"macrame" poems
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
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
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.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 6:43 AM UTC
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?
Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 6:31 PM UTC
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 !
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
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.
Jul 20, 2010
Jul 20, 2010 at 9:58 PM UTC
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.
Let the adventure begin,
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.
It indeed is fairy dust and wanderlust that make our hands do what the heart desires.
Tighten the knots of angelic intervention
Design a macrame of enlightenment, deliverance and positive awakening's,
Create a masterpiece of life's treasury.
© Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 6:08 AM UTC
Faded brick streets,
Iron-colored pathway
Leading us downtown
Lilac shirt,
**** black raspberries,
Bursts of sweet, floral blueberries on my tongue
Old ladies in long dresses
with baskets full of vegetables
Saturday morning
Honey in espresso
Bluegrass in the blue grass
16, 17, 18 windows
Waving at little ones
while fathers' backs are turned
Sweet little braids and pink bows
Brown, but golden in the sun
Busy streets on market mornings
Moss-covered picnic tables
Giggling under shaded hide-aways
Breathe in the present
Sunshine shimmering through Maple trees
Beads of sweat;
rolling down water bottles and my forehead
Glass, pottery, and macrame
Herbs, microgreenery, and fruit
My mouth waters
with thoughts of sautees and soups
Robins chirp over the bustling morning crowd
The scent of fresh baked sourdough
carried by the breeze
Young, hip parents intermingling with kind, old farmers
All of us captivated with the now
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 12:16 PM UTC
You twist my words
into forms I don’t recognize
it’s almost like
art
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 6:29 PM UTC
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
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
a girl tole me she loved me
I kept sippin my beer
she persisted
so did i
..................
once a girl loved me
thru the passin of years
we never said nothin
to eachother
about it
.........
the girl that i married
(now what IS her name?)
you can go ask her
if you must know
i think she's in the park with the kid
...........
i write poetry
she does macrame
sometimes i help her
what a mess
i do the simple square knots
she does the rest
................
when it comes to the revolution
she's miss liberty
of the story
the fullest meaning
she looks at all creation
with a sense of nurturing
.......
she never tole me she loves me
i mean "why?"
if a thing aint known
it must be a lie
Jul 24, 2010
Jul 24, 2010 at 1:41 PM UTC
you felt like a new texture, a fabric i'd never slipped through before,
but darling,
you and i are merely old habits gussied up in
tulle and a paper mache artifice - ghoul masquerading as prima ballerina
fouette for me baby, twirl me dizzier than a whirling dervish
and flounce me on my head to spin out over this choreographed failure.
i've shoveled so much chocolate in my mouth-hole this weekend
i think i'm rotting from the inside out,
made of only sugar blisters and quicksand sores
that are bursting new caverns to life
crafting a base relief depiction of my longing into my throat,
how deliciously destructive!
i'm loony-eyed swooning over this 90-watt moon replica
and these reflector paint stars!
oh, i think i'll trade the entire night sky for this masterpiece
and a macrame bandage for my chest,
much more utilitarian than the atmosphere i drown in these days.
my reckless howling and witchcrafting whimsy
have loosed my lungs from their cage,
wheezing out an incantation into the far-reaching wind,
Everest is ablaze under my spell
sobbing it's ice into the earth and
melting it's bones to ash in my palms.
some men just want to watch the world burn,
i, however, merely want to reconstruct it
from the bottom, up
shoveling all of its innards to the surface
and making the unseen
known.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
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...
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
Forecast was for rain,
Misdiagnosed a pain,
What we got was mist,
That hung in the air, tiny cysts,
That clung, to pant legs,
To sleeves, to skin and
To the glasses, that beheld
Them,
Like spots before my eyes,
As all passed through them.
The Collective heaviness,
Was not felt but the steadiness,
Of the curtain after curtain of,
Droplets on fine twine, some seed
beaded Macrame, threaded not
Threatening, to pass the time as
You pass their way, they keep the
Peace
And soak you as an afterthought.
Hippies dripping in love,
A mist for the generations.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 1:24 AM UTC
Sometimes I don't really remember people
by their specifics or
characteristics.
Their hair,
their eyes,
their body,
sometimes even minds and personalities
become a blur
cuz
I remember people
by the feelings that which they leave me.
I am painfully aware of their
swift entrances and
immediate exits,
leaving me bewildered
as to how and why they
came to be
But for some reason,
I can recall
(almost) every detail
about you.
I remember
gleaming azures
and head-topped sandy blonde.
I remember
macrame, leather jackets
a confident voice
and a six-string gizmo.
I remember
your body: long and lean
secure
Electric
But mostly,
I remember
the multitude of feelings that which you left me.
Curiosity.
Understanding.
Euphoria.
And finally, disappointment.
Not with you, though.
With my naivety.
My impressionable soul
clings to the people who
captivate me,
and you sir,
were riddle and enchantment.
The ideal.
And you still are
in the way that mysteries tend to be;
unforgettable stories
of pure bliss.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
A knot work spell is an easy way
To breathe magic into macrame.
An anchor knot for an aid
so I don’t drop my braid.
I try to tie well,
for each knot is a spell
I don’t want to unravel.
Carefully binding
to seal in my intentions.
A mantra, repeated with each loop.
I am loved,
I am loved,
I am loved.
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 9:16 PM UTC
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.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 3:28 PM UTC
Lifelong song
Sung .....
From innocence
Into efflorescence
subtlety with ease elevated me
I gravitated to her temptation
As natural as falling into destiny
The essence of my enchantress
Enamoring nuances.
Left me defenseless.
Intoxicated with sundry pangs felt in crushed velvet magenta saturated with indigo blue
Beguiled she held me still deliberately
Euphoric glistening tears flowed
so slowly and satisfying her eyes closed .
Even slower the fear of death came and went .........
Loosed her grip slowly squeezed my chest
And with
a sweet
Seductive
Suction
Still deeper into my heart
her fangs sunk in
pains so succulent
I languished in sensual Sickening
agony
Leaving my thirst for her
Unquenchable......
First Love-bite ........
..
the venom is irreversible. ....
It's like being resurrected ....
A cocktail confected from your finest chemicals upbraided into
An attractive macrame ....of attraction
The ultimate inflicted reaction from an infection that causes sexiness and intimate ,
Instant
Addiction ...
Once her teeth sank untill
Her lips touched wet with mine
I lost trust in my mind,
And I knew that only insanity would follow,
And also I know
I cainst let them withdrawal ....
She left me at an intersection
With countless directions
Which lead to any and everywhere.....
And yet for me it's a one way .
And it still feels consensual....
Karma my Queen
You put the hurt on me . .
And love is like the fall
When you learn to fly
Feels like the first time
Everytime I fall in
I love love. .... as much as falling in love.
But
It's the fall I crave ... And I'm a slave to it . It's the sudden stop at the end that I'm afraid of ..
More than anything.
Yet.............it....
Hasn't
stopped me yet
Nov 25, 2021
Nov 25, 2021 at 3:03 PM UTC