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Colm May 2019
Just a blind man can have faith
In the firmness of world beneath his bed
So also will I believe in steadfastness of my God
And that I will arise anew each day
To begin again
For as long as he wishes
I am his
Colm May 2019
Envious
Is a deep word
Meaning more than envy itself
Envious is craving your feet on the other side of the world
Where no road ends
When the same rain falls
And when all things turn inevitably
For better or worse
We are all on the same green Earth
Envious. Because wanderlust is such a trap.
shamamama May 2019
Some strong sensations on my ankle
Unravel me
Dissolve me

Remind me
When pain and suffering
Led the path

I thought it was real,
Was the only,
Was the only way--

And now I wake up to ten thousand
Hairs on the soles of my feet
Tugging me
Into the day
From starlight
And ancestors
Going my way

Remember, remember
I walk on these feet
With curiosity, flexibility,
Wonder and love

Grandmother Earth
Is right down below-- So
Today I can step on
The ground with pure joy,
Embracing this place by
Loving breath from my soles
A Long while ago I was challenged for a few weeks by my legs, I learned to approach life and "my doings" with reverence and love to ceremony, intention, and awareness.
~~~
~bye~
what right we mess with a better gone before?^

what right does it mess with our composure
one hundred and three years later?

~

“Such are the little memories of you”

these crafted words of flying feet bittersweet
knock a mother farther back upon her lowered flat heels,
recalling too, similar and same,
the resounding pattern of a gone child’s pitter-patter,
of treading, exploring long hallways and secret rooms
with comfortable, yet reckless flying abandon until,
a fateful reckoning abandons us both

this poem elocutes my charges against your Taker,
and all the little prayers of the angels sent to minister,
give no comfort like the giant memory of your
running little feet,
coming and going and gone
^ To Theodore

by George Marion McClellan, 1860

Such are the little memories of you;
They come and go, return and lie apart
From all main things of life; yet more than they,
With noiseless feet, they come and grip the heart.
Gay laughter leading quick and stormy tears,
Then smiles again and pulse of flying feet,
In breathless chase of fleeting gossamers,
Are memories so dear, so bitter-sweet.

No more are echoes of your flying feet.
Hard by, where Pike’s Peak rears its head in state,
The erstwhile rushing feet, with halting steps,
For health’s return in Denver watch and wait.
But love and memories of noiseless tread,
Where angels hovered once, all shining fair,
To tuck you in your little trundle bed,
Kneel nightly now in agony of prayer.
Badshah Khan Apr 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 83

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

I am passively standing at the sea shore,
The sea waves willingly grasp my dainty feet.

With soothing and chillness
Everytime they voluntarily undergo
And dearly retreat my dear feet with tender touch.

Indeed, they bear the vast knowledge.
Under beneath themselves.
However, they tenderly caress,
My dear feet with sincere love.

How lucky am I, as your own creation,
Oh All Known Divine Creator!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
Jenna Apr 2019
My feet dangle in question
if these legs will ever grow
or perhaps find motivation
to make their own tracks again
leaving imprints of obliviousness

Wheels turn, stuck momentarily
a glimpse of looping future
pushing with a heavy burden
footsteps echo hollowly
dragging approaching fate
Poetress2 Apr 2019
Bare feet in the sand,
as it squishes neath my toes.
I love the Ocean!
Vic Mar 2019
Six feet under,
Down the drain.
Lie my feelings,
Is my luck.
Six feet under,
Under this dirt.
Is my hapiness,
Is my love.
Six feet under,
Or hidden anywhere.
Depression is here,
Right inside me.
Six feet under,
Where we live.
I try to
Cover this sadness.
Six feet under.
I try to hide,
Alcohol, Drugs, Cigarettes.
I'm slowly suffocating.
I write a small poem every dat, about how I feel or the world around me. This is #7
Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2019
Oh
My toe
Is filled
With woe
Because one
Sad solo
Sock and shoe
Overflows
With wet ice
And freezing snow
But I won't show
Or let anyone know
The cold I feel
Numbing me slow
I know
It will grow
But onwards
I go
So
I guess
My warmth
I owe
To this foe
I realized
Long ago
I can't or won't
Overcome
Overthrow
Or say no
To chilly air  
That through me flows
Without fail
Stealing my glow
Although
I suppose
I'm used to it though
This evil villian
That stays down low
Underneath
My feet
Below
I wrote this nine years ago!
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