Over the head of each metatarsal
you can see
where each has been pounded,
some more abused than others.
Over the years
new prominences and depressions
form and reform.
Surreal faces appear
within the lines of the skin,
features that now seem
to look inward
as if the hammer had become that
which it had once so heavily hit.
In the tenderness of your elder years,
if you touch one of those metatarsal heads
with a sensitive fingertip
you can trace back the life-step,
where you had been faced with
just 5 choices
or less.
Categories:
metatarsal, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Over the head of each metatarsal
you can see
where each has been pounded;
some are more abused than others.
Over the years
new prominences and depressions
form and reform.
Surreal faces appear
within the lines of the skin,
features that now seem
to look inward
as if the hammer had become that
which it had once beaten.
In the tenderness of your age
if you touch one of those metatarsal heads
with a sensitive fingertip
you can trace back the step,
where you had been faced with
5 choices.
Categories:
metatarsal, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Supporting England's like being bipolar
one minute they'll win it the next it's over
we resort to branding them prima donnas
though we ourselves sure they'd win honours,
the cycle repeats
quarter final beats
metatarsal feets
penalty defeats
the proud scenes
singing God Save The Queen
luck not Irish green
victory only in dreams
the red cards we've seen shown
or the goals a many disallowed
singing football's coming home
and singing it proud
we are England
flying our Saint George cross
we're better than Scotland
playing like they're lost
we are prevented
bringing home what we invented
ideas of winning are demented
but in our destiny it's cemented
P.s I am demented
Categories:
metatarsal, england,
Form: Rhyme
Impartial Marshall
When I was pulled over by a marshal
Had wanted him to be impartial
Never favorites ever playing
Always kind words saying
Before he steeped on my metatarsal.
Jim Horn
Categories:
metatarsal, humorous,
Form: Limerick
What I miss most about my metatarsal
Was one day when I started to parcel
It out with all of the rest of my remains
Which suffered and endured aches and pains.
Rest of me also was rather unique,
But through time our bodies still peak
In performance and downhill have to go;
Only thing left is for curiosity to grow.
Still in the somber scene is our senility
Along with all of our poetic ability
While we wonder never knowing quite why
Rhyming is troubling for others who try.
So read their poems and with associate;
Writing will be better and turn out great
And some day many may have insisted
That I rare back and join Poetry Revisited.
Finally, after someone's reluctant request
And hearing my poems often had confessed
So strange and unusual they happened to be
Which is why I like living in land of the free.
Categories:
metatarsal, how i feel,
Form: Couplet