Best Footfalls Poems
My gray head turns aghast,
broken glass, broken glass,
two by fours, without their walls.
Floors lifted by years of rain,
walls hanging on in vain,
nothing is as I recall.
The trees encroach, strangle hold.
The mice nest, keep out cold.
Green makes a moldy pall.
When young I played here.
The rooms were full of cheer
now mice and bugs, creep and crawl.
My playhouse, stone, still stands.
Dad built it with his hands.
Can you see my childish scrawl?
Through the bramble bush I leave
memories to relieve.
Can you hear my soft footfall?
Balassi Stanza
Bony knuckles raking gloomy halls
Chambers echoing fate’s footfalls
Slumping shoulders and deathly grins
Recounting on fingers, countless sins
Shuddering, shivering in godless fears
Admonishing my guilt, the end, it nears
Cowering in silence, holding my breath
Smelling foul odors of impending death
Grasping and groveling a final chance
Embracing, mating, in fatal romance
Facing my fears in a sorrowful stare
Fingertips gracing my tendrils of hair
Ghastly screams erupt pouting lip
Into the darkness my soul does slip
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Winter’s bite clings to the air,
each footfall breaking the thin ice of morning.
My breath unravels in ragged ghosts,
disappearing into the gray dawn.
Spring arrives—moist ground, and
mud splattering on my calves.
The ache in my lungs is suddenly green,
filled with pollen and carefree birdsong.
Summer sears the asphalt,
melting the soles of my shoes.
Rivers of sweat run down my spine.
I spring through the fevered world,
chasing the horizon and blue sky.
Autumn arrives quietly;
leaves are brittle underfoot.
The wind tugs at my clothes
like a lover who knows I’m leaving.
I slow down, not because I'm tired
but because the light is disappearing.
Even the longest roads
must turn homeward.
If you enjoyed this poem, you may want to read its memoir vignette companion, Season to Season, posted here on Poetry Soup: poetrysoup.com/short_stories/season_to_season_13582
… On The Gist of Where A Gather Melts Hate’s Glacier
On The Nexus of Need & Knowing True Love’s Nature
On The Passage of Innocence To Please Forgive Us Prayers
On The Way To Meet Wide Open Arms of Our Maker
On Edge of Evening and Eden’s Promised Favors …
stretched The Trail of Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
There Lay A Storm-Tossed Loch Between The Rifts
A Charcoal Sky That Seemed Heavy & Propped By Stilts
She Was At The Limits of Her ‘All That She Could Do Lists’
She Was On The Verge of Vanishing Into Vanity’s Myths
While Searching Between Urgency and An Internal Eclipse
… ventured the Interim of Soft Footfalls Towards Forever
She Took One Last Stiff ‘Uisge Beatha’ Spirit-Sip To Lips
She Heard The Last, Lone Note of A Bagpipe’s-Signal, Lilt
Envisioned The Strong Stance & Clan Colors of His Kilt
and The Rich-Hued-Tow Head, Which Shone Like Gilt …
as He Strode The Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
(Her Eyes Closed But Her Course Kept At Canter)
Eyes Closed … Tho’ That’s Not Why It Had Gone Black
She Can Nay See How To Finish Thru To Their Trek-Pact
She Must Rest On A Narrow, Not-Well-Beaten Path
Will He Cover The Distance From What Her Last Legs Lack?
… Even If She Has Stopped & Dropped Dead In Her Tracks
Will He Come To Find and Bring Her Unfalteringly Back? …
from Earth-Packed, Soft Footfalls Towards Forever?
Her Eyes Closed, But True Love’s In-Sight, Closes Never
He Found Her, Eyes Closed … Swollen, Squeezed Into Slits
He Saw The Puffed Flesh Where The Poison Had Been Spit
He Saw Her and Traced The Tears She’d Held Back Then Spilt
Saw Her Lovely Face Framed By Curly Dark-Red, Wet-Wisps
& Finger-Nail Marks Where Her Hands Clenched Into Wee Fists …
Formed & Fashioned Her Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
(His Bonny Lass, Woven In His Tartan & Tam’s Token Feather)
He Saw The Emerald Heirloom Wrapped Around Her Wrists
But He’d Not See In This World, Her Twin Sparkles, Again A–Glist’
His Own Eyes Became Mirrors of A Flooded Dam That Split
He Took On The Burden That She Had Endured This Tryst
Yet He Could Not Bear The Thought of Her Feeling A–Jilt
As He Carried Her Where Clouds Covered Them Like Quilts
Each Sorrowed Step & Stone & Step Spanned Breach & Breath & Built …
the Bridge That Balances & Blankets: Footfalls Towards Forever …
(to be continued on Part 3 of 3)
Written & ©: 1/ 3-6 /2013
by: MoonBee Canady
The footfalls of Fate
pursue love and hate
through the echoes of silence.
And leave surreal
footprints hearts can feel
from kindness to violence.
Fate creeps up on you
and nothing you do
can alter its progression.
Fate leads, you follow:
it chews, you swallow,
even dregs of depression.
Each muted miscall
or misplaced footfall,
blazes trails dreamers pursue.
Fate forges a path
through glory and wrath:
leaving each choice up to you.
You must face Fate blind;
whether harsh or kind,
lavish or ugly and stark.
Fate is seldom fair,
shapeshifting out there:
like a shadow in the dark.
Fate's Footfalls
'Crimson Tides of the Underverse'
Ladders we climb, greasing the grime, in mountains of malignant moral
Committing our crime, with rhythm and rhyme, impending the immoral
Foreshadowing fates, we open the gates, arming the quantizing quarrel
Creation creates, sad sorrow awaits, within the ambient Adonic auroral
Beyond the tides, where love divides, the moonlit metaphorical shores
Decision decides, our confusion confides, the embryonal egg explores
The minstrels play, behind the floral bouquet, the pandemonium pours
Trampled by truth, egotistical youth, the wordsmith weathers the wars
Silent screams, within decompositional dreams, a dramaturgical destiny
Truth or dare, we all shall bear, the crippling crosses of effusive entropy
Eyes that bleed, now take heed, for who is your friend or emulous enemy
Fissiparous fate, a harbinger of hate, providing a pandemic penal penalty.
March.06.2018
FATE'S FOOTFALLS
Sponsored by: John lawless
... For Theirs Was A Loyal Love That Would Nay Suffer Guilt
Nor Wander, Nary Wrangle, Nor Waste, Nor Wrong, Nor Wilt
Whether Slow In Coming, Or of A Moment Passing Swift
Not Even An Enemy’s Blade Plunged In His Side To Its Hilt ! …
could Halt His Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
Even In Whispered Woe & Weeping That Winds Would Nay Lift
Or Thru A Last Dance, Last Duty, Lost Dreams, Or Long-Ago-Drift
Even In All The Combined Separation Or An All Alone-Shift
Even Thru Gut-Struck-Grief Or The Unknown – Aye, Even If …
Out of Cold Shadows’ Desperation … Over A Highland Crag-Cliff
… slips The Soft Footfalls Towards Forever
Out of Cold Shadows On A Highland Moor
Will You Come Walking To Me As Hard Rains Pour?
Beneath A Tree of Life I Stood and Swore
To Bring You My Body & Every Beauty, It Bore
To Reach You Before Even Death’s Read Banns Door …
and Right Before, Our Soft Footfalls Towards Forever …
… Out of Cold Shadows, On A Highland Moor
Will You Wake For Me, When The Full Moon Soars?
Beneath A Tree of Life, I Stood and I Swore
To Bring You Back, Body ‘N Breath & The Beauty It Bore
Whether To Walk On Water Or Just Footprints On A Shore
in Soft, Footfalls Towards Forever To Explore …
yea, In Soft Footfalls Towards Forever … Still Furthermore …
(Isaiah 50: 4, 5 / Song of Solomon / John 11: 23 – 27 /
Genesis 3: 4, 13 – 15, 24 / Revelation 21: 3, 4)
Story Poem Written & ©: 1/ 3-6 /2013
by: MoonBee Canady
Echoes of past
Sounds that had been
Touches once in lust
Now nothing
Ah, you are not dead in a sense
Your eyes had read these very prints
Much of my eyes I got from your genes
Many see in it your glint
Once glimmer of gold
As she would say
Now of bronze a little old
The iris in dismay
I go through in delight
What you had once read
Feels how were your day and night
What you loved green or red
Your handwritten notes in margin
Those acute angled alphabets
Is the evidence of my beginning
Burnt holes on some pages, of my cigarettes
And that too your brand
The brown rings of capstan
Under the feet loose sand
Your warmth in my hand
I too love to underline
As I read my favourite books
Copious notes of mine
Almost identical looks
I do feel the soft leaf
Of your palm on my cheek
A cloud of brief grief
In the dark, something do I seek?
The dictionary you used
I love to consult very often
The smokes you abused
A feature common
The way I read and write
I feel I arose from you
You loved to fill the pages white
On which now falls my dew
I wish I could retain
The values you entertained
But your fountain pen has to remain
Empty, no ink, the market complains
If I refuse to drink whisky
In a party, sometimes,
Many a friend laughs at me
They would say, take juice of lime
Photographic films are not sold
The shop keepers look on and smile
As if a customer two generation old
The contax camera lies idle
We move on with our times
Stream eats into old banks
We change our rhymes and crimes
To the changing river, thanks
We caress it, hold to our chest
Smell and look through too
Bring out your poses in rest
Again inside eyes the dew
This way we continue
The before toward the after
Your things are my moments with you
Nothing in a sense is closed chapter
__________________________________________________________________________________________
4/11/2016 For the Poetry Contest:.
Old Jewelry or Just Old Things or Old, Old Poems - Sponsored by Broken Wings
footfalls silently all my life had followed me till I turned a corner. . .
I hear them no more . . . for they are at my door
2018/ for Silent One's When One Line Is Not Enough Poetry Contest
Revised to new form, which is partially rhymed.
F or years as a child he had dark, fitful dreams
O f narrow, closed passages, places unseen
O ften he mused, they were unfounded fears
T ormented thoughts that would bring him to tears
F orboding terrors and feelings of dread
A puzzling scenario that loomed in his head
L ately the tide in his mind seemed to turn
L ooking ahead for adventure he yearned
S o one day he set out to explore a cavern.
O ld, unique crystals, grand formations he found
F ossils and rocks, pictographs underground.
F or awhile he was thrilled, quite engaged in his quest
A ll fear forgotten, then lamp died, he cried out in protest
T oo panicked to think, he ran, stumbled and fell
E nsuring his fate, plunged down a deep well...into cold hell.
Written on 3/8/2018
Pacing myself as slow as I possibly could,
I fell upon mounts trying to reach the top.
I thought I knew what my life would become,
when it was time to relax, I couldn’t stop.
I tried with stride of presuming my fate,
my footfalls became a struggle,
I almost gave up, thought I was too late,
as my future destiny I tried to create.
Could the outcome of my life really be
something I could wonder and guess?
Conjecturing and surmising what was coming,
I thought I knew my journey, I must confess.
Steps and cadences of the mark of a defect,
treads carrying carriages of heavy cages,
but it seems my will and fortuity can’t connect.
I live a simple life, yet my providence I neglect.
Footprints left upon the reverie’s shore,
was something I never looked behind to see
if I was becoming something I hated,
looking into the reflection right in front of me.
Karma ---- is it really something I believe in?
If I try harder, can I be a woman I respect?
All of my instincts have been powered by sin,
I must find the beauty of my fate held within.
I didn’t see this coming; knew not of the result,
consequences became my imminent futurity.
Approaching my death with the hereafter unknown,
eventual forthcoming devoid of maturity.
I saw not days ahead but longed for replies,
explanations of my tomorrow answers.
Maybe my fate rests right before my eyes,
and I just need to unveil my unwarranted disguise.
Fate's Footfalls
John Lawless
March 5, 2018
FATES FOOTFALLS
fate’s footfalls - the bull’s running.
i hear the sound of a stampede
at my ankles. the rush of blood
pulsing through my veins, hammering
my heart, quite like a silver spike
penetration of a vampiric scream.
(my bedclothes sweating. i turn)
darkness on a crisp Winter’s eve.
snow’s falling...i see their shape,
and then his eyes, like icy daggers.
i’m walking with increasing speed
but the sound of heavy steps following
… breathing on my neck. i fall
(like a cliff, i hang off my bed)
fooling fate, i wake up to a sunny day.
i wash the panic off my face. i run
all day long, never noticing footprints,
the same width, same length, the odor
of rotten eggs, and the black hood
that fades in and out. i rub my eyes
as death drops his ax…
(i know i won’t wake up)
3/11/2017
At tables scattered round the bar
they hug their drinks and wait,
to see whose empty chair is next,
who's visited by fate.
They listen for the footfalls
which for them will surely come
to take them on the last journey,
slow, maybe quick for some.
The widowed and the broken hearts,
divorced and cast adrift,
all qualify, their day draws near
with every glass they lift.
They treat each draught with reverence,
each day a hole to fill,
from footfalls try to run away,
they run, while sitting still.
The news comes through by word of mouth,
another comrade downed,
the footfalls wash out like the tide,
one more lies in the ground.
A brief respite, still sleepless nights
'till footfalls come again
when fate returns to reap harvests
of lonely single men.
No lessons learned, through khaki eyes
of hopelessness and pain
they sit and wait for footfalls
listen-
here they come again
For Chris, Jenko and Dave- rest in peace. Sadly, you will have company soon.
Contest ' Fate's footfalls', sponsor John Lawless
March 5th 2018
FATE'S FOOTFALLS
I'm on the thirty-five yard line
theball is in my hand
But I trip and fumble first down
I got a job now suddenly I'm fired
this must be my call
I'm then tackled it's...fates footfalls
I'm running for my life
Seems like I'm forever being chased
By life misfortune trying to reach the line of scrimmage
Recieving down yhe field of life to be the winner
Even a field goal would mean much
Running past defensive tackles
What's the matter life's trying stop my touchdowns
But I run on firm and strong
gonna past those gaols for a touch down
All this bring it on, I'm gonna make it through lifes game
Gonna win that Superbowl ring
And I won't be tackled by fates footfalls
03/7/18
For Contest: FATE'S FOOTFALLS
Sponsored by: JOHN LAWLESS
©2018
Clouds swirl about and
darkness descends
lying her head
amongst the lonely
Beats of the heart fade
and thoughts give way
to a pain stained night
Aimless footfalls wander
hollow halls and angry
floor boards squeak
in tongues of failures
never understood
Cold water splashes
ease the burden
temporarily but an
open window haunts