If your poems wore clothes

PandoraGlitters

Sandy Survivor
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Sep 23, 2007
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If your poems wore clothes, what sort of clothes would they be?

Mine would be grey houndstooth suitdresses over black cotton underthings, I think. Definitely layered and maybe a little dull on the surface, but more interesting just under the butttons.

How about yours? Wool sweaters? Hand knit lace? What would your poems wear?
 
i would dress them in a colorful sundress
hiding the black lace bra and garters
 
OMG, I so love this idea. My poem is celebrating her 30th year. Here is how She appears to me now.

Mica Kite wears a full-length, very tight gown with long draping sleeves. The bottom hem flows out around Her, its soft edges flaring out in rippling rays. The effect is quite pretty as it blows in the currents gently. The gown's deeply scooped neckline and empire bodice are trimmed with wide ribbons of shine, sun for day and moon for night. During the daylight, Her gown is illuminescent of gold and blue reflections. In moonlight, her dress is all velvet darkness and twinkling stars of radiant beauty. She wears matching stockings with a silky satin garter belt, loving the myriad conveniences of wearing a lovely dress (She loves to be bent over, hem hiked, and taking the Big One ... mmm hmm!). Her slim foot and well-shaped toes, glittering with jeweled rings, are shod in silver 6" pumps with beautiful round peep-hole toes. Both ankles bear bracelets of aquamarine gems matching those on Her wrists; by night, they twinkle amethyst. Her sparkling collar stays true always, large emerald-cut diamonds. Her chandelier earrings sparkle and dangle. She toys with an ephemeral wrap of an almost-not-there cloud.

(Sigh) Thanks for creating a space for another expression of my poem! This was fun. And I think your poem looks fabulous. I love houndstooth! What shoes does your poem wear? I'd love to take a peek, if you don't mind.
 
Different garb for different poems:
My erotic poems would wear a soon discarded robe over a throbbing thong, and barefoot.
My geopoetry would have clothes with lots of pockets for colored pencils, compass, GPS, cigarettes, snacks and other field essentials, with sturdy hiking boots.
My lost love laments clothes would be tearstained and likely torn, scuffed shoes from kicking the pavement.
The rest would be dressed casually, sneakers or loafers on the feet.
 
Nothing.

(But they would keep a pair of dark jeans draped over the chair, in case they have to run out, you know, to do poetry things).
 
I am grinning at your marvelous answers. How descriptive you are, Elysienne, EO and Mr. Eyes.

Shoes, hmm? I think my poems wear pumps: low enough to run for a cab but tall enough to give them a little bit of vantage. Also, easy to kick off if they have to do things. Poetry things. ;)
 
Well now there's a thought ..... I think some of mine mine are wearing a very silky night gown seductive to the eye but only sheer in a certain light, that drapes to the contours of my body. Inviting possibilities from the reader tempting but not quite revealing all there is to offer until you get deep into the meaning.
 
The would be like the emporer's new clothes. Invisible to everyone but themselves. Or else they would be dressed in brightly coloured but random clothes.
 
Very interesting question... don't know. Shall think on it for sure. Hm, yes, a provocative question.
 
there would be the clothes they wear now, and the clothes they would like to wear if we lived in a balmier climate.
 
My doggerel would wear unwashed homespun held together with leather thongs, wrinkled woollen stockings above well-worn leather sandals. The smell would be obvious from yards away.

Og
 
'course that's Papa Poem with the leopardskin loincloth. Mama Poem wears sealskin apron...
 
Mine dress like my avatar ;) on Mony's Free Sex Beach :eek:

I leave you alone for a few days in SL, and this is where you go? Ahahahaha.

My poems wear jeans for sure, but some wear silk lace or riding boots. Some of the jazz poems are in satin, of course but others are in men's suits, zoot suits even. One poem stands in a bathrobe on the deck outside my kitchen door and watches the pines. Another wears stardust because it's a constellation. My boyfriend's poems don't wear underpants. :D

Well, you asked.
 
My minds eye has gone into overdrive here ...... loincloths and pantless! Point of order if Tarzan only wore a loincloth didn't he bang his donger on the branches as he swung through?
 
I would think my poems would wear jeans, a teeshirt and beatup workboots. Watching the world go by through cigar haze with whiskey breath. If it's cold enough, find a denim shirt with a Carhartt jacket close by just in case. Don't mind the oil stains on the jacket, that's from changing the oil on the pickup. Not that my poems can't clean up at times; suit and tie and all that jazz. They know which fork goes with which course and never mix white wine and red meat. Of course that requires shaving. Got to give that smooth finish to a kiss.
 
I would think my poems would wear jeans, a teeshirt and beatup workboots. Watching the world go by through cigar haze with whiskey breath. If it's cold enough, find a denim shirt with a Carhartt jacket close by just in case. Don't mind the oil stains on the jacket, that's from changing the oil on the pickup. Not that my poems can't clean up at times; suit and tie and all that jazz. They know which fork goes with which course and never mix white wine and red meat. Of course that requires shaving. Got to give that smooth finish to a kiss.

You said jazz. :D
 
Free? as opposed to what?!!!
As opposed to pay-by-the-grain. (re: sex beaches) :cattail:

Og said:
My doggerel would wear unwashed homespun held together with leather thongs, wrinkled woollen stockings above well-worn leather sandals. The smell would be obvious from yards away.
Sounds pungent, erm, poignant I mean.

hmmnmm said:
Papa Poem with the leopardskin loincloth. Mama Poem wears sealskin apron.
Flinstones festoonery for the whole family.

Angeline said:
My poems wear jeans for sure, but some wear silk lace or riding boots. Some of the jazz poems are in satin, of course but others are in men's suits, zoot suits even. One poem stands in a bathrobe on the deck outside my kitchen door and watches the pines. Another wears stardust because it's a constellation. My boyfriend's poems don't wear underpants.
Your poems have a whole wardrobe. I could see that. Trying not to think about EE's poems' underpants though . . .

The Fool said:
They know which fork goes with which course and never mix white wine and red meat. Of course that requires shaving. Got to give that smooth finish to a kiss.
Beyond and above, F, to grooming. Dare I ask if anyone's poems have soul patches?
 
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If My Poems Wore Clothes

they'd be out of style by two years,
or a decade, or a century or three.
The tops wouldn't match the bottoms
(plaids clash with stripes), but they'd be clean,
dammit, though definitely not pressed.

My poems would love to strut about
in the garish logowear of loser teams
from underperforming markets,
those ones with the dorky colors
you never see on ESPN.

My poems would wear sandals
and running shoes and sunglasses
(the clip-on kind), and vintage baseball caps.
There'd be holes in my poem's clothes,
for sure. Holes that are mine as well.



.
 
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Most of my poems are t-shirts with funny texts or quotes on them, and some are plain black sweaters.
 
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