Not a single one of those days, so pleasant
Has been saved in its entirety
The fragmentary memory spares the present
From our salad days impropriety
I shimmered in every shade of green
Before blending into the dark
You’ve grown the roses I’ve never seen
In Kew and even in Regent’s Park
Was it a blessing I couldn’t notice
When I was young, time won’t tell
Has it flown away from both of us?
A sunray in the old wishing well
Reflects in the coin thrown ages ago
Your black shirts swing on the line
And the swifts cry flying fast and low
Bursts the wind and blows down the sky..
blue plaid flannel shirts
Illinois and iowa
winter uniform
Going through a closet,
I was quite surprised to find
Several shopping bags of t-shirts
That my son had left behind.
While looking at them, one by one,
I realized they portrayed
His entire growing up, through college,
Starting in first grade.
The school shirts featured P.S. 6,
Then Wagner Junior High,
With a special few from Stuyvesant,
Where high school years flew by.
Another group had characters
From movies or TV –
Pee Wee Herman, Austin Powers
And the Simpsons’ family tree.
There was Beavis, there was Butthead
And the South Park kids, as well
As World Series shirts and Yankees;
(We’re New Yorkers, you can tell).
Favor shirts from his Bar Mitzvah
Nestled near the travel trove –
Shirts from Scotland and from Israel,
Plus some places where we drove.
Then the final category,
From his favorite billiards hall,
Where the hours spent resulted
In those plaques upon his wall.
As a grown-up and a parent,
His collection’s surely grown,
But I love these sweet reminders
Of his younger self I’ve known.
This poem is penned to my sartorial self,
about wardrobe clothes on the rail or the shelf,
replica football shirts, too tight, too small,
threadbare cord trousers, I don’t wear at all,
now for recycling with all the rest,
while saving my smart shoes and suit just for best,
too many old clothes that I’ll never wear,
though some could be fixed with a minor repair,
soon I’ll be whistling a different tune,
when I sort my wardrobe out, some day quite soon,
into black bin bag with labels on top,
I’ll be best friends with the charity shop.
Then they sang to the Lovers
Lovers across the world
they sang to people who
were in love
those who wanted to be Love
and those who understood love
and being in Love
She sang
Lover who I desire
and wish a world to
envy
Love oh Love
with your mystic ways
Love adore me
with all thy ways
He sang
She who Loves me
with her temperamental ways
she who desires the comforts of
our togetherness
in all her
womanish ways
One summer I bought husband and I shirts that matched.
Not one or two, but rather ten or twelve, all thickly thatched.
We rode around in them puffed up, as if just hatched.
Looking like Tweedle Dee and Dumb, distorted, and insanely batched.
Clarke now washes his trousers and shirts
And wants wife to be washing her skirts.
Not a rule launderers quit the dirt
Release of cash to soap men could hurt...
Washing one's pants touches not one's worth,
A decreed king it won't change nor birth,
Cleaning foul singlet not without mirth,
At one's kingdom one shall, at last, berth...
The truth in what you have heard a dearth,
Like the ones in tales told by a hearth;
It's deserved if into two I burst
And of my sad fate men note the worst.
Touching the shirts loyalty
so united in the coat rack...
They live to wear
to the one they love
with proud dedication...
She cannot thread a needle
or sew a fancy shirt
Her fingers know not gardens
or digging in the dirt
But she listens to me patiently
asks about my day
Perhaps our home looks lived-in
~ I like it just that way
Pretty young lady using
t-shirt written UGLY PRO,
is at risk of kidnapping ...
Bearing Man T-Shirt
with target drawing and writing
SHOOTING, is at risk of
be targeted ...
Who wears a shirt
portrait of UNCLE SAM, run
risk of being summoned by
american army for
being a volunteer soldier in Iraq ...
That was in other times ...
Hot was the room that she sweated a lot,
as the maid tired,
ironing
white shirts
for
her
master
who wanted
to be dandy
when he toyed with the ladies at the ball.
17 November 2020
Double Tetractys 6 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Picture No 2
Placed 1
Looking back
curiously acquiescent
in 4th floor chaos
Looking through these
dresser drawers of
sleepy underclothing
Retrospective shirts
and tiresome socks,
these sheaths of self
more coincidental
than designed
Everything ajar,
windows, doors
my dresser drawers
Clues left coyly
in my path
by boorish poltergeists
Half absent,
I impassively apprise their
surreptitious ways,
their secret jokes
on my reclusion
I love Paul Merton
I just wish he'd keep his shirt on....
Stop flexing his pecs
In front of Ant n Dec,
Even Vladimir Putin shows more respect
To the long suffering viewer;
Paul:- climb out of the sewer,
Resist the urge to flash
Your naked rippling torso
You're rightly famous cos you're so
Frivolous and witty
It would be a real pity
If your elegant urbanity
Was eclipsed by this inanity,
The soul of wit is brevity
So confine yourself to levity
And keep that sex god bod, son
Securely wrapped in cotton -
Think of all the panel shows you've got on
Whilst staying fully clothed
In doublet and hose,
The paps dont need to see your nipples
It just creates unnecessary ripples
In the light entertainment pond
You are never going to star as Bond!
Stick to your faintly surrealistic reflections
On whether Cumberpatch keeps Capons,
And for pity's sake Merton
Just keep your blooming shirt on!
Shirts and Summers.
Walks post beers.
Just another day.
Just another way to say; I miss the old 'us' -
oh it rusts.
Hurts.
And I love it.
Heat of the weather,
Holding each other,
Looking at the blue sky,
wondering of whose and why,
Holding her finger,
in warm white shirt of summer,
he smiled and sipped water,
if not with her,
there's no another ...
she just smiled,
before they both died,
holding arms opened wide,
washed in the tide ...
how do for a laugage that speaks
to coupling
and reproduction
that isn't lewd and mean spirted?
Wprds that are aimed and directed
to create an atmoshere of being
together
in a spirt of love and togetherness.
this Patsor asked members
of his church, and churches within his county,
to create new words, with new meanings, to define love, and appreciation and fondness , words that indicate wanting and needing, in an expression of love.
he also wanted words that spoke to the hussy in the locker room. she might hear words that she wishes she hadn't heard!
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