2025.1.29
Hippy horay, it Chinese New Year Day.
Every Chinese, believes they are one year older,
They may not be necessary wiser.
Last night, they went to sleep,
With full of food in the fridge.
Wearing the new pyjama or night gown in bed.
Lot of fresh money notes in the purses or wallets.
So when they wake up in the morning.
Believing, every day for the rest of the year,
They shall always have food to eat.
Clothes to wear and money to spend.
They shall wear red or bright colour at least.
They greet family members and their love ones,
The nicest words and wishes to one and another.
They young and single and unmarried members,
Happily receive red packey or AngBao from parents,
Sweet lollies and cakes shall be offered.
I am in my pink floral pyjama,
All I wish was a happy and healthy life with no drama.
Happy Chinese New Year for everybody including me.
Categories:
pyjama, celebration, family, happy, health,
Form: Free verse
Cutest pink panty,
With navy polka-dotty
Pyjama tanky.
Categories:
pyjama, clothes,
Form: Senryu
a serendipitous day and a half
when the big bang happened
everything called to being
from some singularity
barely anything wasted
except you and I
on pyjama days
when it’s sunny outside
you said you might get dressed
if it happened again
I’m afraid I believed you
Categories:
pyjama, day, home, life, love,
Form: Free verse
White Ted looked flat;
that hair and pyjama bed smell.
She was getting heavier
My bleary eyes trying not to sleep.
Bone protruded from flesh,
blooded the seat and gearstick;
leaning in best I could
to cannulate, set up drip by torchlight
as Firefighters started cutting.
She smiled and tightened her grip;
I kissed her forehead
still feeling the bitter cold.
Fluorescent coat bulkily hindering
as cracking metal sheered;
dressing the open bloody carnage.
Suddenly toast popped up,
"Have a good day at school" I said,
fighting my tiredness.
The mangled wreck still lingered
as I put my daughter down,
heading for bed, another shift tonight.
Categories:
pyjama, daughter, family, jobs, life,
Form: Free verse
A Cup of Coffee
A cup of coffee
What a nice aroma!
I inhale the lessons
To exhale the drama
Sitting with a book
Seeing foresight in panorama
Every sip is savory
And comfort in pyjama
Pending tasks popping
With it, I put a comma
Humming, smiling, dreaming
I've reached to Alabama
Blinking eyes on people
Settings my views of chroma
Oh! A Cup of Coffee
Created a huge melodrama!
_Sakina T. Zaki.
Categories:
pyjama, cool, day, environment, food,
Form: Rhyme
These are our Iso games,
Shall we ever wear our bras again?
The girls are swinging loose and free,
An Iso form of liberty,
Can we overwalk our family dogs?
If we keep home baking, we'll look like hogs!
I ponder on cooking baked beans,
If a supermarket is what it seems,
Yes, we all work at home,
A pyjama army, never alone,
These are our Iso games,
Shall we ever wear our bras again?
The bowels have moved, all the chickens stayed,
As an old Irish Einstein would say.
Signed: The whole Corona human race,
Yes, these are our Iso games!
Categories:
pyjama, games, giggle, humanity,
Form: Free verse
Take a left right here, what kind of direction is that?
Maybe you mean back up or get off the lawn of this habitat
Do you hear that siren
It's the boys from the asylum
That pyjama attire most certainly will be a match
Categories:
pyjama, emotions,
Form: Limerick
Vermont in the summer
Road trip for the girls
Rushing around to see it all
And not miss a thing
Quaint places galore
Galleries and shops
Restaurants and cafés
Panoramic vistas and mountains
So many photos to snap
Like young giggling girls at a pyjama party
Euphoric and loving every moment
Not taking a second for granted
Feeling free as teenage girls on the loose
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on February 5, 2018
Categories:
pyjama, adventure, friend, friendship, fun,
Form: Free verse
A twirl in a whirl or a curl is neither a six foot pie or a girl. Spinning wire into gold is not wise. And dancing is best performed to giant octaves. Tissue boxed coverage can be very flakey. Flammable even. So don't blow noses in a bush measuring over an acre. Oh look out. Ten inch forks are wobbling over there. Discussing no blade in a shaded glen. Sweating in a pyjama top in a blacked out car on a moonlit drive. How quite romantic. When dancing with a twig do not attempt star jumps for you might fall over and this would make the thistle bush laugh. Radius of radishes are always hidden in the clouds. A sure beacon for a golden god. Lavish lollipops licking lakes. And the might of the cast iron toothbrush is often resembling a small pin. Paint that then smile. Haha and haha then no hahaha but a haha. Pontifical power points playing pleasing piano. Xxxxx montages mooing. Xxxxx adudicational z with a huge p y q. Z
Categories:
pyjama, basketball, betrayal,
Form: I do not know?
It is a Sunday,
And like every Sunday,
I am spending one seventh of an unwritten eulogy perching my pyjama ridden backside on
gory grandma petals,
That engulf me.
It is all I can do to make my lungs perform their only function,
Their ins and outs catch in my throat like bee stings,
Which is all that keeps me awake.
Before me,
Flashes of dead stars and shiny cars,
Seep from box to brain,
In an acidic, off green shade of motivation.
The door is open just a crack,
The light is a fly,
Sucking the blood from the corner of my eye.
I should open the door,
Let light drown me in yesterday's sentiment,
Or close it,
And sink into sofa creases.
But Sunday's glue keeps me here.
Categories:
pyjama, depressionme, light, light, me,
Form: Free verse
FEELING THE COLD
Starting to feel the cold
After all these years
Always had warm hands
Wife called me hot water bottle
Her personal nuclear reactor
She has cold feet? cold hands?
No problem - just plaster them onto my bare flesh
And in a minute she’s warm
Have always slept with no pyjama jacket - just too warm -
Window open, she’s freezing, I’m feeling cosy
But after all these years
I’m starting to see her point of view :
It is cold sleeping with the window open.
Coming home, minus-twenty and a breeze
Used to be “refreshing”
Now it hurts my sinuses.
Eyes water now in response to
Snow shot in by the wind
Don’t make snowballs to throw at her
With bare hands any more.
God help me, it’ll be long-johns and
Woolly cardigans next.
Categories:
pyjama, husbandwater, water,
Form: Narrative