To appear and not to be is like weaving and not making cloth.
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Art of Cloth
From fiber, to spinning wheel
From thread, to weaving mill
From textile, to sewing machine
Cloth is continuous ceremony
Whether knitting, whether embroider
Whether patchwork, whether bead work
The beautiful batik, the intricate songket
Cloth is concentration lesson
The strata symbol, the politeness norm
The body art, the cover part
Wedding dress, black tie suit
Cloth is human civilization
From skin, to fabric
From corset, to mini skirt
From blue jeans, to legging
Cloth is history record
Classic style, replied fashion
Color play, motif trend
Mismatch mode, big bang accessories
Cloth is social adaptation
Conservative nerd, ethnic vintage
Religion veil, punk rebel
Costume play, Gothic Lolita
Cloth is identity crisis
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Cloth of Time
The concept of time is
Like a cloth
Waving in the wind.
The wind collides
And bounces,
Causing the cloth to sway.
We are the specks
Of dust
Nestled within
The fibers of time.
This cloth is where
We sleep and wake.
This wind is the result
Of our existence.
When the wind is still
The cloth of time
Hangs
Like a man
Whose time has run out.
poem by by unknown author
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We sleep, but the loom of life never stops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up in the morning.
quote by Henry Ward Beecher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Of A Piece
ALL of a piece were the sunset light,
The rose in the tree, and the golden girl;
Beauty, the weaver, 'twas that wove them,
Weaving deftly, as Beauty can,
Just to capture the eyes of a man,
Just to make the heart of him love them,
Setting the blood in his veins a-swirl;
Ah, the rose, and the girl, its piece-mate!
Ah, the sunset of rose and pearl!
All of a piece are the faded light,
The rose in the mire and the girl grown old;
Beauty, the trickster, 'twas that wove them,
Weaving deftly, as Beauty can,
Just to capture the soul of a man,
Just to make the heart of him love them,
Then to sicken and grow grave-cold;
Fragile wear is the cloth of Beauty —
Rose and sunset and girl of gold!
poem by Roderic Quinn
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In Old Europe and Ancient Crete, women were respected for their roles in the discovery of agriculture and for inventing the arts of weaving and pottery making.
quote by Carol P. Christ
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When One Weaves A Web
When one weaves a web,
It is recommended...
There is a planned exit to take.
Because the weaving of them,
Is difficult to defend...
If one is caught,
And observed in the middle.
To then deny any involvement in its making.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Racism man wearing white
No stop pushing me becos
of the colour of my cloth
if nothing is done my cloth
will torn
i cann't put on white to please
you
my cloth is n't white
so leave me with my
own colour
if you do n't leave me alone
i will be force to shout
for help and if nobody help
i will be force to fight
and if i fight i will fight
to the last
so stop this racism of white
and black cloth.
poem by Senator alufalism
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Indian Weavers
WEAVERS, weaving at break of day,
Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . .
Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild,
We weave the robes of a new-born child.
Weavers, weaving at fall of night,
Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . .
Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green,
We weave the marriage-veils of a queen.
Weavers, weaving solemn and still,
What do you weave in the moonlight chill? . . .
White as a feather and white as a cloud,
We weave a dead man's funeral shroud.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Lift Me Up Like You've Plucked a Buttercup
When you come around finding you have found,
You've settled down.
With slowed jets ready to quit your lippin'
And prepared to sit and begin to listen'...
You've done shifted from a drifter position.
And it's there to be gripped!
All that life has blessed you with!
ooo-ooo
Many in fits can't handle what they get.
And they seek partnerships...
That end in arguments,
Gone ballistic.
Left in realistic lethal pieces.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.
Just leave don't mention...
Any attitude you've got,
That's dropped you mopin'!
Take a little whiff of me I'll free you easy.
I'm that destiny you need.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.
When you come around finding you have found,
You've settled down.
With slowed jets ready to quit your lippin'
And prepared to sit and begin to listen'...
You've done shifted from a drifter position.
And it's there to be gripped!
All that life has blessed you with!
ooo-ooo
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.
ooo-ooo
Just Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Kiss To Build A Dream On
Give me a kiss to build a dream on
And my imagination will thrive upon that kiss
Sweetheart, I ask no more than this
A kiss to build a dream on
Give me a kiss before you leave me
And my imagination will feed my hungry heart
Leave me one thing before we part
A kiss to build a dream on
When Im alone with my fancies...Ill be with you
Weaving romances...making believe theyre true
Give me your lips for just a moment
And my imagination will make that moment live
Give me what you alone can give
A kiss to build a dream on
(instrumental break)
When Im alone with my fancies...Ill be with you
Weaving romances...making believe theyre true
Give me a kiss to build a dream on
And my imagination will thrive upon that kiss
Ah sweetheart, I ask no more than this
A kiss to build a dream on
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man's making, , , !
Flowers are
Making
Beauty...
Trees are
Making
Wonder...
Rain are
making
River...
Sun are
Making
Day...
Moon are
Making
Night...
Man are
Making
Many thing's supper
Something's is
Tenson...
Woory...
Hurry. ..
With out love of heart...! ?
Day for day
Man's making...! ?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Prejudice
Prejudice
Is like having sharp claw
That keeps scratching the thin cloth of trust under our feet
Every time we walk further
Making a long line of mistrust
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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A Tapestry for Life
The weaving of many
threads together
creating a beautiful
tapestry.
A tapestry for life.
Two young lovers
carressing in the moon
light.
Planning for a future
weaving their tapestry
for life.
poem by Heather Burns
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The Beginning...
we try to link drinking coconut wine
with merry making
specifically, alcohol has a way of
numbing sorrow and making happiness
sprout like mongo seeds from
the sack cloth wet with water
it will be cold but the warmth in our
smiles shall start the fire
what next can we do when sorrow
leaves us?
just say it, perhaps i may oblige
for like you i am in deep mourning for i
have lost a part of me
many years ago, sort of saying, sentimentally
that i am incomplete and hopefully
after this drink and another drink
you may see that i am so empty and needs
to be filled again
do not kiss me yet, my mouth is full.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Silken Cloth
Sometimes we look but cannot see
the beauty there before us.
Sometimes we let go of something
we should have hung onto.
This happens all the time
concerning matters of the heart.
Sometimes our head rules our heart
and something wonderful is lost.
In the years that follow,
we live with our regret
of not following our heart
instead of following our head.
We reflect in our memories
making up what might have been,
when it is too late for us
to turn back the clock.
Always wondering what would have happened
if we had followed our heart.
We cannot foresee the future
and our destiny is always shrouded
within a silken cloth.
We can only go where
our future plans to lead us,
and our destiny is written.
Our what ifs and wonderings
are just fragments of our dreams.
Reality is where we live
and our time is mapped out
in a future shrouded
within a silken cloth.
26 September 2011
poem by David Harris
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A Kiss To Build A Dream On
(feat. Arturo Sandoval)
Gimme a kiss to build a dream on
And my imagination
Will thrive upon that kiss
Sweetheart, I ask no more than this
A Kiss to build a dream on
Give me a kiss before you leave me
And my imagination
Will feed my hungry heart
Leave me one thing before we part
A kiss to build a dream on
When I'm alone with my fancies
I'll be with you
Weaving romances
And making believe they're true
So, gimme your lips for just a moment
And my imagination
will make that moment live
Well, give me what you alone can give
A kiss to build a dream on
One kiss, just one kiss
When I'm alone with all my fancies
I'll be dreaming of you
Weaving romances
And making believe they're true
So, gimme your lips for just a moment
and my imagination
will make that moment live
Please give me what you alone can give
A kiss to build a dream on
A kiss to build a dream on
Just a kiss to build a dream on
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Budget
It is alway not right to say cut
Your cloth according to your coat.
It is right to say cloth be collected
keeping in view the size of the coat.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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For A Poet
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold;
Where long will cling the lips of the moth,
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth;
I hide no hate; I am not even wroth
Who found the earth's breath so keen and cold;
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold.
poem by Countee Cullen
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Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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