Monday, 1 October 2018

Helen's lost clothing

Helen suggested we write about clothes - then didn't turn up for the writing - but we wrote about clothes anyway! Firstly 'lost' clothing, then a 'significant item' of clothing, something with special meaning, and finally an occasion when we 'dressed to impress'. It is interesting to hear the stories and the feelings that can be found in clothing unfold in these poems which are imbued with the lives of those around us. Here is a sampling of our writing on clothes.



"Fabulous!" I dryly think, after looking at myself in the bedroom's wall hung mirror. The gut's sticking out. "Jelly wobbles and the t-shirt only slightly hides it!" And my mind flies back to another time, when I was a student and it was "year two" of studying "Law" (which I changed out of the next year); and I bought a top, that mysteriously disappeared, after I'd tried it on, to see how it "fits". It had several buttons, strapless and black, stiff cotton. I didn't try it before I bought it. I bought it second hand. It just disappeared, and I don't know how - I now can't remember where I bought it from! It did fit. Who would think so now! I lived in "Thames Street" then. A "magical' place where ornaments and little art pieces (that I bought - second hand - again) often disappeared. But the place won't win - I believe. Still - those things are liked and I "try" on! "Do you remember to eat Jelly?" Someone says - as I linger over tea sipping. "Jelly witch will get you!" "We'll see."

- nbvg



DOUGLAS?

I bought it in the Department Store
in Glasgow, passing through
a sturdy scarf of soft lambswool
woven in tartan blue.
It's heritage I did not care
it was the one I wanted
and so I wore it year by year
warm in our Southern Winter.

I washed it not, I did not want
to spoil the gentle fibres
and took good care to take it home
when out in Winter's gales.

It is no more within my house,
lost, I know not where;
on visit to another place
it fell from off a chair,
or in a car or on the road,
I sadly, did not note it
'til Winter's fingers
grab and chill
Tell me, Go on, wear it!

                           - Karen



MY FATHER'S HUG

Coloured in browned mustard it held to the rack at the Rock and Pillar shop.  I had thought to find something for myself but it shouted "Dad" at me when I spotted it.

      heavy canvas
      zip front
      raised collar
      internal and external pockets
      fleece lining
      domed cuffs
      ...   Huge price!
            ...   Lifetime Guarantee!

He wore it as he took the Walkie Talkies around Christchurch;
loving the preparation, searching books and internet for details of the buildings they passed.
The earthquakes took those buildings,  and he wore the jacket less as his steps faltered into much older age.
At his end I took the jacket - Lifetime Guarantee -
 the only fault now, two threads loose at the cuffs.


                              - Karen



THE LAND OF LOST SOCKS

In the land of lost socks
Was a cardboard box
Full of odd foot garments
With lots of fluff and lint
I have looked for this land
But only found garments for hands
Though its socks I love
The garments all be gloves

- Phillip Porteous



FACEBOOK PHOTO

The grey suit made of wool
The tie too, please don't pull
Gold cuff-links
Sunglasses with tints
At a friend's band
A free ticket and
Clothes from an op-shop
A stylish tie with colour pop
Then a photo op
To post on Facebook
Everyone liked the look

- Phillip Porteous



REALISING THE VALUE

Oh hell, where is it?
It's not on my wrist
I know it should be
The bracelet Dad bought me
The only jewellery he ever bought me
My link to him
Gone
Panic
Tears
Walking round the flat crying
I know I haven't gone outside, so it must be here
Searching
Through the bed
Through my clothes
Empty the rubbish bag out...
Oh thank God
Tears of joy now
Found
Reunited

- Christine Philp



ON A CHAIN AROUND MY NECK

You'll rarely see me without it
Hanging round my neck
Given to me by Nana.
Not valued for many years
Boring, when  there was such a range I could wear.
Now, essential
Worn every day.
My niece played with it so much
She stretched the catch
Oh the anxiety when I left it at the jeweller's
Questioning their security.
Disappointed at no photos inside
She drew her own
And they're still there
More than 10 years later
Two very important people
On a chain around my neck.

- Christine Philp


Playful Poems

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