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Sophia Sep 29
If Cinderella
Was a cooking slave
Instead of a
Cleaning slave,
Her name would be....
Ken Pepiton Sep 7
Aristotle at my fingertips,
not locked in soliloquies I may perform,
but heard from an Oxford don I have
in my pocket,
as I lean into each lesson and trudge
up and down my morning
where the firebreak meets
chaparral alive with cottontail
this morning, when I almost said, "it's too hot."

C'mon, walk a mile with me… like
on the road to Emmaus, but Christ, no;
this character,
a soldier in me, about to salt out, bids me,
walk a mile, "not two, one
does the trick."
The thought comes
as a dare from the Ralston Purina guy,
and I stepped onto my trail.
I dare think Aristotle's thoughts after Plato's,
I could have known this when I was younger,
but not to this degree,

if I had not dropped out, and never knew,
by rote,
to pass a test, that
"All men by nature desire to know."
This is
Curiosity, right? I suspect it is a gift.

The joy we find in sensation, proof
offered the gainsayer,
I say again, that which is good for nothing
naturally exists, so
what tool forms an eye to notice that…

see, through the window
of my poetic-pathetic e-thoughtic soul
a feathery
family of phoebe birds, flits by,
if that is the proper name
{Tufted-Titmouse, my AI replies},
tails reflecting a smokey blue hue,
they swoop and flutter past;
I see
in a non-imaged flashpast pattern
from a time in the summer of 1969…

Disneyfied trails
from Cinderella's dressing room
scene, not seen, but reminded of seeing,
the pattern, in this phantomind dance,
being witnessed now, as
this old soldier once saw it
performed by bluer birds than these…

Time skipper
shifts to another bubble intersecting mine

I hear a worried neighbor fret about the fire.
I almost say,
"One of the benefits of being
backedup to the cloud,

nothing to lose."

But I remember, she collects purses and shoes.
Ah, I share an edge dwellers accent if I talk about tech to myself. I suspect I always have sounded like Little Luke McCoy, and now I hear Walter Brennan.
Abby Jul 12
Cinderella is the story that most young girls start out with
She is the character that we looked up to
As we get older we are told to not be Cinderella because she was weak and needed a prince to save her
But let me tell you something
It’s okay to need saving and it’s okay to need help in order to be saved
And it’s definitely okay to be weak
There are some times you need to be weak in order to know what being strong feels like
This is where my head is right now, I’m not entirely sure why but I felt like it needed to be said
Reappak May 19
Leaves crunched, he ripped through the wind
His fur gleaming bright,
Anger, fury, wrath, danced in his eyes
But deep down he blushed
His Cinderella watched him with warm smiles
She was finally in love,
with this wild night creature
She was my Cinderella
Dancing through memories
Of time,
She held my court
Moving through the ball,
On merry whispers of the
Till fate struck twelve
And left me gazing
At the mystery
Silver slipper
She was my Cinderella.
Dedicated to all unrequited lovers and fans of fairytales
Picturebook Princess

for Keira

We had a special visitor.
Our world became suddenly brighter.
She was such a charmer!
Such a delighter!

With her sparkly diamond slippers
and the way her whole being glows,
Keira’s a picturebook princess
from the points of her crown to the tips of her toes!

Keywords/Tags: Princess, visitor, charm, delight, sparkly, diamond, slippers, Cinderella, crown, glow, glowing, angel, fairy
One day I saw Liza Minnelli
on the television
And she said, pointing down at a
Young women's feet
"I know precisely the day when you will no
longer be able to wear those heels!"
I thought
**** you Liza Minnelli!
Shut your mouth!
That is truly unspeakable
And it does not concern me.

In less time than I would have liked
My beautiful
Coal black brushed sued
Miu Miu Booties
with a golden zip up the back
And the most fantastic heel
(That line!)
Hurt me beyond
anything I knew
a shoe could do to a person
I started taking ibuprofen
before I slid them on
But I knew
Liza is right.
It's over.

It came for me young like menopause.

Women a decade older
are running all over the place
in their stilettos.
Their four inches.
It's more than I can bear
to look at the images anymore.
Because shoe envy is real.
And so is the grief.

Shoes I have known....

I still think with a heavy heart about those
gorgeous Cesare Paciotti t-straps
Some of my last
I didn't know that at the time
It's better not to think
But the memories return
These had an amazing heel as well.
Chunky Italian rather than a delicious subtle

I seek solace in wedges and kitten heels.

O Liza Minnelli!
That evil forewarning.
Does Disney
have a witch that does this sort of thing
because they should.

The craggy finger extends from the cloak
and points down at
the innocent girl's
barking dogs
encased in an excruciating
yet stunning pair.
No apple.

"When the Sun has returned 57? No.
39 times around the Earth, no beautiful shoe
with a perfect heel and toe-box
will you ever wear again.
The pain will be so great that you will beg to take
them off if you are fool enough to put them on."

That's a strange curse my friend.
What kind of unfulfilled bargain prompted that?
Liza Minnelli!

I'm sure that they've seen this
a million times.
At Saks, Neiman's or Bergdorf's
It's probably boring.
"Oh that again."
The shoe goes back into its box.
No point in bringing out the other.
I'm so very sorry madame
There isn't another size
Have you considered a slipper?

I, myself have considered a fete
where all my old broads
get those heels on
regardless of the ability to walk
Bring the crutches
Or the wheelchair
And pose to the gods
There would be serious pain,
even tears.
But I'm fine with ******.

Instagram parties documenting the old hens
under sedation
or knocked out for the photo session
with those insane heels on.
It could happen.
May have already.

Did those red sequins
on your mother's feet
bring into being something not human?
All I know is that it's over for me
and I'm largely innocent.
I will admit to
Jealousy and Envy
but I am not at all bitter
and this does possess cinematic potential
Grimm theatricality
(Grand Guignol used to be
so popular so throw that in)
A Perverse Maytagged Cinderella minus a Prince
It's everything showbiz.
It's entirely fitting.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Out of the mouth of a terrible dogfish she came,
A modern-day Cinderella, but avid shoe geek,
Stabbed to death by stiletto on the Castle Turret,
Done in by her own spiked heels.

There was even a sign posted
Warning of the danger,
"Wear the wedge instead,"
Jiminy Cricket had said.

"I'm no fool,"
Her final utterance
Before tripping out in Thule.

All this just to dance with a wretched boy,
The scapegrace,
Who laughed derisively
In his maker's face,
Then stole his wig.

And as he fled with Candlewick
To the Land of Toys,
He dreamt of Lederhosen & feather hat,
To be seen in Tyrolean as the real McCoy.

Alas, here came the Northerly Wind,
Angry at the boy's lack of moral fiber,
To cast him out & lay bare his sin.

And as the rope passed
Unnoticeably 'round his wooden neck,
On this noose he did swing,
One long shudder, he was done and hung,
Stiff & insensible yo-yo on a string.

The moral of the story, boys & girls:
Fairy-tale Romance is like having
A venomous snake for a pet,
It's cool & fun & magical,
Until you get bit.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
The shoe never fit,
But the clock was to blame
For her act of arson,
An unlucky stroke
Of midnight became
This story's carcinogen.
In high dudgeon,
She set fire to the dance,
Killed her fairy godmother,
And skipping to the merry end,
Ignited her way to a life
Of happenstance.
"That's pretty depressing"
Is it?
Do you know what depression is?
Concealing everything you know out of fear?
And not even knowing it?
The substance abuse?
The story you never endured?
The crying at night?
The whimpering the morning after?
The tired, ragged eyes?
Or the ruffled and beaten hair?
The killer in me brought out?
The love in me admitting naught?
The part of me that keeps asking?
Or the part of them that keeps answering "no"?

Pain difficult to encapsulate
And yet you blame it on my former mate
Maybe it's me
Maybe I need the new clean slate
Time to start over
The new me is not the old you
I am dying to start over
But they
They are still here

And tomorrow
When can I start anew?
Answer me that you canoe
Paddle me up the river of heart
And end me up endless in pain
A second guess left me nothing but more than a shoe
Wear me to payment
I still stuck around
To prove my depression is imminent and bound
I did this to me
But do you understand?
Take me off
I was the same as expected from thee
Do you get it?
Try me on, Cinderella
If I don't fit, then get with it
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