Row: * Yo, K1, yo, sl 1,...

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If Tables Talked
By: Tom Wright
2/4/99

You say It's only a wooden table.
While in a sense , that's true,
yet it possesses character and warmth
much like unto It's previous owners.
I should think that as we dust and polish...

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*:**:**:**;**:**

this shining burst strokes early day’s first shade
illumination flashing all corners of galaxy’s face
and this my name was marked in womb’s white lace~~
upon Dad’s request ,as training general abroad, was made

it was Mom’s first time...

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Life without her
would never be the same
She was the loudest, proudest
most endearingly brash
sugar-sweet and pickle-sour
five-foot-two, force to be reckoned with
that anyone in Yell county had ever met

I confess
I was somewhat obsessed
with Miss Mavis' hair as...

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Denouement

The plot thickens broadens in plastered confused juxtapositions
over time there and then weaves tapestries lost unfound caught

Viscous tears dried out shed rivers searching oases oceans of love
squeeze suffering hatred solid misconceptions scripted resolve 

Crocheted dreams...

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