Best Feet Poems
Once I'm gone
I'll only be remembered a small while
I'm a tiny tick on a large dial
The words I breathe will stretch about a mile
Even those who are in history books
the Kings writers and famous cooks
The gorgeous people with talent and looks
They too in the end fade away
Don't get me wrong it's all okay
We might try to hold on but none of us can stay
All have a bit part
on this watery ball of granite and clay
Some are calm others make waves
One smooth skinned another shaves
She loves him while he's attracted to Dave
They both pretend because they have to behave
Each in their own prison living like a slave
The preacher too plays his part
trying to find people to save
Some couples love from the start till death
She breathes in he exhales her breath
Their children thrive Bobby and Beth
While some mothers go it alone
Daddies leave and are never known
Children left to learn life from a smart phone
Some chase riches when other just want to eat
Walking on pretty shoes while poor men have cracked feet
The music plays so clearly yet we fail to hear the beat
So I wonder what's it all for
This wanting more and more
Is that really God knocking at our door
Yes it is I believe it at my core
So why do we leave it closed
Maybe because we fear our sins will be exposed
a life manicured and posed
could be unfroze
Freedom from each prison chose
Instead why not drink from the garden hose
Wear our humanity
discard these labeled clothes
Count down the future with fingers and toes
Within a momentary breath each spirit goes
As minds open each heart then grows
What happens next only God knows!
ALIEN -NOT- HUMAN
Alien life form--- ---Far from human toucH
Living among it self--- ---In the heavens like a gurU
Intelligence kept from civilization--- ---Scientist call it a phantoM
Earth remains alone--- ---Like a secret ninjA
NASA's top secret--- ---You are not humanN
BY: . BY:
That tiny pause to skirt the truth, half-reals you'd paraphrase,
The subtle softly spinning gyre of cunning in your gaze,
Vague reflections from your skin - a shedding, sheltering plaque,
All concerned syllables sent swiftly bouncing off your back.
Ever adrift on fiction's lost sea, never blown to shore,
Too late I saw your hidden thirst - too easy to ignore
Evasion and avoidance - thus was piloted your ship,
You'd dance around, not run aground - you gave us both the slip.
I failed your buried, rooted pain, I missed the reddened tracks,
All facts would step aside your rime of displaced parallax,
I slighted each secluded wound, the false-trod thoroughfare,
So ends a life of wary silence, cloaked mutely in despair.
No one knew you as I did, my reward there sadly sure,
I'd like to think away now, yet the hard truths are too pure,
Blinded, perhaps, by my own fear, I let out line for years,
And all my stock of forward time now fills with bloody tears.
Upon my closing sight of you, muzzled words within your eyes,
Your final hour released you not - you'd walked too long on lies.
This women in my home argues why I leave her so-much along.
Together she say, the two of us should make the weakest link in
the chain strong (relationship). "but she's all along". The bird's
chirping as the sun awaken and stretch forth its arm as another day
creeps through the curtains and not one word is spoken. "This stran-
ger in my home". Whoe, I guest - I-guest silent is the proper thing
to do, don't say nothing to me, and I want say nothing to you.
But I break's the ice and reach for her hand, she stubborni-
ily pull-away and storms out of the room, I'm confuse and now I'm
angry, "You men's just don't understand", is the response she say's
to me, cann't talk to this stranger in my home, "but she's all along".
I head-out the door for work, not to be such a jerk. I leave her a
note to meet me after work. at a nice cozy lil restaurant secluded so
we can talk. I arrive there first, then she walk's in looking so sexxy,
my whole head spins, (she's) looking this good can not be a sin.
We rap and we talk, this stranger (my wife) were once there were
danger of never seeing her again-now after a few drinks and the pro-
blem becomes vaguily clear, we toast to communicating, and sometimes
two people will not alway's agree on the same thing. Touching each
other's hands-looking into her eye's, she's wearing a very provocative
dress that clearily has awaken this man. Talking is refreshing and I tell
her, your perfume smells aahhh soooo--sweet, now at home we stop and
began Kissing, and together we floats-on to heaven. "With Wing's be-
neath my feet's".
People are struggling to live
Farms with green grass roof
An old-fashioned mower
The daylight set the time
Milk bucket on ramps
Potatoes and fish four days a week
Maybe you're thinking :
Charming and maybe a little rusty
But : I remember the simplicity
Longing and nostalgia
My happy childhood
As a balm for the soul
A place I danced barefoot
The old memories make me both sad,
humble and happy
So strange ...
it feels like yesterday
Days that collect dust
But before we know it
it's old memories
I feel privileged
and enjoy the taste of a bygone era
By following the tracks back
On the narrow gravel road
Today another era ~ the circle is closed
22.04.2018
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Glass and fractured imaginings are trite
Upon his blameless feet
Even as he dance and play about them
Toxic and perilous smoke are authority
Outside his naive lungs
While he freely breathes to ensure laughter
Blood sprinkles and routine metal shards
Within his innocent hands
Presently, as he claps to the street’s tune
Mordant activities be forever present
Before his youthful eyes
Just before the gleams therein make hearts sway
Remarkable is…
Miraculous is…
Wondrous is…
The resilience and spirit of youth
POTD
Race with the wind, step up higher
Higher than blues of a sky;
Through an airspeed, mile-long flight
Chase a smooth or rugged pace,
Wings on feet, be the desire.
On to tracks as the nights inspire
Burn, burn man, whip a dream;
Heels kicking dust of life's byway
Chase a smooth or rugged pace,
Wings on feet, be the desire.
And spike that run like a lit fire
Gotta reach the stars’ motion;
Burn man, gears are in control
Chase a smooth or rugged pace,
Wings on feet, be the desire.
6/3/2015
Lyric Man's Sing Me..A Jingle
by nette onclaud
------
The mythological associations
for the brand Nike Shoes are flight,
victory, and speed.
Nike is the Winged Goddess of Victory.
I push my feet blissfully
into smooth sun-kissed grains of sand.
Taking my feet abruptly from their fun,
down to the shore I run.
Warm briny sea caresses them;
they splash like happy children.
ice-shrouded tree limbs
tilt perilously groundward
sparrows have cold feet
THIRD PLACE WINNER
written November 15, 2022
syllables checked by PS
for "Winter Haiku Poetry Contest"
sponsored by Tania Kitchin
#20 on Best 100 New Poems List
Poetry Soup
February 1, 2022
Iamb, Trochee, Spondee, Pyrrhic. Do those words have meaning for you? If not, you may find it handy as a poet to learn how to employ at least a few of them. They are names for the most common of the two-syllable feet used in classic poetry forms and many rhymed forms of today (there are other metrical feet used for 3 syllables). Poets can practice to become skilled at any one of them, but often poets are drawn to just a few when they write naturally. Iamb is the one that I prefer. When your words rise and fall in an unstressed to stressed rhythmic pattern, you are using iambic meter. Five feet of these unstressed-stressed syllables is called pentameter. That is why a sonnet is written in Iambic Pentameter. The traditonal sonnet writer uses ten syllables which are divided into five feet of unstressed/stressed syllables.
Here is the way Iamb looks if I show just two-syllable examples: de/TEST, un/LOVED, a/ WORD, go/ HOME. It would sound unnatural to say DEtest, UNloved, A word or GO home. The poet chooses his metrical foot and simply goes with the flow! If I choose to write a triolet, I would use Iambic Tetrameter (8 syllables with 4 feet of Iamb). When you consider all the different combinations of feet and meter, there is much to be learned! You can even mix up types of meter or use them unrhymed! To some poets it comes naturally -no textbook required. I have known free verse poets to say, "I just don't 'hear' it." But a few of those poets practiced and practiced; with time I saw them grow!
For those who want to practice poetry
in such a way to make their poems sing,
Iambic meter is one way to go.
Unstressed, then stressed creates a pleasant flow.
So give your words some musicality.
Keep practicing, and then your skills will grow.
Aug. 5, 2018
Millions of feet dancing..
Like raindrops on my hand
On a emerald green stage
for contest Insect on a leaf
At the feet of the Master there sat a disciple,
Looking straight to the eyes, learning the truth what lies;
Oh! The word from the Master where none can give,
The wisdom that discern, with the truth to live;
A teacher is he that show the right path for you and me.
At the feet of his Master for more than an hour,
He think of himself as a treasure hunter;
For the knowledge he gain is beyond the price what he retained,
The gold are worthless, for what he have is the best;
The understanding he acquire, is wonderful beyond his desire.
He extoled, “There’s no one to compare,
Beyond our understanding you are there;
For what we are capable, teacher you are able.
As a candle which shines its light, you shared us the deepest insight;
Who would have known your struggle, yet, you gave your time and always available,
Teacher you are incredible”.
so lovely , yet wearied and worried,
as she looks away with quiet terror
from the sight of the faintest wrinkles
at the corners of her eyes in the mirror;
he finds it silly, this undue anxiety,
as she mumbles about crow's feet
that on her face she dreads to see,
reflection she is uneager to meet;
he assures her they are but laugh lines,
the true traces of real joys, happy times,
just skin-deep hints of deep-seated bliss,
amused, touched she is by this view of his.
What My Day Was Like And Why My Feet Are Sore
I walk with lead bricks tied to my feet,
down this trail into oblivion.
gasping at the light, the beams
spinning and from thin air
a melody, not the kind you think
more of a stomping the gourd
and drinking myself under
two crowns and my head spins off
whistling Dixie and promising to live
a hermit in a cave
eating stardust and baying at the moon
watching stars twinkle and speak in riddles
this old soul arguing back
and swearing to never ever lie
no sin tomorrow
but today any damn thing goes
to the hell hounds
trailing a dragon that seeks the princess
never found, but her slippers ruby red
she that watches me sleep
breaks my alarm and leaves me
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
as sunset draws near its opens
spitting out charms
into my willing hands
truth sees me and winks
saying Rob what shall you do tomorrow
I reply, shut up
these sandwiches tastes like bugs
his reply, yes son that is
my super-duper extra special sauce, roasted bugs
for breakfast Monday you get worms
I grimace and shout, Lord save me
my good friends are hideous.
Robert J. Lindley
Rhyme, Jan. 17TH 1979
Note- Weekend fifth made it until 10 pm Saturday night.
It's taken me sixty years
Of evolution
To realise the simplicity
Of Earthen electricity
My naked feet, like freshly cleaned
Battery terminals
Strolling in hilarity
To observe correct polarity
Electrons flowing in and out
As I freely shuffle about
In hippyfied insanity
With toes embracing nudity
The science is effusive
So wonderfully conclusive
My body craves perfection
In each pedantry inflection
So to join the sockless roamers
The grass lovers and beach combers
I will earth myself completely
With each step I place, so neatly
Is it magic or just factual?
Like a nature deal, contractual
Or perhaps we were never meant
To be disconnected, discontent
And maybe it's progression
To dismiss the shoe of intercession
Returning to natural citizenship
Of barefoot - grass relationship
Reject the concrete,
Resist the vulcanised persistence
Embrace the beauty
Of a soul-full existence