'macrame' poems - Hello Poetry

Olivia Kent Apr 2014

Looking at that family tree.
Strung far and wide in Macrame.
Caught in a complex web of lies.
From yesterdays.
Those that went before, running into today.
There are good ones and bad ones.
Families that is.
Sometimes even rather sad ones.
The mother who slept with the father,
Who, then flipped to the uncle, who created who?
A rhetorical question.
Julie- Ann, she then discovered that she had an unknown brother.
The family love stretched far and wide, as at times the family members were denied.
Love to be close to recent ones, the family setting as the sun.
The draped macrame still hangs full of holes, stretched from bough to bow.
And darling sister was still a cow.
The son will always shine, an orb of of light after the darkness.
(C) Livvi

MrunaliniDNimbalkar Jun 2019

MACRAME

MrunaliniDNimbalkar Jun 2019

MACRAME

Entangle in the knot's of love for that's what mankind was made for and deserve.
Untangle the knot's of hate, before it is too late .

Tie the knot's to build a wonderful journey of life.
Untie the knot's to sojourn in the presence of happy souls.

Entwine the knot's of pleasurable experiences,
Unravel the knot's of misery.
Design a macrame of enlightenment , deliverance and positive awakening's
Create a masterpiece of life's treasury.

© Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar

Self- growth#positive goals #true meaning #of #life #spiritual #simple#verse#25.06.2019

L B Aug 2018

Dream Dress

L B Aug 2018

Dream Dress

This woman I know
quite the old hippie
gave me this lovely gift

A softened silk and denim dress
Folded loosely
just handed to me, unwrapped
(We felt the same about the waste of paper)
“This is for you.”
Opening it, I saw its gentle gathers from the shoulders
almost elegant, its drape
and the rough
but soft and dark of it
Real indigo dye
with silk laces from bust to waist

...then the tiny stitching...
NO!
Not by machine!
Knew the labor was – intensive
Every edge
was finished, sewn
by her caring hand!

"Oh, lady of my dream

whom I do not know
I THANK YOU!
From my soul"
I would have made this in another life –
time
of hope and longing

And then I saw that seam!
along the side
that wasn't... really...
just those thicker threads
a silk macrame
of knotted net
so – bold
to hold that one inch open
to hint at nothing –
and everything –
in between

“Oh hell! Oh ****!
Does it come with an occasion??!!”
She smiled
somewhere between shy and sly

You get them when I get them. This from a month ago.

Alice Sep 2020

Macrame Artist

Alice Sep 2020

Macrame Artist

You twist my words
into forms I don’t recognize
it’s almost like
art

#love #gaslighting #abuse #harmrelationship

jeffrey robin Mar 2015

the first step is to know

jeffrey robin Mar 2015

the first step is to know

that it is a journey
Of
1000 miles

//
She was sittin on the bed with the 200 lbs of
Macrame string that we managed to buy
At Fisherman's Wharf

With the help of 5 complete strangers

Who had showered us with the

Life altering kindness

You think really doesn't exist

( but it does ! )

//

And she said

DO YOU WANT TO HELP ME MAKE THE BELTS AND POUCHES ?

I turned to my brain and told it to tell my mouth

To say NO

Firmly ( but nicely )

I turned to her and said

SURE
WHEN DO WE START ?

//

JESUS **** !

I started screaming ( silently )

at my brain

YOU TRAITOR !

And you , MOUTH  !

You knew !  You knew !!

••

She became ecstatic !

And said

GREAT!
WE' LL START WITH ME TEACHING YOU
THE BASIC SQUARE KNOT !

//

I started to give my brain it's obvious instruction

BUT !

I blurted out

WOW !
I ALWAYS WANTED TO LEARN HOW
TO MAKE SAILOR'S KNOTS

//

I turned in a huff to these 2 fiends of brain and mouth

And said ( silently )

ALWAYS ?
YOU MADE ME SAY

ALWAYS   !?
A WEEK AGO WE HAD NEVER EVEN HEARD

OF SAILOR 'S KNOTS !!

///

Then the song
Of
JANIS JOPLIN
came to me

FREEDOM ' S JUST ANOTHER WORD
FOR NOTHIN LEFT TO LOSE ----

//

and I now had nothin left

My life was surrendered to hers

( due to the love and kindness of strangers ! )

••

But  ( you see )

There was a massive mistake in my calculations
( again )

You see

SHE
had ( unknownst to me with my selfish heart )

Made a similar commitment to me !

And / more and more /only asked me to do what
I really wanted to do

( even to learn to do macrame )

What I was afraid to do without encouragement

••

WE BECAME A       TEAM !

//

We both had different social skills

She was so unbelievably compassionate

She was so able to break thru people's fears
And enter into such trust inducing relationships

It seemed like magic to me

//

I was really good at organizing things

Setting plans

Seeing the picture of the goals
We needed to accomplish

//

In a certain sense

We never talked

--

A glance back and forth

A subtle gesture

//.

Complete unity

••

People would ask

HOW YOU 2 GETTING ALONG !?

ARE YOU IN LOVE !?

""

and we would look at each other and wonder

GETTING ALONG ?
IN LOVE ?

And not have the slightest idea what they were talking about !

//

And that might help explain
Why

When I read the poems here

I don't know what you are talking about

//

( not the slightest idea )

//

Like there is a weird thing happening
And then it gets weirder

And then someone gets upset because it gets weirder
But it was weird already !

••

And then the strangest vocabulary gets going

Trying to describe some feelings that are really only thoughts

About something that isn't really happening anyway

( or something like that )

••

So

On and on it goes !

I just try to be

Like those strangers on Fisherman's Wharf

Trying to make the magic

That is pure human kindness

//

To throw myself upon

The BARBED WIRE OF EGO

So that you might

climb my back

AND LEAP INTO THE FREEDOM
OF          INFINITY !

Ross Robbins Sep 2011

On Perfectionism, Cluttered Mind

Ross Robbins Sep 2011

On Perfectionism, Cluttered Mind

Looked in the lint trash
What, a bucket of spiders?
But that's just my smarm, I mean
Charm, yes so charming, I

Feel I should tell
You: See, I am the kind
Of a man whose particles of rage all blend blisters into macrame
What? That's to say I only craft with vengeance, Art is Hell.

I'm not really sure, see, it seems I
have so many words inside and yet
No order, no syntax, no form, no norm.

Can't spin A.D.D. into gold, No,

I can't tremble, blink, then in that
Blink! Distill a miracle
Of words whose sentience, er,
Sentence myself to the chair,

The chair at the computer where,
Confounded,
I shiver and sigh, sob, eye.

John Edward Smallshaw Nov 2016

Matchstick macrame

John Edward Smallshaw Nov 2016

Matchstick macrame

It'd bed ripping icicles weather outside
winter is here and I'm trying to
hide
but the cold finds a way in
my head starts to spin or it could be my eyes,
or this room's a disguise for an orbiting ship

I slip into unconsciousness although you couldn't really tell unless you knew,
I know 'cause my toes are blue, my breathing's slightly sharp and Jack Frost is here with a harp
to play me out.

I wander once again, but
it's no big deal that I can't feel
my fingers anymore
and why doesn't the cold ever
creep out of the door instead of
always creeping in?

someone pinned a tail on me
mistaken for a donkey?
I often am

the old dog ambles on

Timmy was a terrier and we used him as a ferretter along the River Lune,
t'weir were theer and we were here and blue sky diving all the way,

if only yesterday had learnt to swim and I could stop myself from diving in

carpet slippers on a parquet floor?
to stop me slipping if you're wondering what for.

It's that time if the time is now
and wondering why or how
won't make the sun shine

it does it automatically.

willow sophie Jun 2019

Macrame

willow sophie Jun 2019

Macrame

I will ask one thing;
if I am hung from a noose,
make it macrame.

(15w haiku)

Olga Valerevna Aug 2012

you, me and Beelzebub

Olga Valerevna Aug 2012

you, me and Beelzebub

Let's you and I
Climb up high
Into this hive
And hide our lives
Inside

We'll disappear
Into our fears
So no one hears
Or sees our tears
We're mirrors

Come with me
My honeybee
I'll make you free
Just place your knees
Upon the tree

My home is dark
It's like this bark
And you're the spark
I need to start
My heart

Our light in beams
We'll invade dreams
And float like streams
In people's screams
It seems

A macrame
Of honey stains
Adorns the face
Of our dismay
And stays

We live and die
Inside our hive
Just you and I
Til the end of time
But why?

Gigi Tiji Mar 2015

Listen...

Gigi Tiji Mar 2015

Listen...

I yearn to someday make something of utmost individuality.
But it seems today I'm pensively turning blank pages perpetually.

It seems I'm marred, and it's
macrame macrame, same thing every time.

Presumably, light of it comes, but with what am I left as it goes?

Retinal scarring! Badum poots.

Maybe some knots in the cords of my back and creases down the corners of my every smile.

What comes up
must go down
dimple dimple frown frown
Come on outside for a while!
Sunshine daisy daffodil!
Hills and valleys, mountains
and canyons it's a whole
life story out there

But then I sit down
sit down,
and pluck the same strings
same strings.
Different order
same strings.
What'sit bring?
What's it bring?

Today I sit down
sit down
to tell you a story.
It's a short story,
but it's also a long story.

Like a mountain range you see from miles away without walking it's entire length.

I was a little monster with blinders on.
I took to my parents in a way of which I'm not too fond.
I was an orb of obsession and wrinkles of scorn on her forehead.
I was particles and waveforms trying to ride a bicycle.
I was ropa vieja mistaken for some kinda soup.

Papá!
You taught me how you saw the workings of the universe but you worked it like a cockroach. You turned me into low tail low tail grinding on the guard rail. Ready to flip over the side and tumble tumble crash. I was ready to die. You sewed my face onto screens of LEDs screaming with the cries of unclothed children. and you left me crying Mäma!

Mäma!
Saving grace grave face I'm sorry for what he's done to you. I see the weight of over two decades worth of ball and chain dead leaves still dangling from your eyelashes. I see you ripping them out from the roots when it gets to be too much. I solemnly sit beside you at that cursed kitchen table trying to wish on as many of my own so that yours may grow back without any fault. Oh, but I see them sprouting out all crooked in all directions and whenever you bat an eye you run the risk of years of silent tears tumbling on back in an attempt to finally be heard.

I've learned that no truth will come from the wishes you make on the lashes you take with force. Let 'em go with grace. Leave them alone and let them fall from your face like the loudest raindrops.

Our wishes come true just as we speak —
and listen...

Gabrielle F Jul 2010

heartbroken a little.

Gabrielle F Jul 2010

heartbroken a little.

this game
is not okay with me anymore.

you animal i am tired.

i am tired of the
antique glimmer in your eyes. boyish and
hunting and thirsty with instinct.

i am tired of the bones that jut through
your flesh and carve
into mine.

your knotted, silky figure drifting
and catching in the macrame nets
through the mammoth doorways
beneath the swelling curtains

in my mind you are an insect or
a wisp of frozen breath or
an actor sweeping the floor
with his eyelashes

at the end
of a brilliant
and terrifying
performance.

— The End —