#garment
action shot through with words
seamless unified garment of love.
Mar 25
Mar 25, 2026 at 6:12 AM UTC
Feeling good is:
Greeting a stranger with a smile,
Chatting with your elderly neighbor's,
And treating them with care and compassion.
Soothing another's pain,
Feeding hungry stomachs,
Standing with the oppressed,
Rendering service to others for no return.
Exploring a new idea,
Enriching your knowledge,
Reflecting and pondering,
Planting the seeds of positive change.
Listening to the whispers of love,
Inspiring the next generation,
Being around intelligent people,
Enjoying the company of soft-hearted friends.
Restoring people's shattered dreams,
Be their candle and their lifeboat,
Listening to the cries of innocent souls,
And showing them the way to a new dawn.
Lifting the spirit of the broken-hearted,
Delivering them through a helping hand,
Dressing your soul in a garment of giving.
Lifting your voice to be the champion of the forgotten.
Counting your blessings,
Reciting your prayers,
Contemplating the universe,
Listening to nature’s songs with muted words.
Hussein Dekmak
Aug 8, 2021
Aug 8, 2021 at 1:05 PM UTC
Your beautiful garment of kindness has been the talk of the twinkling Stars and the glorious moon.
Their chatter has awakened the sleepy sun, stirring up her curiosity, and Creating a fascination.
Your magnificent garment of kindness has touched the planet's heart, and Made her bow with humility, reciting God’s sacred prayer!
Hussein Dekmak
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 12:28 PM UTC
The princess of the sea, Beirut, triumphantly will rise above her sorrows and wounds. For over five thousand years, she has grown to be tough and resilient. With the break of a new dawn, Beirut will be enchanted, and will be wearing her garment of beauty with a welcoming smile.
Hussein Dekmak
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 8:31 PM UTC
The City Is a Garment
by Michael R. Burch
A rhinestone skein, a jeweled brocade of light,—
the city is a garment stretched so thin
her neon colors bleed into the night,
and everywhere bright seams, unraveling,
cascade their brilliant contents out like coins
on motorways and esplanades; bead cars
come tumbling down long highways; at her groin
a railtrack like a zipper flashes sparks;
her hills are haired with brush like cashmere wool
and from their cleavage winking lights enlarge
and travel, slender fingers ... softly pull
themselves into the semblance of a barge.
When night becomes too chill, she quickly dons
great overcoats of warmest-colored dawn.
Published by The Lyric, Sonnetto Poesia, Poetry Life & Times, The Eclectic Muse, Freshet, Better Than Starbucks, Jar of Quotes and Verse Weekly
Keywords/Tags: City, rhinestone, garment, neon, colors, night, bright, lights, cars, highways, motorways, railroads, sparks, hills, river, barges, boats
Mar 6, 2020
Mar 6, 2020 at 4:21 AM UTC
Plant a tree,
Water a flower,
Preserve nature.
Have a purpose!
Feed a bird,
Cuddle a pet,
Be humane to animals.
Have a purpose!
Save a life,
Nurture an orphan,
Stand up with the oppressed.
Have a purpose!
Count your blessings,
Recite your prayers,
Contemplate the universe.
Have a purpose!
Nurture your mind with ideas,
Fill your heart with the wine of love,
Dress your soul with the garment of kindness.
Have a purpose!
Hussein Dekmak
Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 10:27 AM UTC
To be a shining star,
Is to be the echo of love that caresses
A weeping heart with two hugs and a smile!
To be a shining star,
Is to dress your soul in the eternal
Garment of kindness and render service to others!
To be a shining star,
Is to have every fiber of your being glow with so much
Humanity that the darkness of the entire universe is illuminated!
Hussein Dekmak
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 9:57 PM UTC
As he'd flip his hat
his ties have shone
though quaint in fact
just belied and bade
his call of freedom yet
his mapping afield where
he'd belay topography
and his harmony too
with hint of something new
even enticed quite averse
that hastened to implore
he cherished that linen
more refined in his attire
as he must wear it again.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
YOUR OWN HEM
By David Omodunmiju
The power in Him runs even through His garment
It could make your healing permanent
Ending your pain in a moment
It’s what you get, when your Father is omnipotent
She would have died, weighing the crowd
But her faith was far too proud
Her cry wouldn’t have meant a thing, though loud
But her desperation for healing changed the cloud
Now you don’t need that much
Healing has advanced to faith not touch
Even so, build not your faith from the environment
And enough of the mere talks
Resign from the dead works
Wake up! Days of turns are gone
Else like the ******* by the river, you’ll be there for long
Now the violent are the ones who take it
You’ll need your violence of faith to make it
These tears won’t help you receive
The equations have changed, don’t be deceived
It’s now faith plus work that equals achieve
Your faith might just be your own hem.
- David Omodunmiju
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
I said I love that black sando
You said it's tank top
Whatever it is, sweetheart
I just want you to know
You are always adorable to me
Whether you wear black or white
It is not the outside that I see
But your golden heart inside
So when I say I love that tank top
I want to hug and kiss it
I actually mean I love you
I want to hug and kiss you
The way you hug and kiss me
Since you took my heart
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 9:20 AM UTC
Many doctors had failed to heal her;
her wealth was gone; unable to cope,
seemingly having no options left, she…
faced the idea of being bereft of hope.
A difficult issue of continual bleeding,
had bothered this woman for twelve years;
purposely maneuvering through the crowd,
she hoped to meet Christ, and draw near.
“If only, I could physically touch Him,
my personal need can be forever met.”
Summoning the last of her inner strength,
she pressed onward without any regret.
Her health was dramatically worsening
and drastic action was now required;
since Christ was visibly close by,
perhaps healing she urgently desired
would become available to her this day.
Moving boldly with faith towards Him,
silently reaching out for his garment
with her weakened, slender limb…
she briefly caressed the hem of His robe.
And suddenly- her discomfort was gone!
Without warning, virtue leapt out of Him;
and now He wanted a face to gaze upon.
To everyone’s astonishment, He stopped;
then came the simple, unexpected question:
“Who touched me?” He patiently inquired.
Initially, there was apparent confusion,
from not knowing who, He was addressing.
Scared and embarrassed, she fell face down
at His feet, ready to weep and apologize.
“Rise up my daughter, from the dusty ground;
tell me your life’s story of suffering;
since your faith was successfully released,
My strength has cured you of your agony;
return home with my blessings and peace.”
.
.
.
Author Notes
Loosely based on:
Mark 5:24-34
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC