#cloth
fraternal universe
cosmos family
pulsarhearts
supernovas
black holes
mysterious creatures.
Mar 21
Mar 21, 2026 at 9:04 AM UTC
Weft and warp
started January 22nd, 2021
The cloth is woven
weft and warp
twigs and twine
bits and pieces
gaps and flaws
make the fabric
of my life.
I try to worry out
the threads that I know
aren't right
the flaws that threaten collapse
yet have become
integral parts
of the weft and warp
that is me.
I smooth this cloth
with my worn hands
then fold it up
and put it away
to work on
another day.
Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 10:07 AM UTC
A coop
Unannounced and spilt again
It's warmth a discontent
Clasping of the chest
Face now grimaced to
groan alone
Sensation dead
Hushed in quiet breath
Salty broth on cloth
musked in scent
This soup is not my friend
Isolation in the end
Jun 8, 2020
Jun 8, 2020 at 6:54 PM UTC
"I have a name and it’s Jaylen Foster
I am two weeks old.
But the size of my big feet
Will foretell my future:
big things to come
I am the third generation of Fosters
What the world need now is love sweet love
It is the new normal, the beginning of a bad ending
Social distancing, mask trending, and facetime,
My new world.. Six feet apart, no options
Only restriction: for them or for me??
The truth for our futuristic endeavors is to
Wear a mask, or stay at home..
I saw the smile, on her face, her laughter is contagious
The joy of being a grandmother, pretty Joy for Paula
Proud moments for my father and mother..
a new beginning for a grandfather: David
Love and happiness for a two weeks old me
And distance kisses for cousin: Annie
Annie said the meaning of my name is Joy
My grandmother's voice says nothing can surprise her.
My grandmothers’ voice, says wisdom,
My grandmother’s laughter is genuine,
When it comes to me.. Jaylen Foster
Keep the pictures coming?
Meant keeping Joy alive
May 23, 2020
May 23, 2020 at 9:43 AM UTC
Expelled before I could haunt
your time,
I wanted to be within you.
Wanting to wonder your halls,
but I wasn't given time
to
show you that not every floor board
was creepy, I just wanted to show
that you weren't alone,
what did I have to lose
I was no body..
But you exorcized your right,
had that cloth man come
in your house...
But I showed him
that there is more
than one way to
defrock a cloth...
I locked him in his mind,
for a man of god there were some
dark things in there to
keep him in purgatory
for more than this life time.
I touched your face,
it wasn't cold but warmth,
never to harm but to keep safely
from those who'd do you harm.
A ring spins on the floor, words circular
at speed spelling out in blurred exhaustion.
I love you....
Feb 15, 2020
Feb 15, 2020 at 5:22 PM UTC
Wrapped in cloths I watched
Shedding everything she stood -
Foolish winter tree.
Dec 26, 2019
Dec 26, 2019 at 12:54 AM UTC
There once was a girl who was sad
she wear what is black so to hide
when summer is here the dress,
it calls heat that drenches
these cloth in summer will have her mad.
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 6:53 AM UTC
When we first basked
In the moonlight’s ever
Opposing gaze
Stating our soliloquies
Of admiration
Of love
You gave me a jacket
To warm the coldness of
My heart
Now you’re gone
And now I am left
With nothing more than
This cloth
To represent the love you had for me
Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 11:09 AM UTC
Sniffing her **** cloth,
so fresh..
Hanging in the wind..
The moon shows him,
there like flags on
a hill top to capture...
She wakes up in the morning
to find that her Frenches
have gone a miss...
Hearing the sneezes,
from her next door
but one neighbour..
"You perv..
"Watch out what you sniff,
Her ****** never went missing after that day,
but her eyes did water a few
days later...
Forgetting that the itching sneezing powder
wasn't in only one..
and she giggled as she gently scratched.
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 4:50 PM UTC
the boy was fatherless
the day was the feast
the boy stood beside the wall
he had more sadness
the poor is the worst
he had not money at all
the torn was his appearance
he could not say a word
or buy any valuable
the prophet saw him in clearance
he approached and asked
" why don't you stand beside the wall?"
"Why don't appear the happiness?"
he said, "oh! sir prophet Muhammad
my father was killed at a case
i have no money to buy a game at all
or buy a new cloth"
the prophet wipe his head
he said," are you accept me to be your father
and my wife be your mother"
the boy smile and his tears were ascended
the prophet took him to the home at speed
he ordered his wife to wash him
and brought him a new cloth and a game
the boy became happy
he thanked the prophet and became gratefully
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 12:13 PM UTC
Red for the blood dripping from a vein
White for the sheets that cover the dead
Blue for the visible beyond that is the sky
For every drop of red silk that
Glitters in the sun
One is a step closer to freedom
From the blood that ties us
To its fiery core
For every pure cotton cloth that
Shadows over the deceased
One has risen halfway,
Breaking their ties
With the underground deep below
For every new light
Borne from the dreamy blue sky
One has earned their freedom
From their mundane, mortal body
No longer held down by hunger
No longer held by thirst
No longer needing shelter
No longer needing clothing
Freedom from Earth
Comes in shades of
Red, white, and blue
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 10:24 PM UTC
I am a hijab,
A piece of soft cloth,
firmly and gracefully pinned around her head,
Covering her hair,ears and neck,
not her face.
I am a fabric in different colours,
most commonly in black or white.
I am her safe guard,
Against the harsh sun and wind,
Unwanted men's glares,
Their sneers and harsh words,
Her beauty, pride and soul within.
For her,I command respect,
Make unknown men keep their distance.
I give her a symbol of purity and piety,
Together with serenity in her eyes.
Because of me she is not oppressed,
She is as free as a bird,
To soar over mountains,cross oceans,play sports of her choice and achieve the best education.
She enjoys life but by having me around her she pleases Allah too.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 11:41 AM UTC
I wanted to walk
along the earth
on this great shore.
But before long
it dips in the sea
into the ocean.
It's not a problem
I see is a ******
still has the cloths on!
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 10:31 AM UTC
Denim and cotton,
Rolling tides of fabric swaths
They tumble softly
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 12:50 PM UTC
a primate
attire there
as my
lore was
ape yet
let wet
his tainted
collar this
relationship
with a
speckle that
tore his
tie with
an emancipation
of a
war with
sinister graft.
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 8:50 AM UTC
there is this pithless entity
circling round my gut
waxing and waning
folding in infinite measures
like stiff cloth finding creases
that fit
and I caress this part
inside which has no fold
or definite pattern
but there is this power
and it increases as the light
of lesser days burn into night
brightly devouring
all lesser fabrications
willing them to speak
in hushed whispers
bathed by blackness
completely surrounded am I
a vagrant soul departed
yearning for this star of gasses
to not combust but
slowly awaken
and you spark that within me
heavy and unaware
a messy cloth of vibrance
washed and wrung and folded gently
with shaking hands and thumping breath
the atmosphere surrounding
all that is real
enveloping my body as it speaks
of glorious wonders
operating deep
within the cosmos
where air is sealed tight
like a vacuum and
I can't help but breathe in
even though
I know
I'll suffocate
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 1:18 PM UTC
And let me down easy but do break my heart
Otherwise I'll never know if I should chase after y'all. And the longing comes nightly, the bourbon rings twice, every time I'm out living, y'all stop me from dying. But a man is worth pennies when his work is the dirt, and I've never known forgiveness I've only ever known hurt.
With my skin on the desert, my hands cut from the piste. If a man's responsible for fire, then it must be woman who's made the stream. Everything is an eyesore when plague cuts at your flock, and the shepherd is aching to be rid of his cloth, the end of evil corrupts it, the sheriff he breaks his own laws. They take all that they want, leave you to look up to the dust, you can't sustain the pains of heartache, you words shorter while you talk. So please take it away, the flat and the plains. And only fires concern them, water drowns for them and cries. I don't need no one to listen, no one to soften my eyes. I've been bit by the river, it's taken my breaths. Filled my chest full of water, brought my time to new depths. I saw the valley, and I saw the moors. I saw the valley, just tell me, will she be here tomorrow? I've seen the valley, and I've seen the moors, just please won't you tell me, will she be here tomorrow?
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 2:40 AM UTC
Reglossing, rewashing, removing, returning,
she kept using the same cloth to wipe up this mess.
All of the same mistakes constantly repeating,
spools of half-hearted "I'm sorry's" unwinding,
foolproof promise to cover for her missed absence.
I persist reloading, rewinding, replaying
watching the film of our lives together, pausing
at moments where temporarily, I confess,
unpredictable happiness ceased repeating.
This trainwreck of a show carries on, blistering
slides that I want to swipe clean, but her name suppress
stained slates developing, deflecting, destroying.
I throw away the footage, romanticizing
sheer ideas of finally making progress
forgetting her. But relapse results repeating
bad habits. There is not a remedy. I cling
to the seasons of the past, wanting to digress
reminding, rewinding, removing, regretting.
'Til the cloth clears again, chaos keeps repeating.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
The past unfurls
With silver memories
Like messy cloth,
Tarnished or frayed;
Each life woven with yours
And so many paths crossing
Twining over and under
A stitch dropped, or added
Shadowed or shining
And all being woven
With the thread you are spinning,
Spinning,
Spun
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
Do I deceive myself
To believe, that
There is more to life
Than past, present and future?
That, intertwined
In the fabric of existence
There are threads
Of a deeper purpose,
Threads that bind
All we know, feel and see
These connections
Span time
To make us all we are
What is knitted in our past
Is woven in our present
To create the cloth
We unfold
Tomorrow
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
@The Jacket.
Love, can I treat you like I treat my jacket? Taking you wherever I go, showing the love I have for you through my sleeves and tuning you to my body, pulsating throbs of my heart as our two frictions force reaction.
I want to have you close to me, heavy hood be your hair as it sinks close to me, covering my neck with loving protection, covering my shoulders with your arms entwined with mine as if we were truly one, covering my length and letting me know that we are at a temperature of comfort and ability.
I want your body to clothe me, zip up tight and never let go, hugging me with all the comfort in the world and lifting yourself as to be a silent watcher to me, a shield to my being from the enemies that threaten us.
I want your hands to be the pockets, close yet separate, deeply rooted as if it were your faith placed near my sides. Holding me as I hold you.
I want our love to be the zipper, running through both our forms, creating a new feeling, making a new being, forging us.
Yet who are we? Who are we to claim to be so close in cloth yet so young in mind, so strong in emotion and so weak in body?
We are the very fabric of nature, hooking to machines that form the sewed outlines of other such fabrics, forming the earth and inciting war among our emotion.
We walk through the public proudly, you clinging to me and I, chest puffed like a bird in mating season, acquiring a taste for the strange looks and stranger people who deem to judge us based on their understanding.
Hot weather, cold weather, mild and comfortable weather. Rain or snow, sleet, hail, or hell’s heat, I intend to keep you close, as you are more than cloth covering me, you are the being caressing me, kissing my spirit and cradling my heart in the warm grasps of your fabrics, pressed closely to my chest in an attempt to make me feel better about myself, hiding my form so that none shall see what I deem stay hidden.
And I shall love you, I shall do all that I can to keep you safe and keep you near, mend you and wash you, clearing your mind and body of the impure, soaking your fabric and drying them out once more. Tonguing your soul while hugging you back, rubbing your threaded flaws and letting you know that they are necessary, that they are noted and left as forgotten. Unafraid to dawn you and worthy to criticize yet keeping grateful to have you when the nights get cold and my soul needs your warmth.
The world is a cruel place, and it gets worse every day, which is why, my love, I want you to be my jacket, and I shall be yours.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC