From Wikimedia Commons
Why does the fabric in my jeans
strain and prickle
as from the need of needles?
impatient with slips of fingertips
of dripping secrets from her dreams
of urgent quotas to be reached.
of unthreaded threats
and groping, kneaded needs of want
The bulging supervision of the men.
The secret in my jeans —
present itself in seams
screaming with her eyelids itching
stitched open with a lack of sleep
deep in the fabric lies
a factory’s secret’s hidden.
in confessions of its deeds.
my jeans are overtime — unpaid
my jeans are salary deductions for
her need to pee.
my jeans are indigo chemicals
diluted into soup
my jeans are her eczema and her life
my jeans were bought on sale
with itches from the seamstress’ days.
—-
Today Anthony wants us to write about confessions at dVerse.. I found them in my jeans.
March 10 2015
Björn Rudbergs writings 
What an interesting poem…it packed with sensuality and the sad realities of life…truly enjoyed this, knowing women who have worked in textile and fashion…such exploitation …so many stories she would have to share. Well done!!
Bravo! I was especially moved by the last stanza – a perspective on jeans opened up to someone behind them.
Well done! A great capture of the perils of people in the garment industry.
I need another coffee. I didn’t catch the textile workers connection at all. Thought it was just lusty jeans. Goodness me, what silly brain! 😉
>
Ha.. could it be a conceit… 🙂 It was my purpose to mix languages here.
Relief all round – and an extra cup of coffee into it as well!
Your poem is a good reminder that perhaps we don’t think about all the workers who produced our jeans….so many suffered to produce them. Saddest statement for me was “my jeans were her eczema and her life.” Yes, if only our jeans could speak!
Your poem reminds me of a documentary I saw about Chinese women who work in factories to make the jeans we wear. They spend about ten years in these sweatshops before getting married. Very powerful poem, Björn!
my jeans are unpaid overtime…this is the curse of salary…ha…or servitude…the bulging supervision of men, i smiled at the turn of phrase, but it also brings up more sinister images….i think we do not think much on where what we use comes from…
love the use of repeated sounds/synonyms in this…but even more, your rant on social justice.
they didn’t itch at one time… I often wonder where some things come from… was at Disney last week… there was some nice beaded items… priced fairly well… could it have been made by some 12 year old in need of food… guess we need to be more grateful to laborers
I have some potential photos for a new header at dVerse… not sure what your theme it… let me know where to send them
send them to me brudberg@gmail.com
oh dang yes – if our clothes could talk they would tell us all kinds of stories that we don’t really wanna hear – the problem is that even the expensive designer stuff is made under the same rotten working conditions… when the kids were small i used to sew our own clothes… back in a full time job, i don’t have the time any more today…sadly
Interesting!
What an interesting confessions from those jeans ~ This made me think of sweat shops where children and young teens are marginally paid/unpaid for the work done ~ I admire the stretching of metaphor to highlight this social and economic issue ~
if my clothes could talk… I’d just go nude 24/7… okay maybe not… but seriously, it is something I do not think about… UNLESS, a company/store gets exposed and I will stop buying from there. Sure enough my wardrobe holds many secrets regardless
We wear our clothing, our jewelry, use our appliances without thinking of the behind the item. When I was in university, I worked several summers in a garment factory that used to be based in the US….punch in, head down, stitch the box of pieces in front of me, put into another box for down the line….hot, air not filtered well….but at lunch break, amazingly – people reading, sharing, talking about their families, how they can send their kid to summer class if they work every Saturday…your jeans spoke memories to me. I sewed the back pockets onto jeans. Good use of this and bringing to mind the people behind the items.
Very creative and unique response, Bjorn!
Bang on rant, & rocking of the prompt, Bjorn. Even Levis are made in Pakistan, & my Lee jeans shred & pop belt loops like aged crones; the workmanship is alright, even though at the expense of the workers, but now it seems, the quality of the material is compromised as well; what a world.
I started off with a knowing smirk… but you caught me on the wrong foot (or in the wrong pair of jeans). Well-penned reminder of the conditions in which most of our clothes are made in…
This is so captivating. The imagery is amazing.
Your empathy is always apparent; I love what you did with this confession!
Tragically funny, or is it funnily tragic? In my business travels I’ve visited some of the “sweat shop” countries, where people work for pennies. Not a pleasant thought, but in context maybe any job is better than none, and starvation.
Bjorn – that was a fun read, and interesting yet commonplace views wielded together. I wonder if there is a story of my tshirt too.
You brought a big smile to my face.
I love this poem. 🙂
Lots to this. I have been simplifying my life, lately by going through the “stuff” that fills the closets of my apartment – and I have to say: when it comes down to whether stuff should stay or go – it has plenty to say.
Yes!! Powerful, Bjorn…I love the secrets you bring forward…especially toward the end…the dirty secrets of how jeans come to be…excellent!
this seemed to me to be a reflection on the forced overseas labor who makes so much of what we wear. I liked the message.
This at first made me laugh, Bjorn – then you revealed her and her life all in the fabric of your jeans – very cool
Your poem brought to life the price for our jeans..yet, we all like wearing them. My jeans are still made in the US.
The proverbial blood, sweat, and tears that get into our jeans long before we ever do. It made me think, something I rarely do when it comes to the labor of our clothing.
We never truly understand how others live since we can’t experience it. We can only imagine, and that’s sad enough. Well done, Bjorn. — Suzanne
Great confession which we all must join. We buy products at the cost of others sweat and often tears. You wrote something powerful here. So well done.
Ah.. the jeans.. the expression of human genes so eloquently written in the hips of men and women.. and then there are the crotches and stitches of what is left unsaid but certainly spoken.. in flow of river and mountainous terrain..:)
And by the way, thanks.. my goal is to comment on 30 or so more poems.. in the next hour or so.. and this one wake me UP!..;)
What an interesting, complex mix of sexuality and sweat shop.
Ah, this other side of joy to wear jeans…thanks for bringing it up all people who are behind, the workers being exposed to not always healthy economical conditions….~ liked this creative poem!