Turtleneck Poems | Examples

A Poet in Disguise

I am turning half of my garage into an office space so I will have more room to scatter my unorganized thoughts into even bigger piles. Of course, my neighbor had to mosey on over to see just what all the commotion was about. When I told him my plan was to give me more space to burn the midnight oil writing poetry, he looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “Well I’ll be darn, you certainly don’t look like a poet.” When I asked him what a poet should look like, he said, “You know… long hair, a goatee and a turtleneck shirt. Maybe round rose-colored glasses.” I guess now I know what the problem is. I don’t have a turtleneck.

Reality is
what we believe to be true
not what is the truth

The Polar Vortex

I check the weather on my phone
Before I head outside.
My jacket choices such a glance
Does helpfully provide.

For weeks, my trusty fleece it’s been,
With turtleneck below,
A sweatshirt sometimes added
If the wind’s supposed to blow.

Today, though, temps were hovering
At thirty-eight degrees
So if I dressed like always
I believed I might just freeze.

Some Arctic air has come to town,
Unusual for May.
The Polar Vortex, as it’s called,
Makes flowers droop and sway.

My woolen cape came out to help
Me on my walking task.
I wonder if it recognized me
From behind my mask.

A Scarf

I always thought a scarf was simply
Meant to warm your neck
And wore one only when I set out
On a winter trek.

But one day, having left mine home,
Just walking several blocks
I shivered from my turtleneck
Right to my woolen socks.

I tried that walk again that day,
My scarf, though, wrapped ‘round tight
And coziness enveloped me;
The wind just couldn’t bite.

So whether yours is store-bought
Or hand-knit by Aunt Sydelle,
A scarf worn on a winter’s day
Will surely serve you well.

I Simply Forgot

I forgot to share
I forgot to show
I forgot what to wear
I forgot where to go

I forgot my keys
I forgot my purse
It’s 90 degrees
In a turtleneck shirt

I forgot what to bring
I forgot what to say
I forgot to dream
At night and not day

Who has the time
I forgot my phone
A quarter past nine
I forgot to go home 

I forgot what you said
I forgot my reply
But I must go to bed
The time sure did fly

Sariputra and Void

Once Sariputra was attending a sort of book event: a dozen of young writers, men and women, met up on Wednesday of every week and read each other texts upon an actual literature. Sitting across a very open, a very red dress which sounded like reading something out of a story in a fantasy world, Sariputra was thinking about the void.

"This kind of openness does not mean emptiness, - he thought, - particularly, if to take into account "the plunging V-neckline and Empire-line midriff inset in satin with pressed pleats that cleverly accentuates a lovely bustline*". The narrative, in an obvious way, buys its acceptability by its substantive emptiness. If here a form is a simply emptiness and an emptiness is a simply form, should it assume that they both could, say, provide assistance on morally sound bestseller technologies where I have left a void, or waste of a dream, or explain why naught is naughty and why a perfect look matches a perfect emptiness".

The next reader was a girl in grey. Alas, her glasses, zits and her baggy turtleneck was eloquent testimony to her talent. Sariputra sighed and started to leave. 

* Unknown glossy magazine.

Up To My Neck

I love to wear a turtleneck,
A boat neck or a cowl
But offer me a V-neck
And I guarantee a scowl.

A scoop’s a possibility
And I will sport a crew
Yet I cannot explain just why
A V-neck will not do.

A sweetheart neckline flatters
And a halter is ideal.
A square or off-the-shoulder,
If the mood hits, has appeal.

Whenever I go shopping, 
I know what feels right for me,
And that is why I’ll rarely wear
A neckline with a V.

Alec the Czech

I met a Czech now living in Quebec
Very handsome in crisp turtleneck
He tells a sad story about a shipwreck
But now has a highfalutin job here in high tech

Alec loves to strut muscles in a crew neck
Play outdoor hockey and body check
Climb mountains on a challenging trek
Water ski off a summer cottage deck
Answer any pop quiz about the Aztec
Let loose at the swinging discotheque
Draws the line at pretending he knows a speck
About anything related to home ec

One day Alec was about to write a blank cheque
To some random bushwhacking redneck
Who tried to sell him a bushel and a peck
I sent him on a hike as he pulled a quick rubberneck

I told Alec it was his dance moves I’d like to check
And maybe let him nibble a little on my neck



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on October 2, 2018 for contest EARLY OCTOBER 2018 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND

Originally posted on March 28, 2018

Navy Turtleneck

He wore a navy turtleneck
And man, he looked so cute,
An observation, I believe,
Nobody would dispute.

I can’t recall my outfit - 
Don’t know if it factored in - 
But on that night, our lives together
Somehow did begin.

Today we both remember
How our smiles were set aglow
On that February seventh
Forty-three short years ago.

Field of Vampire Dreams

Nine on each vampire team
all eighteen clones of Bela Lugosi it seemed
one up at bat turning into one
flying super fast making a home run,

The umpire vampires would always call out safe
not wanting to get into a vampire riot just in case
knowing each other quite like an old book
all belonging to the same vampire brotherhood,

I was the only baseball fan in the stands
wearing a turtleneck which was a good plan
eating peanuts and popcorn in the night air
as one of the Bela fellas gave me an eerie stare,

It didn't matter who I rooted for
while Count Dracula kept the baseball score
seems like they were just in it for fun
that is till the emergence of the sun,

Suddenly they all disappeared in the twilight air
because when I awoke no one was there
just me yawning and stretching in bed
with the field of vampire dream still in my head.


9-30-17

Checklist

Here’s a little checklist
If you think you’re getting old.
Check off fewer than a couple
And perhaps you’ll be consoled.

Are you losing hair or finding it
In places unexpected?
Do you crave a turtleneck
So extra skin goes undetected?

Do you need a nap by 4 p.m.
And doze by the TV?
Do you wake up nightly, several times,
Because you have to pee?

Does a cough or cold last weeks and weeks
While energy is lagging?
Do the wrinkles in the mirror
Make your spirits feel like sagging?

Do you read a book or see a film
And then cannot recall it?
Does technology require help
‘Cause you cannot install it?

If you’ve answered yes to most of these,
Then, sadly, you’re among
Those of us, including Dylan,
Who are not “forever young.”

Without Benefit of Wimple

Covey of nuns
without benefit of wimple

graciously attired 
sport coat, turtleneck, skirt

scurry through the airport
iPads swinging

unaware the turtleneck 
is their Roman collar.


Donal Mahoney

Choose Life

Call me ignorant
but just let the light shimmer above my head,
let those whispers softly dance in my ears
and leave me alone
because I don’t care !
Because I know
how ended those who gave a damn !

Names, you say ?
You want some names ?
Alright then, suit yourself.

Heathcliff, died.
Even twice I might say.
Billy, stuck in the air,
but never managed to fly away.
Roxana, fed karma with her own breast.
Humbert, lost his heart, his mind and the light of his life.

You may ask my friend
how do I know all of this.
Then I’ll reply:
I read my dear, I read.

Since only through books
you can taste the true craziness.
And trust me,
only crazy people are worth something these days.
Sanity is a disease.

You don’t believe me ?
Then ask Alice,
hold her hand
and chase the white rabbit when there’s still time.

Otherwise reality will smash you
and no one will notice.
No one but the boy without the turtleneck,
who will murmur sadly and very slow:
“And your soul from out that shadow
that lies floating on the floor
shall be lifted,
nevermore.”

Between Time

We’re now in between time;
The closet’s in flux.
Dressing’s a problem
And clothing’s the crux.

Turtleneck? T-shirt?
Long pants or Capris?
Boots worn with tights
Or just socks to the knees?

Temp’s one day 80,
The next 52;
Sift through my dresser – 
Don’t know what to do.

Short-sleeved tops nestled
Near sweaters of wool.
Time for decisions;
The drawers are too full.

The closet has waiting
My jackets, some light.
Hard to tell which one
Will help me feel right.

Between time just happens
But doesn’t last long.
At least in the winter,
I won’t be dressed wrong!

Naked

I’ve tried to hide
But you find me
You find my psyche
Dressed in a turtleneck
With a refined scarf
And you disrobe each layer
Pulling at that dangling string
The hint that may unravel me
Playing hide n seek
Like a toddler
If I hide my eyes
You can’t see me
But when I’m peeking
Through the cracks of
My insecure fingers 
Squeezed tight afraid
Of being so raw
Your gaze is still there
Peeling back unconsented 
Layers as if to ravish
My vulnerability
But you don’t 
Give me a choice
I stand powerless 
And the plastic smile
I could pass off
And use to convince 
Strangers of my 
Perfect world 
You simply pick at
Digging your curious nail
Into the cracks of my being
Like an experienced banker
Identifying counterfeit money
You laugh at my mask
Your gaze chisels 
Gaping holes that 
Crumble in the heat
Of you loving me
And there I am
Thankful you found
My real and naked me
Because sometimes I hide
And I cannot even find myself

Mapping the Imagination

It sounded so cool,
coming from the master
wordsmith there on the cover
of "Poets and Writers".
didn't he look like he knew?
White hair and beard,
impeccable, black turtleneck,
coarse cloth overcoat,
turned out, casual and
desciplined.
More like mapping the magi or
apping the magus.
Maybe lassoing the ocean.
Ma, put the pin in Gina.
Look for the ion in nation.
Start small yet the boundaries
are so...like an obsessive killer
getting rid of fingerprints,
it never ends.
I want to be like Mike!
Casual discipline, throwing
out the red herrings
with the bath water.
It is after all a wash and
pretty soiled to boot,
and reboot.
My god, I've only gone
from left to right
on this mapping thing.
Dare I go from right to left?
Damn! I give up. You have
a thirty year headstart.
I'll just have to draw
my own darn maps.

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