Stitching Poems - Poems about Stitching

How do you stitch a shattered soul mirrored in cracked reflections? Friends arrive too late, armed with needles, once the bleeding has stilled, sewing memories into a cloth of loss— stitched of sorrow, wearing grief's heavy gold, as if it were a crown above the stillness of the dead— enthroned in hollow solitude. Thoughts twist like barbed wire, fences no soul dares to...

Continue reading...

Memory weaves a thread through time’s embrace, Soft whispers linger in each fleeting day, Yearning binds the heart to love’s old place, Entwining souls where shadows softly stray, Echoes stitch the past in tender grace, Ever threading life’s unending play....

Continue reading...

does my voice carry or just echo in my own mind I feel it, reverberating even when silent, my own judgement sends shockwaves over my skin over nothing, I recognise that is it my voice? narratives float down from somewhere landing, perhaps delivered by redundant storks from Disney films "this one is earmarked for you" "why?" you might ask but the messenger doesn't know it's just a...

Continue reading...

mountain ridges of clouds o'er my windshield spread interspersed, baby-blue patches brilliant spaces, like threads stitching skies' stories together a hobbled glance ahead of cars tethered to a snarled, honking freeway, blustery rage moving in, I dread...

Continue reading...

For decades I had spun the yarn in hopes someday she would incarn. Gown bejeweled, with eyes of gold, a figure trim with movements bold. She looked among the threads I had thrown and tossed them on the cobblestones. Then plucking each strand with measured flare, she caste her stitches in the air. She bound my dreams within each stitch securing each with a...

Continue reading...

Jump off the grand canyon, and push the Rocky Mountains to the East and see the tiger roar in the green jungles of India and the lion is sleeping in Africa, the birds are at my window singing. She lay there quiet and sad, pale at heart and weak in the knees and joints, rusting from the rain. I sit there smiling and I...

Continue reading...

The shoe I wear it pinches The cot where I lie it aches And when I walk on the road I stumble upon by potholes. Still I walk on with Aching foot and aching back. The opportunities I found, it slipped The desires I made, I ejected. The dreams I dreamt, it vanished. Upon my head a blue sky Beneath my feet the ground, I believe - Heaven and...

Continue reading...

I would like to mend yours and our life into a single stetch. Into that of dreams impossibles but moment of memories. Times of love and desires passions burning from inside. Our souls craving each others emotions and our thoughts run wild. Wanting to touch your curves I feel your skin lightly. My fingers, the tingles you find yourself twitching...

Continue reading...

I would like to mend yours and our life into a single stetch. Into that of dreams impossibles but moment of memories. Times of love and desires passions burning from inside. Our souls craving each others emotions and our thoughts run wild. Wanting to touch your curves I feel your skin lightly. My fingers, the tingles you find yourself twitching...

Continue reading...

Olivia spent four hours a day ignoring her huff, she stitched her dress by hand since there was no sewing machine; why did she choose a green color to honor a monarchic regime, or was it undying hope to sustain her lonely life? Her sweetheart had gone to invade Russia expecting delusion; was Napoleon Bonaparte to blame for her sorrow...

Continue reading...

life is like cloth your life exceeds until you miss a stitch and something goes wrong so you live your life now and forever sewing ife one stitch at a time....

Continue reading...