Plaids Poems | Examples

orange is my delight

I am a girl, and pink is okay
but orange is my delight
Give me orange or nothing at all
I like it in polka dots, plaids, and paisleys
Stripes are not my favorite, but I would take stripes
If it included the color orange

If you want to give me a combination of colors
I lean toward the preteen magazine covers of the early seventies
orange, pink and yellow would be the perfect choice for me
I would take them in a couch, throw pillows, or a new car.
If it is a car, please make it a Volkswagen bus.
I am a hippie.

Sheila is a Designer

Sheila is a designer
Mixing plaids, stripes and florals
Marrying odd colors
Her finished rooms look chic and polished
When I do the same thing
It’s a messy hodge podge of ugliness

I Have Clipped my Shopping Antennas

I have clipped my shopping antennas
No more garage sales, resale shops or flea markets
I cannot be trusted

I am a lover of shiny things, odd things, weird things
I cannot resist buying sequins, rhinestones, glittery mirrors
I am a lover of things

I drag home all kinds of stuff
With feathers, plaids, Mexican embroidery
I am a lover of the outrageous

The stranger, the better
I like the oddities others often overlook
Much of what I buy never makes it out of my car trunk
Stored for years in sacks until I donate them to another resale shop.

U might KNOW OF ME BY MY WEAR-

You might know me by my wear;
Sorely I stand before me, yet the me not really me, yet surely be
if you were to open door therein is hangers full of clothes that’s just there...
Shirts, cargo pants as well as regular pants by George ™
Matching flora, colorful plaids;
Hanging on hooks and Newspaper Boy Caps™ and Tams™;

Love me some denim jeans and cotton 
Light blues, pink, reds, browns, tans blacks and white
Flowered, neon, purples and violet, yeah still in them 70’s seams
My closet full of also Walmart George Wranglers™ and Levi™
Mustn’t forget them T-shirts by TEMU™
You might know me by my wear


7/15/24
For Sartorial Self Portrait Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jaymee Thomas

They Speak of Fat Quarters

they are talking about fat quarters again
if you don’t know what they are, let me run this by you
thimble, needle, Elna, Singer, Brother, White
Could they be referring to astronauts?

If you think that, you are not a quilter
Fat quarters are blocks of fabric sold together
Could be plaids, polka dots, stripes,
But they have something in common, maybe color

There are a variety of quilt styles too
Log cabin, crazy, appliqued, wedding ring.
If you do not speak the language, get out of the sewing room.
We are here to quilt and gab and eat some lemon pie.

Autumn Is Loving Herself

School has started, the plaids are walking in place
We are cheering for our football teams
Loving mustard colored gourds and pumpkins
Autumn is loving her power as we decorate

Rudolphs Selfies

Rudolph wanted to look prettier, so he asked his elf to help.
The elf jumped straight down from the upper toy shelf.
Did you want to wear stripes, plaids, polka dots or what?
Sounds good said Rudolph, who liked the elf’s happy thought.

Elf decorated Rudolph who looked fabulous enough to take a bow
He did not want to carry the sleigh, for he was now a wow.
Santa stroked his ego, saying they could not go without him.
So Rudolph went, but he took selfies all over, at every chimney-chim.

Teen Magazine 1965

teen magazine was popular in 1965 when I was thirteen
mom had Better Homes and Garden, Redbook and Women’s Day.
it was only right that my identical twin and I would have Teen.
mom’s magazines were about housekeeping; ours were about fashion.

we all wanted to grow up and become Sally Field or Tina Turner.
the Beatles shocked our parents on the Ed Sullivan Show.
folk singer mama cass’s  voice and looks were known to all of us.
we were listening to the Beach Boys sing about California girls.

Los Angeles teen movie stars showed off mop-tops and Twiggy cuts.
daisies and yellow happy faces were sprinkled lavishly throughout.
subtle hints were showing us what to wear.
hip huggers and bell bottoms were in; plaids were out.

teen Magazine teamed up with Dick Clark’s American Bandstand.
together they taught us a bunch of dance moves.
the Loco-motion, watusi and smashed potato to name three.
our super models were Twiggy and we loved Sonny and Cher.
.
now we knew how to dress, how to dance and what to eat.
our favorite teens were advertising things we needed to be groovy.
we were eager to follow their lead, not having our own identity yet.

Phat Argyle Cat

Phat argyle cat so furry and fine
Your diamond plaids are right on time
In pink and gray, you may simply dine
On kibbles and bits, chased down with kittish wine.

Orange Yellow Pink Bedroom

How do you like my new bedroom? She asked me.
It was bright cheerful, colorful, with wonderful touches.
I loved it as much as anyone has ever loved a bedroom.
Because it reminded me of my childhood, my preteen years.

It is an orange, yellow, pink combination of colors and fabrics.
The first time I saw these colors together was in the sixties.
Walking into this room reminded me of my preteen years.
The years when I discovered fashion magazines for teenage girls.

In the sixties, these magazines featured only two-color combinations.
Either the combo of orange, yellow and pink or a turquoise green blend.
For the first time, we had permission also to combine plaids and florals.
Paisleys, stripes and dots were freed up to live together too.

I Run From a Sewing Machine

The daughter of a professional seamstress, I am a tactile learner,
I have to feel the possible fabric to make a decision.
If it is rough like linen or denim, I am not a fan.
I like flowing soft, pliable easy materials
Unless I am trying to sew them together
Slick and elusive, velvet, satin and silk fabrics are difficult to maneuver.
And you have to make sure all of the cuts are made in the same direction.

Shiny pieces with beading or rhinestones intrigue and interest me,
But I rarely wear them as they are stiff, hot and uncomfortable.
Plaids are a nightmare to piece together; worse than matching wallpaper.
My twin sister buys fat quarters and makes beautiful quilts.
Her luxury hobby is sewing, she spends hundreds of dollars on it.

I run from a sewing machine in every direction.
Homemaking was a chore, I wanted to take woodworking.
In highschool, my mother used to rip out most of my seams at night,
so I had to start over in the morning.
Mom wanted everything made out of fabric to be perfect.
She was a professional, but this discouraged me.
When I need to create I cartoon, paint or write.  I do not sew.

Shall I Make You a Jumper

The tartan plaids are passé’, the new young hip fabric designer said.
She brought out the bolts of her new fall line and I gasped with joy.
I had never seen such beauty on a plain brown background of wool.
I reached to stroke the material, loving the oranges, pinks and yellows.
This is so gorgeous! I told her. I am delighted with it! I love it; LOVE IT!
She was pleased. Shall I make you a jumper?
No thanks, I reluctantly told her. I am allergic to wool.
My fingers began turning red.

September Readies Us

September floats down from the trees in leaves
Piling up her yellows, reds, and browns
Squirrels scamper around the trunks of the oaks
Chasing each other, readying their winter antics

September brings cooler evenings, giving us hope
Sweaters and jackets are ordered, plaids are popular
School is starting; college freshman are away from home
There is eager anticipation and delight in the air

September readies us for football games and bonfires.
State fairs are over, carnivals are repacked up.
Pumpkins and cinnamon parade around in decorative fashion.
October is not yet here but there are whispers.

Touching Youth

what planet could this be for boys of ten
and then one hundred

movement felt, 
looking at the hardened grain
of hands caressed 
with fingers pressed against themselves 

absorbing stillness’ breath 
suspended in each air a pair 
of warm yet liquid-frozen thoughts 

captured 
then released with care

youthful power to devour light 
whose distance now 
becomes serene 

a slow suspended scene 
in the moment captured 

stretched like bubble gum or taffy

compressed 
into the thinness of a dime

time 
rolled between the fingers 

ridged and perfect soft 
wrapped 

as cigarettes unsmoked, 

moving miniature rolling pins
of skin like bread 
gathered sweet

and then, 

a fence to sit upon, a wall to scale
grains of surfaced roughness 
where the smooth compare 

the toughness of their skin
to skin a shin 

upon a polished youth 
with broken glass of bottles blowing

tins and rolls all gathered in
their stripes and plaids 
and paisleys worn - 

attempts to humanize 
collateralized machine

we all want out, sometimes, 

we all want in.

Matching

I learned, real young, when getting dressed – 
Make sure your clothes are matching.
To such advice, back then, not many
People were detaching.

Some colors clashed with others;
Plaids and prints would never click.
Though styles have changed, those matching rules
Are ones that seemed to stick.

Not everybody follows them – 
You know those certain types
Who strut around with polka dots
Worn right along with stripes.

I’ve got to give them credit,
For if fashion rules are broken,
It means an inner voice (though strong
And clueless) must have spoken.

• Short Plaids Poems
• Famous Plaids Poems
• Best Plaids Poems
• Read Plaids Poems
• Long Plaids Poems
• Plaids Quotes