Long Shoe store Poems
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Beware the pieces of the puzzles of your life.
Treasure them early; appreciate them for life.
She was the sight of my first job opportunity away from the farm.
She bridged the social gap between 'my boyhood and my manhood'.
He had a shoe store when I asked him for a job, and he said yes.
His name was Abe, and I have him to thank for many lessons learned.
She is the sight of the first motion picture show that I ever watched.
She is the sight of the cafe with the best tasting hamburgers I ever ate.
He took me under his wings and taught me how to interact with people.
He portrayed the meaning of service, entrepreneurism, and persistence.
Her name means, 'Deer River', and as a child, I knew her as Issaquena.
She was the sight of a barber shop whose owner was also a musician.
She was the life blood of activities of every kind as the people mingled.
Abe and Issaquena, two unforgettable names attached to my early years.
Abe, a giant of a man; one piece of the puzzle that assisted me early in life.
Issaquena, a hometown street and an inanimate piece of my life's puzzle.
100221PS
One could say that my early life's arena
was linked to a street called Issaqueena.
You see, it was on Issaqueena Street that I first
met Mr. May, and I will always treasure that day.
Meeting Mr. May really made my day because by
teaching me to sell, he released me from my shell.
I learned that I did not have to be Mr. May, but I did
need to listen and learn what he had to say.
Mr. May taught me that:
To sell a shoe,
There's more you have to do.
It's a shoe store;
nothing less; nothing more.
Sometimes, you stand on the sidewalk
and give a little smile and a little talk.
Be aggressive and don't be shy
if you want a customer to buy.
There is more to selling a shoe than show and tell.
You also have to really want to make the sale.
I rose up hard through the ranks,
Shining shineless shoes aglow.
Some just paid me with their thanks,
Some just a penny a toe!
On my long way to the top,
I shined tears from eye to eye.
Because sometimes shoes would stop,
Alas, most shoes just went by!
I sweat, I scrimped, and I slaved,
Put every penny away.
I knew every penny saved,
Would shine gold for me some day!
Had spit-polish dues to meet,
Singing the St. Louis Blues.
Saw more than a million feet,
And more than ten miles of shoes!
But every shoe that would stop,
Just one more penny to peck.
Till packs of pennies would drop,
And put gold around my neck!
All those precious pennies earned,
I fondly think on once more...
The golden rule's what I learned,
Now I own my own shoe store!
Been through the rocks and bottoms
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
Climbing Mount Nebo, marched in Medigeo
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
Tried to follow you Lord, but it's too hard
CAUSE MY SHOES DON'T FIT
When I was seven my mother took me to the shoe store
My feet where extra wide, this I tried to hide
All I needed was more cowhide
Extra width, shoes so tight that they just didn't, didn't fit
Hurts SO BAD
HELP ME LORD!!
Been through the rocks and bottoms
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
Climbing Mount Nebo, marched in Medigeo
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
Been through the valleys and they're low and my shoes don't fit
Walk through the muddy waters and the cold fridged snows
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
What must I do to behave
That I may be saved
Does it matter t hat my shoes don't fit
Yes they don't fit yes they won't fit
How can I walk on in heaven on those streets of gold
With hurting toes. . .
Been through the rocks and bottoms
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
Climbing Mount Nebo, marched in Medigeo
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
Tried to follow you Lord, but it's too hard
CAUSE MY SHOES DON'T FIT
This is making me sick I can hardly walk hardly talk cause my shoes don't fit
The devil all around me but I can barely believe he's walkin over me
I'm gonna stomp on him, I'm gonna march on him gonna tromp on him
Even tho my shoes don't fit walk on, walk on, march on and on and on
walk on
With hurting toes. . .
Been through the rocks and bottoms
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
Climbing Mount Nebo, marched in Medigeo
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
Making me sick I can't walk hardly talk cause my shoes don't fit
Devil still around can't believe he's walkin over me
Gonna stomp him, I'm gonna march on him gonna tromp on him
Even tho my shoes don't fit walk on, walk on, march on and on and on
walk on
With hurting toes. . .
Been through the rocks and bottoms
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
Climbing Mount Nebo, marched in Medigeo
AND MY SHOES DON'T FIT
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
June 14 2011
from Anthology " Revelations"
My shopping excursions to the local marts are very rare indeed.
My dear spouse does the shopping, I only go when in dire need.
I have no interest in fostering the foreign imbalance of trade,
Therefore, when I shop I want to buy things American made!
Why, nowadays one can tour the world and go on a shopping spree,
Without leaving the county or crossing the billowing sea!
Since most things come from The Czech Republic or Paraguay,
The Peoples Republic of China, Japan and even Uruguay!
I can live sans everything French, especially their cheese and wine.
California wines and Wisconsin cheeses suit me just fine!
I'm desperately trying to find a locally-owned shoe store,
Where I can buy American shoes, not those assembled in Ecuador!
Alas, my turkey for holiday repast is imported from Old Mexico.
I'd much prefer that it be bred and reared here in Colorado!
Can anyone tell me where I can buy American made attire?
Seems all the labels read, "Made in Laos, Thailand, Belize or Eire!"
The plethora of stuff continues to invade our sacred shores,
Inundating the shops and marts, overflowing their cash drawers.
Even the paper upon which I scribe was made in a place called Texas,
But I reckon I can brook that, since with them we have a tenuous nexus!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
CHAPTER 11
KEROUAC
JANELLE FALLS ASLEEP ON THE BEACH AND WAKES UP IN HER PAST
Am I back? Am I dreaming again?
I needed to stay for awhile and make peace with ... with something I was apart of but left unfinished. And of course, find Jack.
You always knew when you just missed Jack. The coffee shop just felt a little different, a little empty without his presence. Once a shoe store, it still had rows of shelving on the walls now crowded with mementos that patrons brought in and left. Mostly photos, but there was a broken police baton that had been pulled from the hands of an officer during a protest. That actually held a place of honor just opposite the door where you entered. The one place that held no shelves featured a large cork board pinned with notices and pamphlets with the usual coffee shop fare. Dance classes, objects for sale, art classes, and of course, poetry readings.
You could be sure Allan would be there. A permanent fixture tucked away in his favorite corner with a cold half finished cup of coffee in front of him all the while ranting to a small but captive audience that had gathered around his table. He acknowledged me with a wave. As if to say ...
"Hurry, I need your help over here"
Jack once told me Allan chose that corner because of the acoustics. You would have no choice but to listen to his "enlightened arguments" no matter where you sat in the room. Jack always brought a sense of "self "to Allan's words. Pulling them down to earth for a more personal perspective.
"From rich to raw" ........... Continued.
For BigFoot I searched everywhere.
In all the Northwest, he’s not there!
Then I thought I might know
where a BigFoot might go . . .
so I went where the barbers cut hair!
To fit in and be like the rest
of us humans, he’d look his best.
so I went to each shop
where I thought he might stop
to have hair removed from his chest.
To Hollywood soon I was led.
I’d heard of a man with a head
like a wolf’s, full of hair,
making everyone stare.
What I found was Hugh Jackman instead!
Then a man I could not see too well
crossed my path at a fancy hotel.
When I got a good look,
that was all that it took!
It was furry but small, Steve Carell!
The last guy I saw in that land
of Hollywood stars acted grand.
That guy, very hairy
made Big Foot less scary.
He went by the name Russell Brand.
From Hasselhoff to Bradley Cooper,
some hairy guys are super duper!
I kept at my quest
when to the southwest
I moved, for I’m always a trooper.
I searched high and low, five years more,
but by then, I had grown very poor.
I had always liked shoes,
so thought I would choose
a job in a classy shoe store.
Like Carrie in “Sex in the City,”
I loved my work, and I looked pretty
with swank heels on my feet,
yet I felt incomplete
There was no Mr. Big! Such a pity!
But while working one day without care.
I looked up Can you guess who was there?
This odd creature so tall
made Shaquille look too small.
And he hardly could hide all his hair!
No fresh smelling flower was he,
but kindly I sensed him to be.
As I stooped down to put
my hand on that Big Foot,
I knew fate had led him to me!
Written by Andrea Dietrich
I'm taking a leap with my both feet
Without no shoe's to spare my soul's
And if I land on unkempt ground
I am bound to find I am barely able
to walk let alone manage baby steps
or stand erect
But this i knew before I and yet still
I did
Due to the fact way deep down obviously
i was terminally unfulfilled
In what and who I had become
Until one day I eventually realized I hadn't
woken up and seen the sun blinding in
quite a long while
So dank and bleak I thought the sun
had just lost it's shine and because of my
current disposition
I had simply failed to pay attention let
alone care to notice
The streets where totally abandoned there
was no signs of life all buildings and home's
we're boarded up
Apart from the shoe store stacked to
the rafters with all kinds of different
Boot's
In a multitude of sizes and range of
plush leather from the crocodile of
the Nile cobra snake to the buffalo
rodeo cow
Problem is though I landed on my feet
the street below me hadn't been swept
in a long while
And it was full of discarded shattered
shard's of broken bottle glass
Which are now firmly imbedded into
the soul's of my feet
So walking now is out of the question and
if I try to crawl
I will only end up with glass not only in
my hands but also in my feet as well
So here I still having pondered this
conundrum for quite a while
No further along nor closer to where
I need to be although in my mind's eye
I can the light through see
And do I now regret and wish I had
not leapt well maybe yes
But come to think of it it's in actual
fact both pointless and irrelevant
Because cold hard reality is it isn't
going to help or about to change
What's done is done like it or not
the sun isn't and never will be dark
What it means in actuality effect is this
The fire and light in your eyes has gone
out
Whether or not you can relight it or get
it back is solely up to you
And whether or not or how much fight
you have left possessed in you or you
want it to