Long Knitting Poems
Long Knitting Poems. Below are the most popular long Knitting by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Knitting poems by poem length and keyword.
All Hallows Eve regardless
Not Easter or birthdays
Tenacity of critters
Got me swirling in a haze
They get into the bathtub
The sink or in the car
Lord knows just where they come from
But they haven't traversed far
So often I must rescue
Whether delicate or tall
Re-house them to the log-pile
As they can't ascend the wall
In shameless eight-legged tap dance
They weave and spin and twirl
Like death defying knitting
Timeless pattern they unfurl
Close up they're pretty ugly
But the beauty they create
Captures sunlight in the morning
Or a night time dinner date
I hope you have a lifetime
Knowing what it means to give
For I Love you, little critter
As you teach us how to live
CV
Happy birthday to me.
I shall have a wonderful day, today and always.
It is a significant day in my life.
the Western and Lunar Calendar both coincided.
As the day I was welcome to this world.
A mile stone of my life journey.
Thank God for blessing me.
With many surprises and less materials desires.
From normal appearances with low maintenance
To possess few simple talents.
From photographic memories with numbers and days,
To play many music instruments by the ears.
From being creative to artistic.
From analyzing problem to solving it.
With abundant passion of fighting for justice.
I love my life but loathe unpleasant surprises.
Which seemed attracted to me,
One way or another, lot of times.
It was so wonderful and I was blessed to meet A,
Who spent ten incredible years unconditionally loving me.
For the first time in my life, he put the 21+ candles
On a cake for me to blow on my birthday.
Now many years later, I still vividly remember,
How he was always there for me,
To take away some of my life's issues.
He never took advantage of me,
Despite, all of his life, days or nights,
He always loved women by his side.
Imagine this, at the age of 23,
His beautiful wife being the 13th woman in his romantic life.
He loved me with mixed feelings and unconditionally.
Whenever I hoverred my memories,
Surprisingly, there were times,
When I was completely alone in a room with a man,
Some how, none of them dared to have any inappropriate behaviours.
So, was I naive and unattractive, or being protected?
Now, counting on my blessing,
I seemed to have everything,
Except true love and romance.
Acquired, managed and disposed investment properties.
Enjoy walking, travelling, knitting, singing, and playing music,
Nothing in my life was simple and unique.
In every aspect, could one imagines,
With 6 men passed me by in my adult life,
I was proposed 5 times, engaged to one, and married another.
Gave birth to two beautiful children.
But never been kissed.
That was how romantic with my life.
Never mind. That is life and I will be fine.
[Poet’s Note : this is a wry autobiographical memory written in traditional pirouette verse viz. 2 quintains, line 5 & 6 repeat, which is the toe turnaround. I wanted to write a narrative of a weird syncopated vignette, when I was knitting a pink mohair jersey at the time of my imprisonment. I reduced the narrative to a pirouette. When in prison, one of my interrogators was knitting the EXACT jersey in the exact colour & exact wool ! ie. in the final analysis, (in retrospect) everything in human life can be reduced to a pirouette, a turn-around dance ! ]
knitting a pink jersey
mohair with cables fine
to process flying thoughts
political activist
south africa turmoiled
south africa turmoiled
security police
came with casspirs and cuffs
interrogation chamber
police knit jersey pink
~~~~~~~~~
.................. L I L O
Y F Y V
M H E M G E
F O R E V E R E T E R N A L
L E N O R E L E N O R E
E N T W I N E D E N T W I N E D
Always with my HearT I Always with true Feeling
Love You, my Dearest WIFE ALWAYS with Emotions
My Love grows like an oak My Heart beats for YOU
Mighty and E v e r l a s t I n g MY TEARS are Real
YOU are M Y STRENGTH Yet My Heart still Aches
FOR YOU LIVE in ME Though You live with GOD
ETERNAL B L I S S YOU wear the gown of Angels
INFINITE P U R E YOU carry my Heart in Yours
You grow in my heart EACH and EVERY Day
The LOVE grows and I am at Peace KNOWING
As LOVE Grows In my BROKEN Heart
Constantly Knitting cracks and Fissures
My Dearest Beloved Tenderly Mended
Repairing Loneliness My Wife Lenore
Angelically Smiles Eternally Loved
MY Only Most B E L O V E D
L I F E L E N O R E
Always F O R E V E R
YOU My Heartbeat
Are My S O U L
MY W I F E
One Breath
N e v e r
Alone
YOU
And
I
Knit one purl one, knit two together.
Drop a stitch, it runs.
Unpick, pick-up the loops one by one,
align them, precisely, nicely right,
on your knitting needle.
Get back to counting sheep to sleep
where you left off.
Knit one, purl one, knit two together.
Repeat to end of line.
Seams unseemly, jeans too loose.
Letting out is needed.
Stitch-picker to the rescue.
Pry and poke the needle in
and cut unseemly threads that bind
and hold the seams together.
But if it hurts, depends
on when you have your stitches out.
To pick up the pieces,
swivel and swing, parry and prise
those pick-up sticks in turnpike prickly stack,
red ones, green ones, blue and violet.
It's up to you to choose, the piece you want to lose
without jostling, moving or shaking any other piece.
For if it wobbles, ever so slightly,
your friends will notice
and you lose.
Bottle of Vodka, one knitting needle
We only sell knitting needles in pairs.
Of course, you do. All good things come in pairs.
Would you like a bag for life, save the planet.
A bag for life would be wonderful.
He lied, she thought.
But that was just typical of men.
She should show him the bag.
You said it was a bag for life.
But it’s not.
Look inside, you lied.
She sure didn’t feel good
Blood and blob
The Vodka did the job
Flush the lie
Now she could die
She didn’t die
Just cried
It didn’t help
Just the way she felt
Time moves on
Secret stays hidden
Tomorrow's another day
Just another day
But life is strange
He noticed she was heavily pregnant
Nice to see you’re still saving the planet
Yes, we all have to do our part
A bag for life
Treasured possession.
I have no rational faith
that I can remember,
much less with full-will to comprehend,
spiritual Beings as progenitors
of natural becomings
No faith in "God" as ProGenitor of DNA/RNA
naturally fractal
round orchestrations
evolving regenerate systems
for economically enlightened co-invested relationships,
or politically co-empowering compassion.
No faith in exhaling purgative decomposition,
reductive pathological Evil and Death analysis of
mindbody experience
without prior appositional, dipolar
healthy wealth of information,
fractal strings of (0) soul dialectical polymorphs
confluently optimizing neuro-sensory
win/win co-reception
and responsive experience of healthy regenerative
"EarthGod" is good
enlightened inhalation,
empowering absorption,
resilient ego/eco-consciousness
Peak Beloved Climaxing
Win/Win crowning
cooperative communication,
reiterating primal relationships of mutual-solidarity
positive/negative co-gravitational
re-connecting co-messianic intent.
I have rational bicameral faith
that we can each and all fully comprehend
ego/eco co-binary bodhisattva partnering consciousness
as EgoBody Yang
Positive-Left Thought = NotNotNegative-Right Feeling
EcoMind Yintegrity
restorative binomial equity.
Here, in this polymorphic timespace
metasystemic mindbody sacred place,
we may rediscover treasured wealth without walls
of cytosine-biocentric QByte/8-bit reverse hierarchical
+/(-,-) 0-binary, double-bound temporal/spatial
bipartisan dipolar apposition
normative liberating/conservational
passion/pleasure fractals
reforming eco-political historic knotting
herstoric knitting
resonant octave empowering sound frequencies
of Earth's green/blue/white/grey network crown
enlight/darkening seasonal neuro-systemic harmonics.
DNA health wisdom
leading toward our dual
EarthTribe her/history,
divinely humane
compassionate destiny.
Thee nonpareil Amelie Beth Harris-McGeehan
blessed honest to dog goodness her person doth bring
never could her brother wish upon NON GMO
(archaeopteryx, buffalo, chicken...) wing,
and genuine prayer anybody more a maze zing.
Many countless years before
our dear mother passed away four
plus eleven earth orbitz ago,
she voluntarily repeated more
times than I can remember "your
older sister possesses altruistic qualities."
The above words enclosed by this bloke
with double quotation marks, okey-doke
not necessarily the way mama spoke,
but yours truly took poetic liberty
without any intention generating impulse to choke
the harmless, nameless, and stateless writer
and literally went bonkers
while going for Baroque
for recognized virtue that recently woke.
Kinship towards angelic, fantastic, pacific anchor
understandable why her spouse did hanker
during their courtship to pledge his troth
to maneuver metaphorical
hook, line, and sinker as though steadying a tanker.
Innocence and naïveté suffused little boy
occupying body of aging long haired
pencil necked geek without gainful employ
and (and as a shy person without benefit
of powdered milk biscuits)
generally trended solitary
verses masing with hoi polloi,
nevertheless ofttimes relentlessly teased
bully me, I loathed treatment on par
with worthlessness linkedin with discarded toy,
thus gratitude prevails toward eldest sibling
(no matter just thirteen plus months older)
pseudo motherhood she did deploy
to ward off aggressive monsters.
I reckon eyes appreciation
matured into present thankful attitude,
now with mooch time to ponder and brood
how earlier in my life behavior childish and crude
methought meself as hotshot dude,
yet these days, I couch sincerity writing
one or another poetic endeavor
knitting words analogous to composing an etude
contemplative, intuitive, and ruminative mental food
for thought hoop ping to convey
honest to goodness gratitude
communicating reasonable rhyming message
(if yee be downcast dearly beloved sister)
delivering uplifting, kickstarting exalting mood.
5 in the morn, it is getting light
Winter's ending its long respite
Spring is upon us, daff's delight
Gone are the days we so dislike
Even folk's as unseen, reappear
Full of enthusiasm, full of cheer
The front gardens full of chatter
Time to discuss all that matters
Pets, lounging, in the warm sun
Come summer, the heat, no fun
Clean our windows and why not
Keeping eyes on wandering tots
Doors open, can smell the toast
Gran's knitting, she's engrossed
Gramp's away down in the shed
Garden aids, for the flower beds
Darn weeds come rain, or shine
Choke the flowers they entwine
5 in the morn, it is getting light
Winter's ending it's long respite
Song to love, song to listen and song to sing.
In life, Music holds a specific meaning.
In list of hobbies, Music at top to bring.
Knitting is carried on through maternal gene.
In this trend both my Grandma and Mom were keen.
Natural skill continuing from my teen.
Since childhood, Drawing - Painting : My recreation.
Simultaneously those are my creations
Not as an expert but I wish to mention.
Composed Drama being a story - Writer
As such, script writing became my hobby later.
Stage performance - Telecast displayed better.