Long Sneakers Poems
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They say you can’t be in two places at the same time.
Like so many errors, that knowledge is based on fact and not experience.
I know this is true because I have been in many places at once.
The other day, for instance, I was lying on top of the stone wall of a small bridge that spanned a creek. It was along the Old Harrisburg Pike just outside Lancaster, Pa. As the warmth of the sun bathed my body I could feel sunbeams resting on my legs from the bottom of my cut off jeans to the top of my black high-top sneakers. My spindly thirteen-year-old arms poked through what used to be a white t-shirt, now gray and tatty after being worn all summer; washed only from the creeks and rivers I visited. As I lay on the bridge, I knew I was also someplace else, running room to room in my grandmother’s big house knowing I could stop anywhere for a hug or to ride a knee, or feel a huge hand tousle my hair and call me ‘beautiful boy’.
As certain as I was that I was there on that bridge that day savoring the sunlight, I was also there savoring the love in that big house.
Now, I am here with you as you read this. The truth is, I am in all places where the human heart knows love as I have known it.
I can be in much more than two places at one time.
I can be in all places where there is warmth and love.
The tears I cry through recollections are not tears of loss, they are tears of recognition. I recognize now that I am present in all places of love. It is my home. These places are in me forever, they are in us all. we have but to look for them. So, those who say you cannot be in two places at once are wrong.
You can be in two places at the same time. You can be in all places at the same time. One day you will be. They are also wrong about something else. They say: “you can never go home again”, but, you can go home again.
Each day we are traveling a road that leads us home together.
it is the most beautiful journey we will ever take.
I woke up on a rooftop watching rain clouds mold
A seagull wearing sunglasses whispered secrets dipped in gold
A vending machine hummed softly saying life will sometimes fold
While a robot on a skateboard swore the future favors the bold
Old posters on the alley walls muttered nothing stays too old
And a wandering saxophone released the notes it had to hold
A suitcase full of riddles claimed its truths were never sold
And a neon painted turtle kept the city from turning cold
My shadow high fived strangers every gesture smoothly rolled
While a mime in glowing sneakers warned that rules were meant to scold
I grabbed a cup of lightning felt its shiver as I hold
And watched my drifting thoughts get interviewed and slowly polled
Blessings rained like glitter every spark precisely doled
As the skylines massive heartbeat struck each second that it tolled
I stepped into a sunrise shaped by stories I once bowled
And walked through shifting timelines where my voice never pigeon holed
I wrote it all down laughing as the universe just strolled
Then signed my name beneath it leaving a legend fully scrolled
The sun barbequed the skin, raising a tenderized pink glow
to the cheeks of the children in the ramshackle red barn.
The three story hay loft partly empty was bristling with tikes.
Pincushioned with straw, sharp as needles,
in their hair, tee-shirts and socks
an “itch-o-rama” of gross magnitude.
Hoarse screams of “Geronimo!”
propel a girl child out ward over the abyss;
letting go directly over the haystack on the first floor.
Barn boards groan under the weight of her flailing form.
Sweet, so sticky sweet, was the air with sweat, hayseed, and manure.
Red welts form on errant scratches rising up on the her skinny arms.
The boy plops from the thick dangling rope inches from her.
“Hi-Ho Silver!” he hollers; kissing her cheek with a big wet raspberry,
running deer-like from the barn doors toward the pastures awaiting bossy.
Up the stone tossed rock wall he clambers at ankle breaking pace.
Leaping from stone wall to the cow’s back;
“Come on, chicken!” he yells.
The girl follows more timidly watching out for
the broken, blue-bottle, glass shards
that poke out from between the fieldstones.
Reaching cow side, she blows brown hair from her face.
Hands on her tiny hips, she eyes the cow and rider.
The cow evil eye stares at her from one side of its huge head.
He slaps the cows rump. Sneakers wail into cowside
and with an indignant bellow of disgust rider and cow are off, girless,
toward the saltlick, leaving the kiss
and the red barn, but a memory.
11/30/16
That girl is an over achiever
And avid reader
That girl is a real brainteaser
Yet a true pleaser
That girl had a golden retriever
And a house with multiple bird feeders
That girl yeah she's a high speeder
The music always coming out loud from the speaker
That girl follows her own procedure and not the leader
She's a good teacher
That girl is a talented weaver
And familiar with using beakers
That girl can cook off the meter
Perfect balance of being spicy or sweeter
That girl wasn't eager, she has a wise demeanor
And works where fields are greener
That girl is an excellent cleaner
And she has family that works for Stanley Steemer
That girl burns reefer
And she is quite the sleeper
That girl wears either
Flashy shoes or sneakers
That girl lives by a lot of trees that are cedar
And wild creatures
That girl likes coffee with creamer
And she is not a picky eater
That girl is more than a dreamer
She does it in person whether or not you believe her
That girl can have a heart colder than a freezer
If you ever try to deceive her
That girl I've met and seen her
That girl she a keeper
That girl is more nimble than a ballerina
And more athletic than Venus or Serena
She doesn't rely on having to need a
Visa
She's a diva
Mama Mia!
She can sing as beautiful as aaliyah
Know's how to cook a pizza and damn good fajita
Familiar with herbs and spices including paprika
It's like eureka!
By: Dalton Ogletree
The night descends with a button down moon
against a powder blue comforter sky,
fluffed and puffed with the down of seed
cat and nine tails bursting with pride.
The mothers have called the dinnertime
and the scent of soups on the wind,
sneakers are stacked by the backdoor,
the dog knows, it time to come in.
The table once set is abandoned
for the trays by the big screen TV,
and autumn gourds and chrysanthemums
abandoned on the tables display.
Soon, silhouettes form on the den walls
and children are hurried to bed,
with the call of a wild coyote they run
diving beneath their bedspreads.
All the human light dims, as they hideout
and starlight covers their ceiling,
Mom has places plastic stars of Venus and Mars
to usher in dreams, as they’re drifting.
Oh, the night with its warmth will not last
and soon the chill dawn will arrive
with the call of a neighborhood rooster,
ah, the country’s the place to be alive!
I pen now of days of ultimate charm……
Of walking at midnight with no fear of harm.
When days were heaven, not a living hell.
When riding downtown was safe, on the Chicago El.
The Chicago Theatre, so amazingly glorious.
We went at twelve yrers old,with no fear, just curious!
Actors or actresses, we met at the stage door.
Could this young poetess have asked for anything more?
Restaurants with sparkling glassware, upon
glistening white tablecloths
Before the days of self service,sleazy, plastic
fork and knife haunts.
Days we more than glady got dressed up, to
go downtown.
And not one soul in torn jeans and sneakers
could be found!
Marshall Field was indeed, the department store
of dreams.
In their restaurant, the Walnut Room,in silver bowls,
ate nuts in green-minted ice cream.
My heart weeps for the city, as I knew it once,
so beautifully was.
The Chicago Police once respected, now lose their
lives, buried with honor in their white gloves.
Five hundred Chicagoans lost their lives, just alone
this last year.
A city of bullets, that ring past innocent citizens ears.
filled at midnight, with great fear!
9/25/2022
~1~
The combination lock I had
In high school, for the gym,
Would open with a special code;
Though memory’s grown dim…
I still remember: 2 – 8 – 2
Turn right, then left, then right,
Those numbers etched into my brain,
Which I can still recite.
Those were the only numbers that
I had to memorize
To access something locked away
(My sneakers, I’d surmise).
Yet nowadays, we have to learn
Numeric codes, as well
As passwords to protect us
From where hackers hide and dwell.
And each one should be different,
With 8 characters or more,
Some upper case, plus numbers
Or some symbols, por favor.
It also is expected that
Your brain will, on command,
Be able to cough up those codes
When apps make that demand.
Those years in school so long ago
Did not provide a clue
That some day my stuff would not be safe
With simply 2 – 8 – 2.
I could be a clone of self sacrifice
Ai devoured thee
To the bottom of the dead
Laughing at the humor of life
Turning down running out to grab a case you're needing some attention
When you.are in an empty space of time
When you are turning inside out
Spiralling down
And down
Towards some political debate
Has fear grown another leg
When you get to bottom of that can
Itll take you closer
To the bottom of the dead
To the bottom of the dead
The button they called red
When your youth won't leave you
It beacons to the soul
To keep things simple and congealed
Looking for gel in the hands of a glove
Coming up to bat
Please don't throw me no curve ball or a sinker to the plate
Keep it simple
Though it all seemed done at 19
It was already too late
For fate to.lead you
To the bottom of the 20s
Saying goodbye to fools who seek pain
Losing that air in your head
Feeling that breeze of the dead
Feeling that life in the sun and the rain
And the power of finding the fun
That was lost
At the barrel of a gun
That made life a bowl
So drool so drool
It picks you up
And shakes off the dead
And puts fun back in your head
So we forever leave
The politics who dwell
Att the bottom.
Of the dead
Forty percent was the chance it would rain,
Which is what my phone app was predicting.
I went for my walk with my eye to the sky,
But the darkening clouds were conflicting.
I had an umbrella which fits in the bag
Where I carry my water for drinking,
So I ambled on, getting further away
And I wondered just what I was thinking.
For, after a mile, rain came barreling down,
Without one little drop as a warning.
My umbrella unfurled, I retraced all my steps,
Cutting short my full exercise morning.
Though my sneakers were dripping, as well as my socks,
I got home with just minimal stressin’
But I have to remember my phone often lies,
Which is really a valuable lesson.
I am beautiful no matter how dirty I feel
There is beauty from ashes to ashes and dust to dust, and muddy water has never been so clear, wilting petals never so strong
Life is a journey and there you find the richness of breath
So, breath in and realize that although you feel like you are at the end of you it's only the beginning of the story entitled chapter two
Then breathe out and take another step forward because failure is impossible as long as you try
Don't beat yourself up for not living up to the standards of your perfect world
We will never be perfect in this world, so why is it something we focus on
You want to know something beautiful, beautiful is trying to be the best version of you today
Then as you naturally bloom growth will one day be further than you could ever imagine
Let patience run its course and stop trying to cook a three course meal in 30 minutes
Let patience run its course and it will be easier to adapt at the appropriate time and not after the fact
He is finally facing those facts, because it's harder to learn when you're always behind the 8 ball
Cinderella running to the ball, apple watch says 805pm at least I'm getting my steps in she optimistically chuckles as the dress ruffles and she shuffles forward in her sneakers
Chapter 1 is life, chapter 2 is lessons, chapter 3 learning, chapter 4 let go of the past, fear, and regret
Replant your flowers and this time water your mind with truth, inspiration, and goals
Let the heat of life move you forward and not kill your hope
We are meant to be challenged so make sure your feet aren't always up or in the same place as yesterday
Beautiful is today in this moment so remember that when you feel you can't escape far enough past the past
Let patience run its course and the past will take care of itself
Stop giving it wings on your flight
Beautiful, just because of the word
p.s. beautiful is spelt the way a rose blooms...