Skirt related poetry

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crfriend
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Re: Skirt related poetry

Post by crfriend »

Sinned wrote:C'mon Carl, with your penchant for language the challenge is there.
I haven't dabbled in poetry since I was a youngster being forced to read -- and memorize -- rather jingoistic stuff which compelled me to exercise my right-to-parody. E.g. in response to Emerson's Concord Hymn:

By the crude plank that crossed the mud,
His shirt to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the noisy drunk stood
and burped the belch heard 'round the world.


Yes, I got sent to the headmaster's office for that one.

I much prefer wielding prose.
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Re: Skirt related poetry

Post by STEVIE »

You dont like my skirt
My rools
I wont never let
U be
The boss of me.
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moonshadow
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Re: Skirt related poetry

Post by moonshadow »

Okay... I didn't pen this tonight, it's been on my website for a while...

I don't know if it counts as a "poem", but it was from the heart none the less. It does mention me in a dress so I guess it's somewhat on topic. The feminine clothing has helped me to learn more of who I am, and to embrace it.

This is based on a somewhat true story, that technically took place before I was wearing skirts, however I was wearing the robe. This would have been circa 2011-2012, location: Gatewood Reservoir.

2010 was a special year for me, that was the year I turned 30 and started to have a different outlook on matters. It wasn't an easy year, nor were the ones to follow. But such as it is on these type of journeys. They are filled with highs and lows. Those were the "baby steps" on the road to discovering the person I was, shedding the skin of my former self, the person that the world conditioned me to be.

From that point onward, I would explore the creator (a.k.a. "God") in my own way, leaving behind all organized religious viewpoints. Through those channels, I learned that I was not bound to the social expectations placed upon me for simply being a regular white American guy. My body may be the property of the U.S. government, but my soul was mine to explore. I did a lot of soul searching at Gatewood. It is a simply magickal place. To this day, when I find the world has beaten me into the ground, I often make the pilgrimage to Pulaski County VA to rest my spirit for a bit.

It is my sacred ground.

In the writing, it is noted of the breeze flowing around my legs... this was the first time I had such a sensation... it is one I would never forget. I recall thinking at that time how nice it would be to be able to wear something like this all of the time! But alas... that's impossible... guys aren't allowed to wear that stuff.....

Ahh... like I said... it was the FIRST step of a very long and ongoing journey... I would have never guessed that only nine years later wearing such things would be so second nature.... Hehehe... I can remember wearing the robe through the woods and freaking out every time I heard a rustle in the leaves.. thinking a hiker, hunter, or somebody would catch me wearing these forbidden clothes! :wink:

Sitting on the side of the road, waiting for the coast to be clear to dart into my car before I was seen.... HA! Now I wear them everywhere! :mrgreen:

The writing below is based on the story of the night I took off into the mountains of the Jefferson National Forest late in the night, to seek God and all her wonders....

The walk of life can feel long, sometimes painful.

On a cool summer night, I find myself walking alone in the forest.

The sound of the crickets and other bugs fills the air.

A gentle breeze rustles the trees as their silhouette cast a moons shadow on the ground.

The stresses that have unfolded are overflowing the senses.

I come to a stream and cross it feeling the cold water work its way over my feet, between my toes.

Across the other side, I continue on my journey.

The breeze flutters my dress in the wind, I feel natures breath on my legs.

After some time, I find a clearing, and seat myself on the edge of some half rotted log.

With my legs together, and my hands in my lap, I sit and absorb the moon light.

For a period, I bow my head and close my eyes.

The emotions swell in my mind, and I find I can not contain myself any longer.

I weep. Kneeling forward I fall to my knees, and feel the dampness of the Earth soak through the dress.

After a bit of time has passed, I find I can cry no more.

I rise to my feet, look on the moon and her magickal light.

I hold out my hands to embrace the love of my creator.

Not just the moon, but everything, the universe and it's entirety.

I am reminded that I am her child, and she looks after me.

A peaceful feeling comes over me, the stiff feeling of dried tears on my face now.

My lips whisper a quiet prayer of gratitude.

I stand, silent, but not alone.

The gift of the creator is in my heart, it is in my soul, it fills my spirit.

I find I do not know what to say.

It matters not, for she knows my thoughts.

We all share the same love.

She quietly watches over us all, ready to answer our call for spiritual rest.

She demands no elaborate ritual, or lengthy prayer.

She is the Lady of all creation, Mother of the Universe and everything that came before will come after.

She doesn't bother with jealousy, or being worshiped.

She is always there whether we call her or not.

Never complaining, never inflicting wrath.

She created our souls, she watches them grow, and when they are ready to return home, she welcomes them.

She is the embodiment and the gift of the feminine.

There is a little bit of her in all of us.

With such beauty and humble virtue, how could I hide this light in my soul?
-Andrea
The old hillbilly from the coal fields of the Appalachian mountains currently living like there's no tomorrow on the west coast.
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Sinned
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Re: Skirt related poetry

Post by Sinned »

Moon, technically it doesn't count as poetry but it's moving and obviously comes from the heart. Poetry doesn't have to rhyme and you can have blank verse where the test forms the regular metrical but no rhyme. But as arbiter of this thread I'll allow it on grounds of feeling of content and intent. Of course you could turn it into blank verse or a true poem but on second thoughts I'm not sure it would be improved in doing so. Than you Moon, for sharing a part of yourself with us. It can involve many risks.
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Re: Skirt related poetry

Post by STEVIE »

A long time ago and in a galaxy far away, I wrote these bits.
I had thought that I had lost them forever, but thanks to modern technology, here they are anew.
In the cafe today I believe that SkirtyScot, Big and Bashful and Skirting Today are the only ones to have seen the originals.
These words served me very well when I was the "newbie" around here.
Steve,
WARTS N ALL

Hey, like the skirt,
Bet it’s a shock
But what do you think?
Weird or wonderful
Good or bad
This is me
In honesty
Giggles allowed
Friendly smile too
If you really hate it
Too Bad!

Me in a skirt
Just not every day
Don’t have that much freedom
Too much risk
Not to mention ridicule
Been a long time
No, not gay
Wife, family and close friends,
All who need to know
Skeleton in closet
Now on the loose


WHO WEARS THE TROUSERS

Kennedy in a skirt
Just who does he think he is
Who’s he trying to kid
Wife and kids
It’s them I feel for

One for the road
A double
At least mine
Know who
Wears the trousers

Only one
Offisher
Boy and girl
Taking them home
No skirts on me

Blow bag
Troosers me
Kennedy skirt
He’s the weirdo
Oh, nae fair


OH WOULD
Oh that I could see myself from afar
As others may see me
Am I really being selfish in my choices
Manipulative in my ways
Inflicting agonising progression

Nigh on fifty years
My secret kept
Now to change the record
No more lying or hiding
Behind the trousered facade

Stephen, Stevie, Steve
Take your pick
He likes to don a skirt
Looks good or not
Simply put a choice

But do you see a freak
A pervert or individual
Does it matter
A view from afar
Or not at all.

IN A SKIRT
Freedom and roundness
All flowing and fluid
Perfectly relaxed
And a certain vulnerability

A natural progression
From the shackles
Which are trousers
No more division

Long or short
Must mind
Sitting or standing
Next weeks washing

Simply put
My preferred mode
My choice
More so MY LIFE

OH WID THAT SOME GIFTY GIE US TAE SEE OORSELS AS ITHERS SEE US


HAVING THE NERVE

Sunday morning up and alive
The promise of the day
Not fulfilled
Somebody took a second look.


The Riffle.
A windy day, a pain or a pleasure.
Well, what does it do for you?
In a skirt, much thought and,
care to be taken.
Wrong, easily embarrassing.
The right, so superb, so rewarding,
a movement unique and sensual.
Form over fashion, trousers just don’t,
do, no risk , no gain.
Big and Bashful
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Re: Skirt related poetry

Post by Big and Bashful »

Ooh, I really like The Riffle,
That really strikes a chord with me. Thanks Stevie!
I am the God of Hellfire! and I bring you truffles!
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Sinned
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Re: Skirt related poetry

Post by Sinned »

Very good Stevie, the sort that need to be read more than once to appreciate the flavour of the imagery.
I believe in offering every assistance short of actual help but then mainly just want to be left to be myself in all my difference and uniqueness.
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