Zippers Poems

sewing something Sally

sewing something Sally is on the trail of a pin
she saw it yesterday, and can match it with its twin
slides her tape measure out of the way
and yells hip hip hip hip hip hooray

is this how I’ll act if I take up sewing? I wonder.
Sewing something Sally is always full of blunder.
She speaks of pin cushions, zippers, buttons and such.
I am not sure I would like this hobby very much.

Fasten-aiding

There are things we take for granted 
People used to do without
With a thousand-plus examples,
But these verses are about…

Fasteners we use for clothing,
Such as zippers, hooks or snaps,
Also buttonholes and buttons,
Buckles, laces, even straps.

Have you heard of Whitcomb Judson?
He and Gideon Sundback share
The invention of the zipper - 
Just let Google take you there.

All my jeans and many jackets
Have that satisfying zip,
Which my ancestors, when dressing,
Never had a chance to grip.

Every fastener has background
Which may fascinate or bore,
But we owe some thanks to those
Who get us quicker out the door.


*Thanks to my husband for the title!

Pockets

We are the fabric of life, not politicians or governments. They are only buttons, snaps, and stitching holding the fabric together. Zippers and velcro control the flow and access to the fabric. We are the ones who repair and care for that fabric. We replace the lost buttons, sew the tears and hem the cuffs. We also decide what goes in the pockets. We can’t allow the fabric to be compromised and burdened with the wrong buttons and tailoring. We must look to each other for guidance to help remove the dirt from the fabric. We must empty the pockets full of lint. We must open the pockets sewn shut. Once the pockets are open they must stay open for all. They must never be a place for lint and perceptions again.

We Liked Tailor Very Much

Tailor had a circuit, he arrived three times a year to sew us up
He used to have a cat, a fish, a dog, a wife and a pup
The wife got tired of the traveling and took the pets to settle down
She was fed up with the hassle of always moving town to town.

Tailor loved his life, and did not much miss his wife.
She had been a harpy, grousing most of their married life.
But he did miss the dog and the cat, and especially the fish.
To get a new pet was his fervent wish.

Tailor brought along his sewing machine, materials, zippers and such.
The people in my town liked him more than a little, actually, very much.
We took up a collection and bought him an orangutan to travel with.
He made him a three-piece suit, and named him Little Kith.

my unique purses

I have a Dr. Seuss purse
It’s one of a kind
My sister made it
She says she will never make another one
Too many zippers

I carry no other purse now
Except my “I love Lucy” purse
Which she also made me
Unique appreciates unique

At The Madrasa

At The Madrasa

On the floor, we three intertwine,
glances that linger, hands that align.
Many pages of verse we recite and tread,
A hand touches hand, no words are said.

Fingers trace the zippers glide,
A sudden warmth, a spark inside.
Bare beneath fabric, thrill within,
A rushing pulse under the skin.

Lips graze nipples, tender and close,
In the library, where no one knows. 
Kisses that linger, tender and wet, 
Stirring a fire, dripping hot sweat.

Heavy breath, our bodies collide,
Fingers penetrate, no need to hide.
******’s surge, crashing in flight,
lost in each other, moans of delight.

Among all the girls in the room,
Where passion and love bloom.
In warm embraces, the hours slip by,
Until our teacher lets us go with a sigh.

Ted wants a Knapsack not a Backpack

Mommy, I do not want a backpack
I want a polka-dotted red knapsack
this annoyed Ted’s father, big Max
All kinds of conformity this child lacks

Knapsacks do not have zippers Ted said.
I don’t want a backpack, he yelled from his bed.
Little compartments are marvelous said Uncle Ed.
I will take a knapsack or nothing, screamed little Ted.

You have a problem, Grandma Martin said to Big Max.
He makes such a big deal about a backpack!
If it’s a knapsack he wants we can do that, Grandma Martin.
We only have a day and a half until he goes to kindergarten.

The Upside

On vacations you tend to gain weight,
Finding luscious, rich foods on your plate.
Add to that, extra drinks,
Plus desserts and methinks
Many people with this can relate.

And, though meals were a source of delight,
Coming home, all your clothing feels tight.
Buttons pop, seams may rip,
Zippers struggle to zip
Since you couldn’t resist one more bite.

Yet if somehow you’ve given a ride
To a sickness like Covid inside,
You’ll feel woozy and spent
And, though not your intent,
You’ll discover your appetite’s died.

So the upside to being infirm,
Which, experience lets me confirm,
Is that nothing remains
Of the pounds someone gains
On vacation, all thanks to a germ!

My Wallet

My wallet is a good friend of mine.

It was a bifold one when I purchased it. (but now...many folds developed)

Once it used to be brown and elegant 

But gradually metamorphosed and faded.

Now it looks older than I am.

It has acquired many new attributes.

Frayed at the edges, broken stitching,

Failed zippers and worn-out leather

Of course, they add antique look to it.

I have forgotten exactly when I bought it.

But I always keep it with me when I go out.

I have my own sentiments about it.

It has witnessed ups and downs in my life.

It’s an ardent follower of Shakespeare’s advice,

“Neither a borrower nor a lender be.”

Thank God! It hasn’t ever gone empty.

My pretty lady is very intelligent 

When she finds my wallet with chubby cheeks,

She presents her list of interests and wants.

The young guys never bother about wallets.

With e-payments they manage at the outlets.

When I take my old companion out to pay the charges,

My kids make fun of him and say, ‘A rich man in rags.’

My wallet - My loving companion!

Zipper

A snaking mouth sloughs two spines,
the rattle of small vertebrae
and delicate teeth.

A woman learns to ride them, feels
the trombone slide of a dragon’s tail.

A man lifts tugging fingers,
not wanting to fumble
as ill-illuminated aluminum rails
bite.

The zipper knits together lusts
or shuns and strips a thought away.
Body bags become bodily prayers.
It is a widening gash gleaming -
lip-gloss for unpainted desires.

Zippers may squeeze a tight throat,
or close an open face.

Buttons are collected or lost,
though once in a while rescued
from a box of other tangled trinkets.

The Fourth Floor of Frenzy

A blunt fumbling of zippers and hooks,
traffic outside the apartment
stops being a distant sound,
becomes a pulse shared between two.

Discarded garments tumble over themselves
forever rejected, a kind of liberation,
yet we want only to be bound,
to be held hostage to this delirium.

A bed surfaces, breaking our fall.
Jostle, lever, flex,
blind movements in a broken clock.

Now the need, now the struggle,
now the mad claws
of an unquestioning passion,
while an enveloping breath
devours us both,
one gasp at a time.

Kindergarten Students

Kindergarten students are on a planet of their own
They dance, hop, skip, sing, in every kind of tone.
Their excited voices raise up high enough to break glass.
If I am going to sub and I see kindergarten, I promptly pass.

Kindergarten students will play with fuzz on your zippers or your shirt.
They will act all prissy when you introduce worms, gardens or dirt.
Their parents have no secrets, they tell everything they ever know.
Kindergarten students skip, prance, jump, nothing they do is ever slow. 

They get under your elbows and cry when you raise your voice.
They do not answer to their Christian name, no one told them it was Royce.
They fight over each toy, and they tattle as fast as a snake rattles his stuff.
I cannot substitute teach in kindergarten, it is simply too tough!

Rules For the Game

Have fun playing baseball, hint number one
finish the season though you’ve never won.
Can’t win if you don’t play, work on point two
find the skills you need, then practice them too.

The count’s at three, try to pick the right clothes
Not too tight pants and zippers that will close.
Moving on to cleats with thought number four
be sure they fit, that’s what sizes are for.

And rule five: no cussing, use your tongue's brake,
backtalk, name-calling are habits to break.
Watch your temper, ideal number six -
you’re not that feisty cat which your dog sic’s.

As for step seven, it’s long overdue
learn from your mistakes, know what NOT to do.
Keep the dugout clean, we’ll call this clue eight
squelch farts, don’t throw up cause you over ate. 

Tip nine; learn when to bunt and when to steal
It makes for more fun, but takes nerves of steel.
One more then done with these suggestions ten -
if you chew gum, spit your wad in the tin.


World Series fades, into new pastimes we buy
...Roll on, past baseball to a creed we can live by,
...Respect for others grants our ego fond goodbye.

October 22, 2022

Mollie Bag

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

Our Politics

Who's  the power behind the throne?
Renewed zipper in the zone,
Look out, gals in the ACT,
Yet more sprogs for Barnaby?
Who shall his next wife be?
is he ScoMo's majority?
Voting in our future, you see!

• Short Zippers Poems
• Famous Zippers Poems
• Best Zippers Poems
• Read Zippers Poems
• Long Zippers Poems
• Zippers Quotes