Best Clogs Poems
Clogs
I always wore clogs with solid socks when a boy
bought a pair today, not made of wood and leather
but of some plastic stuff. I have tried them on
walked up and down in the living room into the yard
I do not think I will use them often.
They are a clumsy looking pair and had nothing to
offer but sore heels and the childhood is distant as ever
I put them in the outhouse a nice home for mice,
spiders and other mysterious things that lurk in there.
The clogs were made in Germany, and it surprises me
how the Germanic people can make products
then here in low paid Portugal.
I think the reason is that Portugal has too many
Overpaid bosses and never mind the Indians
Rhinos in a line eating hay often defecate simultaneously and with such a thud it writhes the snakes out of a hibernated slumber. But a single dotted line is neither a breadbasket overloaded and overweight nor is it a queue of paper planes. But zero plus zero on graphed out paper is often a sign of a fork in a skirt and high wellington boots. Signal to an elephant tower and get a wave back. Extremely high towering elephants snore in a two hour period and so intermittent friendliness is quite often a case. Getting stuck in vases is problematic for sheep. But putting cattle grids in zoos is often perceived as hazardous to five fingered sharks whose fins are only developed for smooth grounds. And in the dark of a tapestry park there is no space for a stain upon the ground or on a tree trunk. Trot trot trot is neither a trit trot trit nor is it a fir tree acting as a tuning fork. For to tune is to ting tong says the little fly whose eyes move rapidly across the many atoms in the air. Circulating causing charms cutting creating chins. And the chinking of the clank is the clacking of the clicking clock. Chimmichanger chime with a lime. But not a line dance. Posing and posturing. Hahaha force nine gale smiling in a teapot. Hahaha duck in a hood. Xxxxxx gesticulations Z Z Z Z Z
You simply cannot run in clogs;
they slip-slide and fly
yards from your destination;
searching for a landing pad.
Flying clogs,
other’s dodge
and wonder why you threw them
when you didn’t.
A flying clog’s
ulterior motive,
will make you very cross
and endanger friendships.
By Fatmir Terziu
In Poetry, within the range, but squeezed. Carving
them behind every jugular to the depths.
Song. Melody, hectic for both feet.
A condition to be heard at home.
Spoiled in the dictionary, without cease.
From the centuries of impressed and dowry. Incomparable dowry.
They bring you wisdom, wakes you up every day
in the rooms of loneliness of old age
The right thing, in the asylum to the death.
Carelessly to the rooftop of the celestial darkness
has a contract with you.
Beyond the light, feminine beauty,
remains in the eye beneath your feet.
Leeks like ice cream are fired. Intimacy with others,
deep-seated within the world mystery as evidence,
the mind and the hand of the forefathers.
Their only subject has the idea of everything they hold
will die (maybe tomorrow).
High footfall illumination. Early Love: Fruity,
reddish apple, selected,
Cleopatra, in most masquerades, dressed them like gold sandals,
in a time translated.
Ultimate persuasive dictionary registration
it is only conceived there. Unusual Birth Coalition.
Even love was born on them. It is believed,
despite all the evidence, thoughts,
daily life, everything,
for lovers in the name of the gods,
there was always noise, kiss, murmuring.
Who said life was going to be fair?
Come on, let’s make this circle square,
Poor as church mice, bolder than brass,
Circle right then show me the cash.
We'll keep it underneath your hat,
But there’s no room to swing a cat,
They say the best in life is free,
So square this circle left like me.
Fair and square like they always say,
Fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay,
Money is round to go around,
London Bridge, now we all fall down.
The rain outside is cats and dogs,
Grandma just popped her dancing clogs,
Look this gift horse, right in the mouth,
Forward, back, now let’s journey south.
The old clogs
Retreating
From outdoor
To be worn
Only
In a bathroom
Make a loud nouse
As though crying
At the shoes' revolution
Of the young generation
Sometimes a clumsy old man resembles
The old clogs
Grumbling loudly and helplessly
At the young generation
For any differences
In life style or ideology
Until it's time to pop my clogs,
shuffle off this mortal coil,
I'll ensure my life is fun-filled
not just daily drudgery and toil.
As all work and no play
would make me one dull boy,
listless, senseless, bored witless,
not my Mother's pride and joy.
And so, in closing, I'm compelled to say,
"Exercise free will,
don't wait, hesitate or trust to fate,
before you're over the hill."
Feel as tho' I'm going to the dogs
it's almost time to pop my clogs
kick the bucket chuck it in
call it a day take a spin
and shuffle off this mortal coil
be released from worldly troubles and toil
buy the farm and bite the dust
or cash in my chips if I must
when D-Day dawns (it's not that far)
a big bang send-off will be my last hurrah
but it's no joke
as should I croak
who will miss me
when I'm long-gone
for no matter where on earth I am
I don't fit in I don't belong
oh well easy come easy go
whether up in smoke or down below