Shoe Lace Poems | Examples

Shoe Lace

Looking down at the object in her lap,
A single shoe with intertwined laces.
Each time she laced a pattern,
She would look down
Because it seemed so wrong to her.
But the more she laced,
The more she continued,
She started seeing the vision
Of a perfectly laced shoe.
It finished, produced,
Sat on her thighs,
Beneath her eyes.
And the phrase that came to her mind
Was, "My life and the lace are so alike."


It was not because her life was so perfect; no,
It was because they are both so imperfect.
Because she was always the rejected one.

Just like the lace,
Her beginning was not good nor perfect.
Which discouraged many people from actually giving her a chance to continue.
What hurts the most?
Is it their rejection?
Or is it her lack of a voice?
Is it the level of hatred they showed her?
Or is it the same treatment she gives even though she knows better?

I miss

I miss Judith, for devil that she was,
she would give me a stare each time I pass,
built like a fort on two pillars of stone,
she would glare like I had sins to atone!

she recycled curtains to make her dress,
she tied her hair with old shoe lace, God bless,
her speech was a dragon breathing fire,
if disobeyed, consequences were dire.

I miss Judith for all the things she did,
under toughness, all the goodness she hid,
clean house, good food, love and care she would show,
harsh on surface, deep in, her heart would glow.

my pretty wife’s dear mother Judith was,
if in my house, you would know who was boss,
she would make you feel welcome, serve you tea,
give you roasted cashew, brimming with glee.

judge not your dear ones for how they behave,
we count their faults, forget all good they gave,
not everyone in life trains to show love,
in her falcon, was hid a peaceful dove.

why pretend to be tough, shall never know,
at hint of our suffering, her tears flow,
many like her who glare when mean a kiss,
for the angel she was, Judith, I miss!

A Dollop Of Marmalade

A dollop of marmalade
dripped off my toast
and onto my wrist
raising my wrist to lick it off
I smeared the toast into my hair
now in the macro scheme of things
it isn’t much
but 
after a morning that includes
an empty toothpaste tube
squeezed flat 
and rolled up really tight
and a shoe-lace
that snapped four eyes down 
my toast
sliding stickily down the wall
is 
I’m willing to bet
letting me know
in no uncertain terms    
that all is not as it should be
and that my day ahead
is going to be a little rough.

Silent Resilience

I am not that guy, what you see
I stay in silence and you all laugh at me. 
My future is locked, just have to find the key
I will to stay in imagination having a cup of tea.

Bullying my imagination, don’t you even dare
Being known, lying others, which I know it`s not fair.
Work is the supremacy, I don’t believe in prayer
Attitude, character and behaviour are different but lie in same layer.

Life is a journey, where time is the guide 
When a problem comes, I face it rather going beside
I laugh from inside being serious at the point which people lied
I am moving with different character, keeping my shoe lace tight
Don`t take me easy, I am not the guy who compromise
Till each single drop blood dries, I will fight.

Kindergarten Teacher

Kindergarten Teacher

  Kind when she shares her bologna sandwich.
 
  Imaginative when she has to use Q-tips to teach.
  
  Nurturing to teeter totter injuries.
  
  Daring when rescuing an mystery object from the toilet.
  
  Earnest when explaining this adventure to her principal.
  
  Responsible for helping 23 children put on 23 coats and getting all 23 
  to the bus on time.
 
  Gentle when covering boo-boos with impossible to open bandaids.
  
  Aimiable when greeting parents.
  
  Resourceful when finding uses for 75 popsicle sticks.
 
   Tactful when explaining Timothy's new permanent marker freckles to 
   his mother.
  
   Energetic when chasing a dog off the playground.
  
   Nose blowing expert.
  
 

  Talented when using a pipe cleaner to replace a lost shoe lace.
  
  Elated with a new set of blocks.
  
  Afraid of itchy heads.
  
  Capable of jumping rope in heels on the playground. 
  
  High spirited when there is a snow day.
  
  Excited about caterpillars.
   
  Ready for nap time!

Tempus Fugit

TEMPUS FUGIT

I seemed to be going through a change,
Maybe the male menopause.
Or perhaps a mid-life crisis,
But I had fun whatever the cause.

I purchased a Harley Davidson
To roar about the place
And I rescued my flares from the wardrobe
That I’d held on to, just in case

With a cowboy shirt and a shoe-lace tie,
I reckoned I looked pretty cool.
But my wife said they weren’t back in fashion
And I simply looked an old fool

I dug out my vinyl collection,
Mostly Bill Hayley and Elvis,
And tried to relive the days of my youth
On the dance floor, rotating my pelvis.

But, last week, I fell off the Harley,
Performing a series of dares
And it caused great amusement in A & E
When the nurse had to cut off my flares.

So now it’s out of my system,
I’ve reverted to acting my age.
As I sit with my pipe and slippers,
Dressed head-to-toe in beige

Elvis has gone back in the loft
And I have to say he’s not missed.
For now, for relaxation,
I listen to Mozart and Liszt.

5th February 2022
Latin Lessons poetry contest
Sponsor - Margarita Lillico

Superior Mother

If I feel guilty 
Does that make you
Superior Mother
Am I just a bad bad boy
Who’s just to much of a bother!
I guess things haven’t changed much
Since you taught my father

All of your Sisters
Most of them
had that same sour face
I can understand 
How children’s laughter 
seemed so out of place
Were you afraid it might make your heart race?
If you had one
It didn’t occupy much space
No one at the school was qualified
or equipped to teach Grace 
Smack smack 
Another kid
For forgetting to tie his shoe lace

Those golden rules
Seemed more like lead
I can still remember that ear pull
It felt like it would come off my head
It was still sore when I went to bed
I guess I shoulda listened
To what you said.
Sorry for making you see red.

Now the school is closed
No more rules or uniform
Me I’m okay now
I wasn’t born to conform
To you I was unpredictable 
Kinda like 
a  thunder storm
I didn’t fit any norm
Sometimes clay can be
Just a bit to hard to form.

What Gets Me Out of Bed In the Morning

What gets me out of bed in the morning is a thankful prayer that starts my journey. Sometimes I feel lazy in quarantine but the truth is that I am still breathing out my dream. I am still alive and I want to go where the butterflies fly. Their is evidence all around you because the spirit of the Lord is true. Jesus Christ motivates me as I hang my blankets high up the tree. The sun shines in my face as I tie my shoe lace. Why should I be afraid when God was with me as I prayed. I will open up the door because that’s what I was created for. I was created to live my purpose and to get up and be gracious. I am forever thankful and my heart is eternally full. I will get up! God Bless!

If You Pull a Long Face - Part Xxvii

IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXVII

IF you pull a long poet's face
All things you write go awry
E'en fans who cuddle up offer no solace
Remember Kipling's " IF " the price to pay

If you pull a long deserted face
E'en friends plot with club members to assail
You lose will e'en to tie loose line shoe-lace
Damn could e'en petty sins cause such travail

If you go on pulling that long worsted face
Lines you lilt and rhyme sound airy-fairy
You push pen you powder verse till tears race
Creative college rhetoric plunder words weary  

Yet if you pull this long-lined sick face
Grinding teeth biting lips till red ink spray
Ask who cut off Van Gogh's ear to spite his coal-mine face
Will a Gauguin mock a Brando's South-Seas belles-ballet

If you pull a long Art-for-Artifice sake face
Ask whose Kafkayesque trials plagued a Welles's Moro-Jacobean play
Holy-Wood chef-d'œuvres dictate classic post-modern pace
Kaleidoscopic formulae : rape batter murder on Tolstoyian vertebrae

© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 31, 2019

If You Pull a Long Face - Part Xxiii

IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE : Part XXIII

IF you pull a long-pained face
After tumbling down the Stairway
Do not the blame put on loose shoe-lace
The fault, pained-poet, may lie in gut-loose kidney

Now if you still pull that pained-look victim face
Watching others trip down whistling care-free gay
Turn back the pages and ill-fraught lines replace
With clippety-cloppy trained strides in horse-shoe gait

Yet if you insist on parading your long-pulled face
Draw not attention to the Maker of the Stairway
Nor sit on High Horse of thorough-bred DNA race
Most if not ALL will slip down the slippery Stairway

If you go on pulling that long-dethroned face
Know that ev'ry race-winner aloft long does not stay
Be it White Brown Black Yellow or of mixed-race
No use then claiming favoured-place with Potter of clay

So if you must pull that long Pale Face
Do it where you don't step on toes in any way
Sunscreen melotinine paves not way to pride of place
If you believe in One Maker why d'you to One Son pray

© T. Wignesan - Paris, January 23, 2019

The Girl

In the beginning 
I saw her pretty face
Smiling with her teeth with space
I watched her bend over to tie her shoe lace
And I could see her cleavages with enough space.


In the follow up
I approached her
She said her name is Nina
I told her I was feeling her
She didn't say thanks,not a compliment to her
Her friends kept giggling, like I Couldn't stand a chance with her.


On another day
She was looking like a diamond 
Reflecting the sunlight,being adored 
I walked up to her and this time it worked
Because her friends were absent,we talked
And as we walked we bonded like ironic bond

                             Dheji_lion

Change Causes Change

Change Causes Change

As you change, the world will change;
As the world will change, you change;
God is sure to have set planned pace;
So get ready to run and tie shoe lace.

Jim Horn

Jim Horn

Playing With Wonder

I wonder, I wonder, I love to wonder.
I wonder if there is a god?
I wonder if his name is Tod?
I wonder if he thinks I'm a sod?
I wonder if he likes Salmon or Cod?
I wonder if I'll die by his rod?

I wonder, I wonder, I love to wonder.
I wonder if there is a million of me out there in the vastness of space?
I wonder if they have a similar face?
I wonder if their life is a race?
I wonder if some can't do up a shoe lace?
I wonder if they're police, cracking a case?

I wonder, i wonder, I love to wonder.
I wonder what my soul thinks of me?
I wonder if he sees what I see?
I wonder if he likes coffee or tea?
I wonder if through him I'll find the key?
I wonder if finding him is my destiny?

I wonder, i wonder, I love to wonder.
I wonder if love is fake?
I wonder if its for comforts sake?
I wonder if my heart needed to break?
I wonder if it matters she can bake?
I wonder if they'll all cheat when I'm not awake?

I wonder, I wonder, I love to wonder.
I wonder if I'm on the right road?
I wonder if I'll die by the sword?
I wonder if I've ever been adored?
I wonder if I'd ever get to cut an umbilical cord?
I wonder if I'm just a fraud?

Ladder

I’m holding a passion deeper then any amber eyes,

Then any last day among a feather tip to,

Bitter sweet hand among a grace feather among shoe lace,

The heart of young king eyes of gentlemen is approach,

Sitting among the steeper steps of life that,

Lead to a path to unknown is heart to clever net,

Hide of a note of love,

Ladder to climb home looks and whistle,

Scatter like bees to a dinner for honey sweet home,

War shack no fear of the envy site I am back home,

Known such laughter soon to fit the core of life,

Bitter sweet hand among a grace feather among shoe lace,

Mark a gentlemen that climb such a,

Ladder.

A Knot of Shoe Lace

Happiness and gloom, interlinked.
When a smile decorates a face,
Other remains sad possessed.
I hate to say, it's like a knot of shoe lace.
At the moment of grateful joy for one,
May be for the other the poorest mode on
Feelings jovial shall be in the room of heart.
And other's will harsh emotional struggle.
You never know what comes next.
Are you fornuate?- stop the torture to self.
For none is destined to be a legend.
Though effortless minds won't get,
What might dynamic barbarians with raids set.
Truly said, Labour never goes in vain.

For patience may be the way,
Every stoppage is either sorrow or gay.
But you move on for destination's sake.
In this life cycle, be you the rider.
And will come an end to this someday.
Until then, live worry less and unafraid.

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