I crawled and stayed low as I could,
Wanted to be punished for being anything but good. No boundaries in place before I took a walk around the world complete in a block,
Never knew that being human meant being entitled to make mistakes and being a Christian meant worthy of asking forgiveness and sneaking a peak at the people you pass when you are walking isn't too much pride. I deserved everything I got that made me feel like , being a pathetic introvert just gave me the excuse to allow for my eccentricities. Flawed in more ways then one yet unable to pin point the most debilitating one, I chose being trapped in the body of some fat, frumpy whiter then white ill proportioned gal with an akward pigeon toed walk, unsure stare and a damaged heart left to stew in misery. I truly love harder then anyone I've seen...but I never say a w ok rd about it...just hope that someone feels it.
Rb
And there were four sisters
one of the sewed
one was bow legged
and one pigeon toed
One of them sang
like a Lark in the night
they loved one another
and never would fight
The bow legged sister
was bald in the back
so the sister who sewed
sewed a hat from a sack
When the sister who sang
heard a noise at the door
A burglar!, a thief!
her voice shook the floor
They rose from their sleep
as the man crept inside
the pigeon toed girl
kicked that man in his pride
They all worked together
like pieces that fit
in the puzzle of life
with courage and wit
None of them married
too busy to choose
a singer, a seamstress
a designer of shoes
And what of the
bow legged sister, you say?
well, she races horses
and she makes it pay!
No matter our talents
how big or how small
no matter our difference
a place for us all!
The Rocking Man
Three tables away there sat a rocking man.
He smiled at all and no one,
Exacting just an occasional worried look.
Rhythm out of sync with mundane music,
Oozing out of hidden speakers.
Cock-eyed stare through glasses thick and smeared
Keen to see perhaps a world of sense
In keeping with a mind encased in unknown chains,
Never still save for a change of direction whilst
Grinning at something maybe half remembered.
Moving now with faceless carer close to hand, with
Ambling gait, disjointed, pigeon-toed,
Never having said a single word.
All along I thought Mo's new moniker
Was “Pigeon Toed” from the “Feathered Chronicle”
But I just realized
“Tart” was more idealized
Hope you'll forgive me my happy frolicker
An unsettled soul seemingly always chasing propaganda
voice from the equator, a quarter of a roar but heard in Uganda
he’s a member of a serious interaction, that’s a fake platform
on reputation’s policy, he can’t just conform
his name is a broken glass, his hand is slim
sunk so deep, to retrace will be a hard fought win
the atmosphere created, to more than most isn’t prissy
any unverifiable statement, is painted messy
mind’s never cold, blood’s never warm, traits are preposterous
his touches and sights, always disastrous
only from his lips is a Lion’s mane a pony tail
landing straight into spam are this person’s returned mails
shoulders may be high among peers but walks pigeon-toed
on character’s savings, he has so much owed
less than a metre wide is his only existing bridge
as no coin is left in the weight of his prestige
restitution dials, he picks and replies
his portrait can now be accepted in the community’s panoply
this his newly starched garment has astound
for everyone to wish he comes around.
The barnyard was a twitter.
“She is walking pigeon-toed!”
“You should see it.”
“She thinks she is all that!”
I am dragged out to see.
After listening to them cackle like only hens can do.
There are sixty-six hundred chickens out here
Clucking around.
They are all walking around pigeon-toed.
Haughty with their snobby beaks in the air.
I catch the rooster’s eye.
“They all have fat butts too!” I say.
Expecting him to beak-laugh with me.
He gives them my message in beak-talk.
They surround me quickly
Pecking me to death
As per
instructions
and as per
chickens’ way
I decide never to
do that again.
As I fall into their
smelly chicken scratches.
Have you heard about cowpoke Clapsaddle?
,
He rode fer years on his horse astraddle.
His legs was badly bowed,
And he walked pigeon-toed.
Oddly he named his hoss Fiddle Faddle.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
KJV. Eph: 4:32. And be kind one to another,
tenderhearted,....
There is a legend that's been told
of a spider who was pigeon-toed.
A weaver by craft and crafty he was.
Friendly to all, that was his cause.
He knew them by name,
life was serious, it wasn't a game.
"Lou Little, Lou Little,
Why do you do little?"
said the spider to the fly.
"Please tell me why."
Spider's Web was spun,
But this was all in fun.
"Unique design, pigeon-toed friend,
but I must get home before day's end,"
he answered with glee,
whispering. "he won't catch me."
He opened his wings, rode on the breeze,
thinking next time Spider he'd tease.
Tired from standing, waiting 'til five,
watching, hoping for his guest to arrive.
"I will rest a while," Spider sighed.
Broken, rejected, he cried.
Awakened by a knock on the door,
stumbling toes, he fell to the floor.
His guest heard the sound,
decided to come in and look around.
The world of Spider was before his eyes.
A table set, prepared for him, to his surprise.
Lou Little, bending over felt very sad,
a friend in Spider, the loss he had.
And be kind one to another, tender hearted.
There is a legend that's been told
of a spider who was pigeon-toed.
A weaver by craft and crafty he was.
Friendly to all, that was his cause.
He knew them by name,
life was serious, it wasn't a game.
"Lou Little, Lou Little,
Why do you do little?"
said the spider to the fly.
"Please tell me why.
Can't you see the web I spin,
to let guest like you come in?"
"Unique design, pigeon-toed friend,
but I must get home before day's end,"
he answered with glee,
whispering. "he won't catch me."
He opened his wings, rode on the breeze,
thinking next time Spider he'd tease.
Tired from standing, waiting 'til five,
watching, hoping for his guest to arrive.
"I will rest a while," Spider sighed.
Broken, rejected, he cried.
Awakened by a knock on the door,
stumbling toes, he fell to the floor.
His guest heard the sound,
decided to come in and look around.
The world of Spider was before his eyes.
A table set, prepared for him, to his surprise.
Lou Little, bending over, was very sad,
a friend in Spider, the loss he had.
ClaraBell was the schoolmarm over yonder near Little Creek
Taught the young'uns for more years than she'd care to tell
They called her 'n old spinster, but what folks didn't know
Was that ClaraBell had loved Slim fer a mighty long spell
He came a-ridin' up on old Dan, to a church supper one night
Bow-legged and and pigeon-toed , he sure weren't no prize
But there was sumthun about that old boy that touched her heart
Just the way he spoke, he rightly sounded like a poet in disguise
So the years went by and Slim never cottened to sweet ClaraBell
Now rumor had it that some cowboy verses he'd started to write
And the darned old fool was apparently better than just good
His poetry told stories of cowboys, and folks listened far into the night
One stormy night poor Slim was taken real bad, it looked like the end
Our ClaraBell rode her hoss hard through the dark to be there at his side
He took her hand and whispered real low, Clara," you ain't nearly so bad"
They put on his jeans and she tenderly kissed him before his last ride....
Barbara Gorelick- 9/6/13 For Shadow Hamilton's " New Contest Team Work"..
Written In collaboration with Robert L. Hinshaw and his Poem " Cowboy Poet".
Pigeon-toed and knock kneed
they meander around the ponds edge
an ungainly duo
mother and son
like an ancient fertility figure
found in the caves of Lascaux,France
she tumble-waddles
pendulous breasts bobbing
the dough-like basket of her womb
long emptied with its navel of Earth
submerged in a mound of flesh..
onward she went circumventing
the piddle-pond.
The child not yet Twiddle-Dee'd
by total submersion into
the toxic sweetness of a domino sugar
existence still stood a chance..
yet the spectre of diabetes
loomed around the two
like the Ghost of Christmas future.
There was Snoopy and Odie,
Beethoven and Benjie
All the dalmatians, who caused a great freenzy,
But do you recall........ The most Famous Pug Dog of all........?
Jackson the flat nosed Pug Dog,
Had a very flattened nose
and if you ever saw him,
you would see he's pigeon toed
All of the female Pug Dogs,
liked his little Pug Dog swag
they loved to follow Jackson,
for a little tail wag
Then one stormy Christmas Eve,
Janis Pug heard him say
It's to cold for you to leave,
I really think that you should stay
Now there's a brand new Ornament,
Hanging from the Christmas tree
Jackson the flat nosed Pug Dog
You'll- Go- Down- in - History.............................................