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Cyan 6d
If I had the guts
to stand barefoot before a rolling tank,
I wonder if I’d also be concerned
about the feeling of dirt
between my toes
a little bit
Here is what I need to say,
We're all human with feet of clay,
So, do lay off us chicks today,
Go look in a mirror some day,
To older men with your spare tyres,
Yes! Your gynaecologist has retired!
Feet of clay ,bit of fun, feedback welcome.
Anna Sep 14
Staring at the sun that are your eyes
Star of my universe
Anomic love
No rules
Chaotic as a crisis
You had me dancing over my own feet.
Ivy Leigh Sep 11
I have never
written about love
in a way
that is full of hope
because although
I have felt it,
it is not something
that lasts long
enough to make
me want to write
a poem about
the beauty of
someone looking at their phone
or eating some chips and their
shoelaces on their chucks tied
around their ankles, so maybe
they wont trip
or drag intentions;
they act and react
and feel what's real.
Poetic T Sep 4
I may have tripped
            over my own feet.

But at least when I stumble.

I know its my own steps that
                      got me here.

Laughing that the shoelaces of life,
               made me dust off..

And not watching  my step,
           but make sure if I do

trip again

its my own fault.

          And not someone else,

getting in the way of my walk.
Shaved and clean
Feeling Shiva tonight
End of the world

Knowing fate
Intro to Outro
Fateful fornication
With a light

The wait is over
Floor cracked
Drinks have gone
A bone meets another bone
And you have a joint !
Joints are allright !
Cartilage !
Without them you couldn't possibly dance !
Imagine only your sacrum and your ilium
and no sacro-iliac joint
And no innominate bones
Imagine just a second a pelvis without coccyx
And your seven cervical
Your twelve thoracic
And your five lumbar vertebrae
Hanging loose !
How could you possibly swing your pelvis
From one side to the other
Without your pelvic floor ?
No more grand plié
No more passé développé à la seconde
No more attitude en avant on pointe
Farewell penché
Farewell attitude derrière !
See what I mean !
That's why I always say
I'd rather be with no bone
No skull no heart
Ï 'd rather be a hurricane
Wind has no skeleton
Wind needs no joint
Wind goes naked
No shoes, no underwear
And despite of all that
Wind is a ballet dancer, a danseur étoile
With no dimples in the back.
Wind can lie supine and stand upright
Feet parallel, legs stretched
Wind has no greater nor lesser trochanter
Wind has no right gluteus maximus muscle
No feet flexed, no ****** femoris muscle
Wind never gets pinched, stuck nor jammed
Wind is constant ricochet, yo-yo, meanders
Gulf Stream !
Wind is a catwalk model
Dancing its swinging walk
quiel Aug 21
i have spent time thinking
about your feet
and i have yet to thank them
for they have walked this earth
ever tirelessly,
ever inexhaustibly,
and have brought you

towards me.
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