Long Feet first Poems
Long Feet first Poems. Below are the most popular long Feet first by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Feet first poems by poem length and keyword.
We have a chance each morning…before we walk out of our door
to be a better person…than we were the day before…
Right away we notice…when our feet first hit the floor
that we’re a little different than we were the day before.
Certainly we’re a little older…but there’s also something more…
more than just our age that makes us different than before.
Love and loss…victory and defeat…we never know what’s in store
Whatever happens…good or bad makes us a little different than before.
Each day brings with it new adventures…each moment we’re awake
and we hope we learn as much from our successes as we do from our mistakes.
But on we go…we forge ahead…out into the world we soar…
hoping today we are a little better than we were the day before.
Perhaps a little kinder, more compassionate, more accepting…and what’s more…
perhaps a little wiser than we were the day before.
If not…there is one consolation…tomorrow…when our feet first hit the floor
We’ll be given another chance to be a little better than we were the day before.
We have a chance each morning…
before we walk out our front door
to be a better person…
than we were the day before…
Right away we notice…
when our feet first hit the floor
that we are a little different
than we were the day before.
Certainly we’re one day older…
but there’s also something more…
more than just our age
that makes us different than before.
Love and loss…victory and defeat…
we never know what’s in store
whatever happened yesterday…good or bad
makes us a little different t
han we were the day before.
Each day brings with it new adventures…
each moment we’re awake
and we hope we learn as much from our successes
as we do from our mistakes.
But on we go…we forge ahead…
out into the world we soar…
hoping today we are a little better
than we were the day before.
Perhaps a little kinder, more compassionate,
more accepting…and what’s more…
perhaps a little wiser t
han we were the day before.
If not…there is one consolation…
tomorrow…
when our feet first hit the floor
we’ll be given another chance
to be a little better
than we were the day before.
She comes to bat with the score tied three to three.
Staring out at the pitcher,
she goes into her stance,
just hoping the ball will come over the sweet part of the plate.
Into her motion, the pitcher winds and fires.
Gathering all of her strength,
her eyes lock on the fast approaching yellow softball.
Like a gladiator ready to charge, she coils her body ready to strike.
Swinging with all her might, she connects
and the crowd goes wild as the ball sails
over the center fielder's head and to the fence.
With the crowd cheering,
she takes off like a young cheetah toward first.
A smile on her face and a gleam in her eye,
she looks up and catches the coaches signal to go to second.
Seeing the ball is still in the outfield
and the third base coach waving her on,
she rounds second and heads for third.
Fans fired up cheering,
mom and dad hold their breath and pray
as she rounds third for home.
Looking up and seeing a good relay throw to the catcher,
she throws on her brakes and reverses to third.
A bullet throw from catcher to third base
has her in a rundown.
Like a ping pong ball, they have her running back and forth,
but she’s not worried with her speed.
Then it happens,
the third baseman overthrows the catcher
and she is off for home.
Heart pounding and breathing hard,
knowing it will be close,
she dives feet first and slides into home base
under the tag to make a home run.
The crowd is roaring in the stands,
jumping up and down, hollering and clapping their hands.
Her team mates run out of the dugout and mob her with joy.
She’s made the winning run to break the tie.
By:5/23/2015
A true story of my nine year old granddaughter making the winning run.
Every stroke takes you farther away,
panic sets in,
your body, starts to tremble,
with fear,
every stroke takes you farther away,
to the deep end, away from safety,
the shallow end kind of safety,
the feet on ground,
kind of safety,
the, my family is all here,
kind of safety,
the I won't drown here,
kind of safety.
But, you know how to swim, right?
It's just that it's been a long time, right?
Since you dove in, feet first, then head first.
Why not try heart first, since,
it's not the brain that needs washing,
it's the heart, first. That's where love grows.
The waters of truth are cold, true,
but, they wake you up, they refresh,
the mind, body, and spirit.
They set you free from fear and panic.
So, don't hesitate, jump in, the waters fine,
stroke away with me in the deep end.
You'll be ok, really, I promise.
John Derek Hamilton November 4,2015
I usually spend my summer vacation outside, all day long,
Enjoying the flowers, the bushes, the trees, and the birds that I have planted and or fed.
I should be congratulating myself for cleaning out the garage,
But I am too worn out from the humidity to move. All I want is air conditioning, and the TV.
My school system does not have a mandatory retirement age.
Good thing, as I intend to go out at age 92, feet first, in a body bag.
This summer vacation junk is killing me.
It simply is not the kind of fun I am used to.
Not good enough for the likes of me.
Not likeable at all after the first
Two weeks, which means
I have six weeks of ugh.
When I was younger, I laughed when
I heard about the eighty-nine year old
Kindergarten teacher who got mad
And quit when they re-assigned her
To sixth grade. They had been trying
To get her to retire for twenty years.
She had taught kindergarten for
Sixty-seven years.
Now I get it.
Gone digital
begun/beginning
Networking with me-self
Can't find a full-stop
to stop
What yer looking at fish-face???
Yer know
since yesterday
I can't find me thumbs
falling feet first
in-ter sub-monkey skills
I need more,
more white widgets
and black toggles-
got the wobbles, a bit keyed-up
Mind knitting its own computer
flashes of clever clogs,
clumps of soft-drive
in me ear-holes
got no cookies cooking
just a blinking memory
Dot-dash-board doodling,
screening plasma for bugs
and sneezy-bits.
Me lights are ticking
think I'm thinking
Blimey, will you look at that!
I got a virtual nose to pick
feeling sick of it
even though
me lid is plastic
Beep...
Say it while you're here. Say it while you're here!
How high they build hospitals!
Towering, chemically distilled alters
that the dead worship away from.
Piling, corpses on corpses on
tumors, on hearses.
Coffins for sale! Coffins for sale!
How lovely they make the mortuary
bells toll! Resonant frequencies that
the living stumble into. Onto, around.
How deeply the gravediggers dig!
Shovel, on glass, on cement, on
brick. Crack! What a hideous sound!
How high the fragments soar! Look
at them go.
How low they go, for such low blows
Insurance cards, rip! Hospital beds. Tip!
There go the patients down the trash chute!
Head first, feet first… drained of blood.
How intelligent the thoughts of mad men be.
Label them! Banish them! Don't let them speak!
It's so easy to dismiss someone when they're
called derogatory things. How hypocrisy weighs
down the silver of their tongues!
How loud! How loud? Too loud.
How long you wait How long you smile
How long you are here doesn't matter to
any of them, any one. But it matters to me.
It matters to me dearly, my love.
Fool me once, shame on you;
fool me twice, shame on me.
Proverb
Let me tell you a story:
subjected to twenty-four
hours of snooze
the same old news
played on repeat
passed as if
mouth to ear
better yet the strange
the criminal caught
in the act
incomplete acrobat
trapezing through the ceiling
to stare squarely
into the eyes of the law
his gun in his pants
he can’t reach
he swings around like a caged bird
hoping to freefall
so he can make a run for it
the fake cop
says, “Get a load of this, boys!”
then he throws the youngster to the ground,
“Off with you! We were here first!”
and then, the fake cop
turns around and stares
into a real badge -
his eyes chest high
the cop’s eyes hanging over
his head, trapezing
until they wink,
“Take him away, boys!”
the rubies, sapphires and diamonds sparkle.
necklaces and bracelets, safe…
well, two bracelets clasp the wrists
of the outwitted twit
painfully so
alas his girlfriend will find another dupe
a younger one
who just might get the job done
this time he’ll land on two feet
with his gun in hand
smarter than his former self
he’ll send a note
incognito
from a private island
to a cocky jailbird
as him and his eye candy
clink together
their passionfruit mojitos
heads thrown back
in the throes
of laughter and lovemaking
4/23/2022
Form N - Narrative
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme: Funny
Number forty six - White House occupant re:
guarding President elect Joe Biden
Within mein hermitage
now dwells one euphoric troglodyte who wept
upon hearing unbelievable news,
(albeit at snail's pace schlepped
finally proclamation emancipation
gave reasonable rhyme yours truly to ejaculate
(not prematurely), subsequently I leapt
into the air, and kept
myself aloft completing
one after another sumersault and except
for minor nuisance of gravity
nevertheless landed feet first and crept
back into mine mancave adept
to survive alone in the wilderness.
Seventy four million popular votes
tallied across country,
gives ample reason to grind hips and bump,
(cuz the most votes
cast for any presidential candidate in history),
which Republican contender finally plopped
hook line and anchored
courtesy Taj Mahal replica sinker
into dustbin of history
good riddance electorate voted out
loutish oaf, which voters chose to dump
best mandated to cavort with zoot suited frump
on any given Wednesday available to hump
rotund barenaked lady merging
into humongous protoplasmic lump.
Caught red handed concerning
more'n where's the beef
stole 2016 election
under nose of Hillary Clinton
abused role, when tasked
as commander in chief
good ole Charlie Brown nemesis
caused nothing but grief,
hence yours truly quite elated
upon occasion when figurative new leaf
turned over and booted out
as more onerous than Baghdad thief.
Hit the ground running
with nary a second to waste
Joe Biden, Kamala Harris and company
proving their steely eyed mettle
after victory lap Democrats did taste
usher in COVID-19 game plan
bolstering pandemic defences
where prior administration sorely misplaced
priorities United States Lady Liberty
wantonly, undeservedly, subsequently
her reputation disgraced.
Hope springs eternal - ah tis amazing grace
yours truly suddenly brimming with optimism
able bodied diverse cabinet to erase
formerly inept sycophants with intentions base
running amok within White House
at long last competent candidate won the race
adieu Donald Trump, who
did disappearing act at Mar-A-Lago without a trace
sore loser teed off absent American
delivering his humiliating defeat coup de grâce.
When it is time to come out of lockdown.
Some will be looking for a showdown,
Others will only want the lowdown.
Some will not fit though their doors,
Others will need something to hold up their draws.
Some will come out widows,
Others will have only just sneaked back through windows.
Some will be looking for a joint,
Others will no longer see the point.
Some will be in search of tasty desserts,
Others will get their just desserts.
Some will be mad,
Others will be glad.
Some will have learned to walk,
Others will not want to talk.
Some will feel rich,
Others will think life is a ?
Some will look you up,
Others will remain stuck up.
Some will be kind,
Others out of their mind.
Some will be well read,
Others will be out of bread.
Some will have papered over the cracks,
Others will have not taken off their Mack's.
Some will be allergic to sunlight,
Others will have seen the light.
Some will have beaten the blues,
Others will have run out of clues.
Some will suffer from bed sores,
Others will be heading for distant shores.
Some will look to blame,
Others will have had enough of that game.
Some will come out cooks,
Others will only have their good looks.
Some will be putting out welcome mats,
Others will be still holding bats.
Some will bemoan the cost,
Others happy to see a frost.
Some will have learned to tie knots,
Others will come out in cots.
Some will play fair,
Others will have no hair.
Some will have learned their lesson,
Others will be heading to prison.
Some will get mail,
Others will be in need of bail.
Those coming out of lockdown will have quite a thirst,
If we don't see their feet first.
Those coming out of lockdown alive,
Without exception, will never forget those who supplied honey
to those trapped inside a hive.
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