Best Shoe Lace Poems
Kindergarten Teacher
Kind when she shares her bologna sandwich.
Imaginative when she has to use Q-tips to teach.
Nurturing to teeter totter injuries.
Daring when rescuing an mystery object from the toilet.
Earnest when explaining this adventure to her principal.
Responsible for helping 23 children put on 23 coats and getting all 23
to the bus on time.
Gentle when covering boo-boos with impossible to open bandaids.
Aimiable when greeting parents.
Resourceful when finding uses for 75 popsicle sticks.
Tactful when explaining Timothy's new permanent marker freckles to
his mother.
Energetic when chasing a dog off the playground.
Nose blowing expert.
Talented when using a pipe cleaner to replace a lost shoe lace.
Elated with a new set of blocks.
Afraid of itchy heads.
Capable of jumping rope in heels on the playground.
High spirited when there is a snow day.
Excited about caterpillars.
Ready for nap time!
Miss Polly wanted a lolly that was thick, thick, thick,
So she begged the doctor to prescribe one quick.
Doctor gave her his candy stick, stick, stick,
And said “Please don’t bite, you must lick, lick, lick
She knelt in a skimpy little frock, frock, frock,
And licked Doc’s candy which was hard as a rock,,
Till it almost blew her brain out like a 45 Glock, glock, glock
She stared at his candy with horror on her face ,face, face
And said, “I like the candy, but not a limp liquorice shoe lace, lace, lace...
**Is it a bit OTT?**
As he fed the pigeons
I couldn’t help but wonder
what he did at other times
of the day.
In my young mind
he couldn’t be rich
or why would he
be wasting time on a bench?
His shoes, well scuffed,
but not “disgraceful”
as the nuns used to say,
gave a “been somewhere” impression
While tying his right shoe lace,
his rising eye caught mine.
He raised his hand with the brown bag of food
as though to say “feed the birds with me”
and smiled the grin of the wise.
I’d wished to avoid his eyes;
hadn’t enough time to greet that face.
I was on my way to another place.
No time to greet that face
open….
face of time and peace
simple….
mug of contentment lacking in guile.
Wish….
I’d stayed and returned his smile.
© Kathryn McL. Collins
Once there was me in an old blue shirt,
He noticed me when I got so much dirt.
I was imperfectly looking great in my own grace,
You are so perfect enough to stain my timid place.
I’m flawlessly high and you’re so not
Are you insecure because you’re a rugged knot?
I'm seeing your face with your troop of skanks,
You throw hard rocks on me when I'm at your back.
Faking your smile is little bit horrendous,
Making you novel is incredibly tremendous.
I'm deliberately well and you're trying it hard,
You're just insecure because you can never be a bard.
Hit the ground when you saw my imperfection,
You missed respect and want a strong insurrection.
I’m not stooping down into your shallowness,
Playing your foolish games is not my happiness.
How can an evil look so angelic when he’s in crowd?
He’s insecure you know because he can never be so loud.
It’s infamy when he says he’s everything,
I just know the score that he was only cheating.
You portray a gruesome look on your face,
I’m not frightened to hit it using with my white shoe lace,
Have you realized that we’re not on the same page?
Stop such insecurity because it will be your useless sage.
I was feeling this restlessness since past few days and it seemed, all the strings in my heart were tangled just like my shoe lace.
I couldn’t figure out how to get them apart. I guess, I think I was more occupied thinking about the smile, on her face.
What a phase. Lying on the bed or doing my own thing, the stills playing in my mind were like the words in her text trying to talk to me.
My heart was knocking on my mind’s door shouting it repeatedly that look saif love is around and it’s waiting for you to grab it, if not now then you can never have it.
She is beautiful, honest and childish in nature but most importantly she has a pure soul with love, flowing through her behaviour. I was having this feeling that I couldn’t describe it, it was sweet like a rhyme, but I knew it was only mine.
I was shying away in admitting that I have fallen for her in the first place but now I accept it with my heart and full faith.
How do I tell you, was the question on my mind, have not thought so much even in my bad times.
Making you laugh was becoming a day job,
Making you smile was becoming a habit,
I couldn’t stop it.
Didn’t want a day or two love, but a forever one
And I promise you, its gonna be way more fun.
But the actual plan is to make you say I do or kubool hai with the rise of the sun.
To be honest I was hopeless over the edge and I’m breathless I’d never thought that I catch this lovebug again.
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXVII
IF you pull a long poet's face
All things you write go awry
E'en fans who cuddle up offer no solace
Remember Kipling's " IF " the price to pay
If you pull a long deserted face
E'en friends plot with club members to assail
You lose will e'en to tie loose line shoe-lace
Damn could e'en petty sins cause such travail
If you go on pulling that long worsted face
Lines you lilt and rhyme sound airy-fairy
You push pen you powder verse till tears race
Creative college rhetoric plunder words weary
Yet if you pull this long-lined sick face
Grinding teeth biting lips till red ink spray
Ask who cut off Van Gogh's ear to spite his coal-mine face
Will a Gauguin mock a Brando's South-Seas belles-ballet
If you pull a long Art-for-Artifice sake face
Ask whose Kafkayesque trials plagued a Welles's Moro-Jacobean play
Holy-Wood chef-d'œuvres dictate classic post-modern pace
Kaleidoscopic formulae : rape batter murder on Tolstoyian vertebrae
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 31, 2019
If I were an ocean...
Would you sail upon me?
If I were a diamond...
My sparkle you'd see?
If I were a raindrop...
Would you wish me dry?
If I were a shoe lace...
My strings would you tie?
If I were a hummingbird...
Would you hum along?
If I were a melody....
Would you help write our song?
If I were true love in all of it's glory...
Would you share your torn heart,
could you tell of it's story?
For without you, I could, would not know...
My soul would be dark, and empty, so cold.
So when the dew falls, early morn', with
the sun rise...
You will recognize your soul, when you
see through my eyes.
If Iove was our ocean...
I'd ebb and you'd tide.
Perfect waves forming...
Rushing under blue skies.
Allow me to count this day
Already been paid
Covered christened and laid
Presented on a tray
Delicatessen sweet taste promenade
Beach side staircase
Grazed with escalades
Why trade
When it is finally
Right for me
Been popping bottles of Cristal bubbly sensibly
Fizzled fences draped curtains gold trimmed TV
Imaginary
Why not see beyond galaxies
Tragedies all I haven known
As a child now that I am grown
Will never beg buy gracefully own
Part of the legacy kingdom rightly centered throne
Alone
Will never be surrounded by an army
Gideon fought a battle with less than I did
Why kid
You thought I was going to bag down
Shhh backup came and knocked the fleet to the ground
No sound
No air no pressure
A length a time to you is given centimeter pressure
Why weather
A storm I do not have to chase
Words render skill yours tied with a shoe lace
Why take a fool for his gold
Fell too many of times listen while this story is told
News casted broadcasted all over the world
Smell like you ate haters leftover girl
Why whirlwind when truth is in my vein
My name has never been the same
But changed
To fit my situation
Am I mad because of the hating
Skating
All over the grounds
Just because I look young wisdom landed some how
Wow did that
Faced that time and time again
Just as they thought I fell Holified still got up again
Round 1 then 2 maybe three times it took
Guess I'll add another hater and even sign another book
A weapon based affiliation is neither a cat cavern or a divided field. Marshals could be described as marshmallows as they are often rounded mush balls. Often a cape is found staring at a calender in a midday glaze. But guidance from sandstorms glow in minds. Entering like breadsticks. Forcibly correcting wrongs in specifies locations globally. Wisdom is not held in a button or a shoe lace. And lacrosse is an extremely busy explosive experiment when attempted by nine foot rabbits. How wonderful it is to sit by a plumage which is radiating. Undirected individual skylights of assorted colours and hue. Adjusting with the many lights. Across all regions but where to put a sparrow is the question for a branch. Perched placed pecking. And one must always admire the flowing of elephant steps. How quite quickly they assemble and move. Latter day layers then. No hahahaha actually for the fractions of house us segmented. Jalapeño halogen bulbs. Xxxx terminology xxxx tripods. *** gravitational gravitation xxxx
Remember how you felt
When your shoe lace broke
As you dressed for school
And you didn't have another
That would have been a good time to
Taste the jam on your bread.
Or the time you bent over and ripped
Your pants not having a jacket or sweater
To hide the cold air from coming in
On your way to work.
That would have been a good time
To taste the jam on your bread.
So just miss one loop hole
And tie it in a knot.
Walk straight and smile
Then call home....
And take a moment
To taste the jam on your bread
And laugh....
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE: 42
If you pull a long-bored acrimonious face
Looking hardly at anyone passing your way
Your sunken cheeks spiting your own face
But those bitter bitten lips will give you away
If you keep pulling that long forsaken-look face
Wondering why each face will not own mask betray
Slop around in slippers not deigning to tie shoe-lace
Know that « la caque sent toujours le hareng »* all day
If you then must keep pulling your long sagging face
To thwart all and everything not going your way
The noble Fa-Ling lines stop at the mouth without grace:
The « Flying Serpent enters the mouth", the Chinese say
If you still insist on pulling that long worsted face
Since no-one will miss you once you’re gone, you say
Just think how many have not even by « contumace"
Pulled a long lost face some weary dreary day
So if you're the kind to pull a put-up pleasant face
See no smile lurking in within the Sun’s awakening ray
Hear no Garden Warbler trill livening up the pace
Know then, Friend, you’re loose change in the cash tray
Note: * Literally, in French, means: "the herring barrel always stinks of herring », but figuratively, as in this instance, means:
« you can’t hide your origins ».
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, September 18, 2019
Happiness and gloom, interlinked.
When a smile decorates a face,
Other remains sad possessed.
I hate to say, it's like a knot of shoe lace.
At the moment of grateful joy for one,
May be for the other the poorest mode on
Feelings jovial shall be in the room of heart.
And other's will harsh emotional struggle.
You never know what comes next.
Are you fornuate?- stop the torture to self.
For none is destined to be a legend.
Though effortless minds won't get,
What might dynamic barbarians with raids set.
Truly said, Labour never goes in vain.
For patience may be the way,
Every stoppage is either sorrow or gay.
But you move on for destination's sake.
In this life cycle, be you the rider.
And will come an end to this someday.
Until then, live worry less and unafraid.
IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXIII
IF you pull a long-pained face
After tumbling down the Stairway
Do not the blame put on loose shoe-lace
The fault, pained-poet, may lie in gut-loose kidney
Now if you still pull that pained-look victim face
Watching others trip down whistling care-free gay
Turn back the pages and ill-fraught lines replace
With clippety-cloppy trained strides in horse-shoe gait
Yet if you insist on parading your long-pulled face
Draw not attention to the Maker of the Stairway
Nor sit on High Horse of thorough-bred DNA race
Most if not ALL will slip down the slippery Stairway
If you go on pulling that long-dethroned face
Know that ev'ry race-winner aloft long does not stay
Be it White Brown Black Yellow or of mixed-race
No use then claiming favoured-place with Potter of clay
So if you must pull that long Pale Face
Do it where you don't step on toes in any way
Sunscreen melotinine paves not way to pride of place
If you believe in One Maker why d'you to One Son pray
© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 23, 2019
If I feel guilty
Does that make you
Superior Mother
Am I just a bad bad boy
Who’s just to much of a bother!
I guess things haven’t changed much
Since you taught my father
All of your Sisters
Most of them
had that same sour face
I can understand
How children’s laughter
seemed so out of place
Were you afraid it might make your heart race?
If you had one
It didn’t occupy much space
No one at the school was qualified
or equipped to teach Grace
Smack smack
Another kid
For forgetting to tie his shoe lace
Those golden rules
Seemed more like lead
I can still remember that ear pull
It felt like it would come off my head
It was still sore when I went to bed
I guess I shoulda listened
To what you said.
Sorry for making you see red.
Now the school is closed
No more rules or uniform
Me I’m okay now
I wasn’t born to conform
To you I was unpredictable
Kinda like
a thunder storm
I didn’t fit any norm
Sometimes clay can be
Just a bit to hard to form.
GOD'S GRACE
Are you set up for disgrace?
Have you lost the courage to embrace?
Do you think you've exhausted God's grace?
Are you tired of dreaming of your desired place?
Today, endure the hardship of the race,
Halcyon will be the rest of your days.
You probably need to learn from your field's ace,
They often stop to fasten their shoe lace.
Impatient! You think you're slow in pace:
It's not too late in God's ways
Pain rules at night; God shows at dawn's face
Giving up? Think about souls your triumph will raise
It will make posterity trail your trace;
And give your foes something to chase.
Be hopeful; let your visage glow like sun rays
Then you will radiate glory, and wield the mace
Remember not to glory in man's praise
‘God’s grace’ should be your reply phrase