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I hold my skirt, sash untied
and stand before the window with unpainted eyebrows.
Silk clothes fly open so easily.
If my skirt opens, I’ll blame the spring wind!

poem by Zi Ye
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Change Of Seasons

There is beauty found in dying
when Autumn dons her velvet gown—
A pastel landscape underlying
when Autumn strolls through town.

When Autumn dons her velvet gown,
deep colors in her skirt unfold.
When Autumn strolls through town,
the leaves turn crimson, brown, and gold.

Deep colors in her skirt unfold.
Summer acquiesces.
The leaves turn crimson, brown, and gold
when Autumn unbraids her copper tresses.

Summer acquiesces—
A pastel landscape underlying.
When Autumn unbraids her copper tresses,
there is beauty found in dying.

poem by Kathy Lippard Cobb
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To Myrtilla

Twelve fleeting years ago my Myrt,
(Ehu fugaces! maybe more)
I wrote of the directoire skirt
You wore.

Ten years ago, Myrtilla mine,
The hobble skirt engaged my pen.
That was, I calculate, in Nine-
Teen Ten.

The polo coat, the feathered lid,
The phony furs of yesterfall,
The current shoe--I tried to kid
Them all.

Vain every vitriolic bit,
Silly all my sulphuric song.
Rube Goldberg said a bookful; it
'S all wrong.

[...] Read more

poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Bringing My Son To The Police Station To Be Fingerprinted

My lemon-colored
whisper-weight blouse
with keyhole closure
and sweetheart neckline is tucked
into a pastel silhouette skirt
with side-slit vents
and triplicate pleats
when I realize in the sunlight
through the windshield
that the cool yellow of this blouse clashes
with the buttermilk heather in my skirt
which makes me slightly queasy
however

the periwinkle in the pattern on the sash
is sufficiently echoed by the twill uppers
of my buckle-snug sandals
while the accents on my purse
pick up the pink
in the button stitches

[...] Read more

poem by Shoshauna Shy
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The Naked Chef (poem/lyrics)

I'm attempting to be nouveau
and trying to update
all my culinary skills
to the modern way.

I really don't like swearing
but chefs, these days all swear,
I'm trying hard to master it
but I don't really care

for I'm becoming expert
at cooking in the nude
although it can be messy
and it feels a little rude.

Before I use my mixing bowl
I discard skirt and top
stockings slip down easily
and then the rest comes off.

[...] Read more

poem by Ruth Walters
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Skirt with a Flowery Design

I slipped into a long nightmare
Of wild, disturbing thoughts
And a river of fears.
I waited for the only woman
Who ever saw me weep,
I waited with the same lonely eyes
That used to watch her sleep.
Hearing the ocean roar of my unhappy soul,
I desired to wake but sunk further into restless unconsciousness.

In immeasurable darkness,
I trailed the voice of a bird
Until I casted myself into a moonless ditch.
Yesterday, I touched a skirt with a flowery design,
A skirt that once swayed with dances
But now hangs lifelessly in a closet.

I’ve been told
Everything can be forgotten,
The ability to open your eyes,

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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Obsession with the beloved

.

The Tanjore Tower’s shadow
Never falling on the earth
Is not a loan wonder.
Your shadow falling on the earth
Too is equally a wonder.

Whenever I come to you face to face,
Blushing you turn away your face
As if your back is less a beauty.

You walk down holding up
The skirt from kissing the ground.
What would you do saving the skirt
While your pretty soles get soiled?

We melt together,
I in writing your name
And you later in reading it.

[...] Read more

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Clotheslines dont do clothes

clothesline does
not do clothes
here is hung the fun
of the whole family

when heaven
affords a blessing,
a breeze -
the clothesline
opens the way
for the whole family
to strut, boggie

sister's lace shawl
goes up in a straight line
turns hand of wind
flutters up, down
a choreographer showing
the way to swing
with hands, legs

[...] Read more

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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1. Clothesline

at the clothesline
is hung the fun
of the whole family

when heaven
affords a blessing -
a breeze -
the clothesline
leads the way
for the whole family
to strut, boggie

sister's lace shawl
goes up in a straight line
turns hand of wind
flutters up, down
a choreographer
pointing out
the way to swing
with hands, legs

[...] Read more

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Sleep Walk

Piss shock hot
on sleeping knees,
the sudden tilted pail,
its wilted contents,
evidence enough to convict.

Slips into focus a memory
of crocus crazed upon her
matriarchal sill, the killing of
a cock, hacked, dimmed
eye sideways turned,
a dying sun behind a hill.

Red the axe clumsily wielded,
but a boy toying at men's work,
killing to eat, her forgiving skirt,
ankle deep, no longer riven to
morning, unable to witness the
last glorious color bleeding out
in less than insect hour.

[...] Read more

poem by Warren Falcon
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