Short Velcro Poems
Short Velcro Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Velcro by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Velcro by length and keyword.
Between Velcro
And touch screen
We are losing touching
Feeling and doing
Thumbs made us
All thumbs we will be
***
please
por favor
extend and
depends
i wear the
ones with a
velcro
strap to
accommodate
my belly
fat so that
i can say that
my belly
is FLAT but
the L is silent
Form:
Finding it more difficult to tie my shoes
Velcro flaps are the answer to my blues
Having this problem?
Try bob bob bobbin'
Half way down you'll emit sounds like a kazoo
Feet glued to your welcome mat,
our fingers meshed like Velcro
and pieces of our shattered hearts
haphazardly taped together;
my tears and your fidgeting
weaken the adhesive,
yet, we do not—
can not—
move.
Ripping the air
in shreds between us
the curve of your ass
couldn't be found in molten glass dribbles
objecting to breathing
Velcro lips
bone on hip
fingers slipped
on a strippened tongue
sandpaper groan
don't go don't...
I hardly ever wear shoes that tie.
My wife will tell you, I never lie.
Velcro shoes are my game.
I love them without shame.
If they stopped making them, I would cry.
Written for
Sponsor S K A T *
Contest Name SHOES
Loneliness has faded away; Joy now boldly shining through
Once an empty heart is now filled to the top with a lusty haze
Velcro is jealous of how close we are to one another
Eternity will be over before our hearts go their separate ways
Has anyone seen "Junior?"
He was here a minute ago!
Weren't you supposed to watch him?
Guess we'd better call the "Popo!"
This is the third time this week!
Feels like I've got "Crack" in my head!
It's 'bout time we "LoJack" Junior!
Or just "Velcro" his ass in bed!!!
Booties on tiny feet
Skipping in new white tennies
Wobbling in first high heels
Gliding in wedding slippers
Chasing kids in sensible flats
Arthritic fingers and velcro straps
... No shoes needed in the after- life
Push and shove,
Velcro up your gloves
There's snow in the square,
In the other corner is love,
Cold and unforgiving
Like the clouds up above
Herself, she shivers in spite of
Searching for meaning
In a house come undone
She opens her window,
Listens for the sun
And then she finally heard it:
Absolute,
Resolute,
Silence
Everyone in the grotto knows
The reason for Santa’s ho ho ho’s
And why Santa’s little helper is all aglow
Because she is the latest of Santa’s ho’s
In her green woolly panty hoes
Pixie shoes with turned up toes
Her outfit held together with velcro
Everyone in the grotto knows
Santa gets inside her pixie clothes
And fills her stocking, ho ho ho
Form:
She has pink shoes.
Little pink shoes.
See? How she can dance
and twirl? Jump so high,
much higher than her other shoes?
They are so easy too,
no laces or velcro NO!
No need to bend over,
just step right in
She's a princess, Elsa
Of Course!
Not Anna, ELSA!
With little pink shoes.
***
June 7, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Velcro shod man
lingers in the V.A. clinic
for yet another visit;
he slowly turns pages,
reading pictures.
Withered man
peeking from beneath bushy eyebrows
laying odds on another day
at the park: stooping
to stop the ball
a kid just threw curved
into the wheelchair.
Sitting
his old bowed head
white and sparse of hair
a tired head,
tired of waiting
to finish
the landing.
WALKING AWAY – for contest
Velcro attachments
tear at my heart
fibers ripping
individually,
separating
without knowledge
without cause
….tortured
by the pain
of reason’s doubt
w a l k I n g
……….. a w a y
12/14/2015
submitted to – Walking Away – poetry contest
sponsor – Silent One
Zippers and Velcro and snaps and straps
nylon loops are found everywhere
pockets there are of every size
pockets in pockets can be found
flags of black hang upside down
holding meanings that are not found
over shoulders diagonally hung
made to fit over either one
covered with tools of every kind
stuck in loops and on Velcro hung
swinging on straps as they walk
ringing softly with tinkling sounds
Growing tired of running circles around your eyes.
Time to slow the tempo of the jester's soul tangle.
Breathe-breathe.... breathe
My deep blue raggedy sheep.
Easy-easy-easy
You don't need those happy pills
just these bucking, diamond flanks.
Chill-chill chill.
Rest your Velcro heart in my sticky mind.
Watch stars climb from frozen naps...
Time to dream...dream ...dream.
Turn
each
other
on.
My deep blue raggedy sheep...
Form:
I want to hold you close forever,
to savor the vivid, fleeting intimacy,
that, like candy, seems gone too soon.
I’m a practical person, so I asked Peter,
“What works better, duct tape or velcro?”
Sure, some things will be awkward, at first,
like walking, thanksgiving dinner with parents,
shopping, bathing and driver’s license photos
but those always suck - let’s accept that.
We’ll live and love - together - without apologies.
.
Man
old
in wheelchair
with a number tatooed
across the back of his hand.
Three rows of numbers.
Were you there?
Germany?
Amsterdam?
His head is bowed into
hand/arm resting on the chair.
Bowed head
sparse white of hair
were you there?
Holocaust man reading.
In boots now he is
the lumber man,
or cowboy man ...
were you there?
Old velcro tennis
shoe men
in the optometry clinic
waiting for glasses
while they
read
pictures.
Foot wear,
The foot where,
The foot what connecting all to this world,
To dress,foot wear,
Addressing care,
The lacing made old fashion,
Replacing buckles,chains and Velcro in machines,
In rainbow colors,
Short builds to shot up,
Size to size foot wise,
A ladies pride,
Sometimes a tool provide,
A history when came in contact with cheeks,
Thrown at some heads in anger,
Get into others foot often,
Bare foot,a symbol of poverty,
Cobblers to make,
Lincoln an exception!
My brain was once like Velcro;
Each tidbit added stuck
And waited there, accessible
For me to find and pluck.
But all the space got taken;
The Velcro’s been replaced
By ancient masking tape from which
The glue has been erased.
So new additions do not stick
And cannot be retrieved.
Had I been warned when I was young,
I wouldn’t have believed.
Yet all things have their limits
And this, too, goes for the mind.
The more we age, the more we leave
What we once knew behind.