"barefooted" poems
Barefooted is not good ,so A pair of shoes helps in any season ... People rush to buy the best and the highest qualities Even if their prices are like pyramids ... I don't understand this rush towards All different kinds of pairs of shoes ... There are people who are ready to buy The whole shoes' stores At any price !
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC
.
•they'd
come at night•
these footsteps are
never light• always
heavy and running ar-
ound•...they are annoy-
ingly creepy..., these aw-
ful sounds•every night,
after eleven without
fail•into rooms,
us they would
tail• making a
din overhead
•when all
should
be quiet inste-
ad•like barefooted
children i would ***
ume...•wandering and
exploring into every ro-
om•...could they come
wilfully•from the cou-
ple who live above
me•i very much
doubt so•bec-
ause this much
i know...•that
the neigh-
bour up-
stairs, they're
old•frail and meek;
never bold•they'd re-
tire early•after late, ne-
ver a party•now... there
the feet go again•drivi-
ng me almost insane•
on my ceiling now,
they're pacing•
they know i kn-
ow and they are
playing•these
invisible
feet•ne-
ver would we
meet•one thing for
sure•this is not a friv-
olous tour•determined
to tell•that they exist
as well•nothing i'm
certain but it is clear
•i think they really
like it here...•
•i don't think
they're leavi-
ng•they're
bent on
staying...•
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC
candles light up her room
it smells like herbs
and flowers
fall is her favorite season
she enjoys the rain
while dancing trough the woods
barefooted
she's one with nature and the sun
but in love with the moon
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 3:39 PM UTC
To be a good writer or a poet
You have to be good at wearing shoes other than your size
Size 1, 2, 3, up to size 10
Even if it falls off your feet or too tight, you just have to try
Not only shoes, also all other kinds of footwear
From socks, sandals, flip flops, and slippers
High-heeled, boots, flippers and sneakers
Even barefooted, if there's nothing else to wear
Then, walk with it, run with it
Feel the calluses and feelings it brings
Up until its soles are wearing thin
Then, write the experience
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
Though in dexterity my physically challenged carpenter father,
Than the physically fit proves better,as a source to his anger,
With contemporaries a level ground he enjoyed never!
From late childhood there was one thing that me used to bother, why my so discriminated father
On his turn true to cultural dictates,ill treats my domestic chores saddled mother
And heeds not her say though by the sweat of their brow
As responsible parents they were happily bringing my sister and I together?
I still wonder why ,why ,why my sister who has IQ
On par with me if not better,to help out mother
Suffering a cold shoulder even by her mom was denied the right to pursue education further
While I was given a chance to prove a man of letter(s)?
I remember, crossing many a pool, barefooted, I used to trek
A long distance to a nearby town's a school,
Where for my provincial and shabby clothes I was seen a fool
By the relatively rich in showing courtesy far from cool.
Though stationery they didn't lack , sad,I had a hand tied behind my back.
Alas,up on joining campus where I yearned for the sagacious a chance
There too in my class,I was looked down by students
Hailing from families of the top brass.
When I went abroad for a higher education enjoying fellowship and donation
Worse still, I met many, colour has coloured whose vision.
Ironically my dissertation was drawing attention
To why should the broad mass be standers by
And with ill-fate marked die
While the favoured ,racist and the corrupt few gobble over 3/4 of the pie? /
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 3:11 AM UTC
"Have you met a gorgeous, lady at sunset?"
Someone said as we shook hands.
She was just a barefooted lady,
Brighter than the sunset in front of me.
Then I said, "Hello lady,
You're a lady who understands,
I'm a man who must be free."
As the sun falls asleep,
Let's walk along the beach,
Let's live a real life,
I can see it in her eyes, that she despises rainy nights,
She loves the moon reflecting off the water,
She loves sunny days,
Watching the skies just before dawn,
She loves autumn leaves.
Trying to figure a clever way, not to say goodbye,
To find some clever lines to say,
To make the meaning come through,
That's why Lady Sunset,
That's why Lady Sunset,
That's why Lady Sunset is a Goddess.
I love you.
I love...
Copyright © 2016 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
In the worst of times, martyrs will march barefooted into foreign lands
To toil its earth with flesh and sweat and blood
They jaunt north to south searching for milk and honey
and gold coins to put in their empty pockets
They stop to find out that they cannot walk barefooted
For the road is nothing but thorns and hot sand that scorch the feet
The merciless air is aloof and condescending
These people, they suffered
for their skin cracks in the winter and burns in the rain
Their tongue aches from speaking a different language:
voices turned into an unfathomable cadence
Frail skin torched like a hot tar to tissue paper
leaving only blackened soot
They come home with a dry mouth and scarred heart
These heroes will look up above into the cold night sky
to look for inkling of stars that guided them
For there is nothing sweeter than to bring food back home
To where hungry mouths and empty hands suffer in pain
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 6:09 AM UTC
the motherships are
hovering overhead
& to the east,
apollo breathes fire
past the ****** off incisors, like
'try &
catch me now'
now,
or never.
to my west I felt nothing
but the most
uncomfortable comfort.
it's just.
too.
much.
becoming barefooted
clouds of dust I run
to the godlight
& in time I find I
also become
disenchanted.
& I'm just freeezing
& my feet are filthy & bleeding
but
anything for that rush
tell me somethin brother
do ya cluster with the others?
are you some
undiscovered color
in the monochrome gutter?
are you sixsixsix seven
aren't you *** & heaven
dost thou seek
the foul
or the feather'ds;
brother of blood
& sweat,
is thou the sheep
or the shepherd?
wolfman.
we want the teeth.
to the tooth, troopers.
how rude;
I can see right thru
that wool suit
all too true to the stupor,
stupid.
don't you know I know you,
don't you.
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC
A bird in an aurulent billed mud-face,Living as a four foot two inch dragon in a San Franciscan cave,
Lifts off from a hot breathed murmur of Gideon.
Even in night the whole grandeur of movement
Soaking in red beeping heart-pangs
Fasten to the thrusts of his arms.
This post of vainglory was the opening of the year.
In July's open pores,
On a spatial plateau of Dodonian oak.
The Penguin
Unveils his weakened voice.
Flattening into a wide arrow
Draped from Carina he
Sails Westward. Barefooted through the Anavros
Molting under deep helplessness and melancholia.
With his inlaid eyes faced askance
The penguin broods
Among the day's songs
Cast into the poetry of the lyre,
Stretched upwards from Paradise Bay to Colchis,
Where his ebony wings
Soak into the palms of Peleus
Suffering only where the arrows have flung.
Downside up, with children in a pocket of blood,
Among supergigantic siren songs and muse poems
Sewing teeth into a spot of Earth
Races towards a column of toppling strakes.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 5:48 AM UTC
*///
A rough ramp,
too many edged stones on the surface
she is walking on the ramp with booted a high pencil heel
we see her speed, her fashion
we say that it's her smartest move
even her body language shows the beauty
but it's true that one of us sitting there doesn't care her at all
The flowers are on the fire,
blooming throughout the garden
too many colors, coloring the spring
so much aroma appealing around
either the bees are buzzing or not
growing itself through the nature
either we are caring those or not
Birds are flying around the sky
they are highly ambitious
sometimes they fly over the dark clouds
yet they are unclogging their feathers throughout the sky
until the clouds are breaking into the water
showing that they don't care about the height of the heaven
even you see their stunning diving or not
When it's an amazing raining
maybe you are walking toward the horizon
who is shining sharply within the rainbow?
the little boy is enjoying through the window!
its a playful beauty beyond
It doesn't care about thee
either we are looking, caring or not
Boys are barefooted,
walking on the broken glasses,
bleeding blood on the floor
making spot on the spaces
they are running within the daydreams
now they don't care about anything
**** we never wish to care them at all
///
Musfiq us shaleheen*
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
Her shoes
Small and pretty ones .
She said u had no clue what my blue shoes are going through .
She had a shoe bite ,
She was uncomfortable .
The shoe soul weak holded just came out .
What the hell !!
She looked down at her feet with black eyes
She was worried .
Her innocence and beautiful face lost the charm
She cursed herself for the shoe she wore .
Brought a day just before from a big shoe store .
She loved her little tiny ones and the branded trust
A mere 2 days and the pair went bust !!
I had no clue what to do ?
As it was raining outside
Seeing her misery , i didn't feel cool and I was worried about her humble feet .
Going barefooted along the road could not be fun .
Cellotape all over shoes was only idea left and looking for cobbler the another one .
Walking down the street with broken shoe
I felt for her ,but nothing i could do .
With her walked in the shoe shop , she was blessed .
New pair and the smile on her face .
I said just chill and be happy , u got to share this moment with me bcz we haven't talked in a while .
She reminds we have to go home soon .
We rushed for the train .
She was happy though , no crowd , she could seat and reach home . Waved my hand and I could only give her good wish .
All along the way I was thinking about her , had a laugh too but what if I would have gone through !!
She thanked me and was happy with her new shoes .
Indeed me too .
A day to be remembered .
- Suhas Ghoke
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
My beautiful little Princess
I wonder as I am...
Watching you sleep in the silent night
What travels in the mind of a sleeping child?
There’s a smile at the corner of your lips
Are you having a sweet dream?
Are you playing with angels in heaven?
Are you dancing barefooted in the garden of angels?
If I could I beat the time…
And travel back through the time tunnel
I wish to be born again
To be a sleeping child just like you
If I should trade my life
To be that sleeping child again
I would….
Sleep my little princess
Sleep peacefully through the night..
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 3:39 AM UTC
Looking for another acting award
An actor asked one poor, what his shoe looks like
The unfortunate caught off guard
But he smiled, then answered with no fright
Well, today it doesn’t look so well
You see I don’t wear it now
Looping sun and rain hurt it like hell
But it is tough and survive somehow
It stands tall against the mighty storm
I really appreciate its endurance
But as time goes by, its look deformed
I don’t know if it can take another resistance
So here I am now walking on the street barefooted
But may I ask you sir, why are you asking for my shoe
You see I can’t buy one, my pocket is so wounded
Hence believe me about my footwear, it’s all true
Looking for another acting award
An actor asked one poor, what his shoe looks like
Now he got the best trophy reward
A teary eye, a lesson that deeply strikes
9/17/2015
Mysterious Aries
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
Come walk with me a mile...
Walk on without our burden’s weighty shoes,
warily trudging over the long rocky pathway
a lifetime in my soul.
A final edifying voyage to freedom.
The winds of change are blowing briskly
as we walk charily over the long and narrowing
rock-strewn passageway.
I shed these boots and skin, no longer fitting
my scared, blistered and callused soles.
As time slowly passes,
this craggy passage has evolved
from a two-way trail,
into one-way jagged forage…
Standing barefooted and naked on rocky ground,
dark sunken sleepless eyes scan
the rolling vista as the wind blows
dust from the halo around the sun,
blurring the delicate wispy cirrus clouds.
The sun’s radiance paints frozen ice crystal azure
into a vivid aura of prisms’ brilliant corona.
Kaleidoscope rainbows adorn the closest of solar stars.
There's something in the ethereal air
that leaves my soul unsettled,
grasping for an evocative stability
trying to understand the silenced voices
crying out within…
The pain and suffering has vanished
as if the body and soul have separated,
numbness from the ache of longing,
severed nerves, callused fears
ruptured on serrated rocky edges,
deadened useless flesh cut to the bone
by misjudged obstacles encountered enduringly.
The barefooted spirit courses on,
suffused in the solar spectrum’s dust;
yearning, longing to saunter
above and beyond the bloated feathery pillows;
cumulus clouds finally resting at peace.
Dipping heart's lesions and these benumbed toes
into a healing balm
from the bowers of bliss..
An unfinished life
an open ended dream,
reluctantly waking to take the last ,
surrendering steps beyond the threshold...
A long and winding rocky journey’s destiny
draws near
The halo around the moon
illuminates an understanding firmament;
the celestial sphere’s
pending imminent soulful rain awaits
the metamorphosis at the brink of dawn.
A shower of heaven's rain
shall mourn the loss of flesh form
as the spirit of an untamed soul lives on,
barefooted,
naked and free
like the dust in the wind
absorbed eternally...
2011 © harlon rivers
all rights reserved
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 11:16 AM UTC
Okay…
So…
my kids ain't all that regular
thats cuz my kids
didn’t get no regular mama
/ My kids got a / way making / hard working / kid feeding / plant growing
/ source loving / puppy hugging / kitten saving / truth telling
/ baby kissing / spell casting / candle lighting / hymn singing / literature chewing
/ jambalaya cooking / *** kicking / loud laughing / soft hearted / hard drinking
/ powder digging / dream weaving / moon dancing / braid wearing / barefooted
/ hippy of a poet-mama…
And I ain't sad that I’m peculiar…
cuz I’m the only me we got…
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 3:18 PM UTC
If I could, If I had the courage
I'd run away....
Far... where the forgotten kidnapped children are buried
Far... where oxygen has no name
And I'd walk there like a barefooted gypsy
The insanity of it all driving me sane
Far... where the undiscovered grows
Far... where danger begins
And I'd inhale it all like it was natural
I guess, danger and I will be friends
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
Barefooted teenager
Sliding D&G; watches
Into a bag filled with
Addidas shoes.
It's bonfire night in the cities
Of England. Come out, children,
To the heart of the city and
Bleed it dry.
Betray your hunger,
The greed that consumes you
And the indifference bred into
Your marrow.
Bred by despair and shiny
Baubles in window displays
And worn by all those
Stars in those glossy mags.
It's a consumer's world; it's about
Instant gratification, not hard work -
Even if work could be found.
But why work if you can steal?
Bonfire night. Like when we burn that
Guy. Fawkes? He tried to destroy Parliament
But teenage angst and thugs could do in a few nights
What his barrels of gunpowder couldn't.
Alcohol and **** to last a
Short lifetime. Shopkeepers in the way
Should know better; You can't fight
Irrationality. It has no conscience.
****** loot, burn like in those
Movies about war, Grand Theft Auto,
And a million other games. Just keep
Moving so you never have to actually think.
But just in case, let's blame someone else:
Let's blame race, the Met, politicians,
The schools, the economy, parents -
Society.
Burn, London. Burn, Birmingham,
Burn, Manchester, Burn Liverpool.
Burn, Gloucester. Burn, burn, burn,
But let tomorrow be just another day.
Bonfire night. Every night.
Till they put out the fires,
Tend the wounded and
Bury the dead.
Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 5:55 PM UTC
(This poem is on the earthquake that people in Sikkim,India had faced on 18 September 2011. I was one among them too! P.S- on this very that is my brother's birthday! So i remember it more profoundly....just read on to find out more. Certain words mean the following out here-
MG MARG- MAHATMA GANDHI MARG.{Marg means street.}
LAL BAZAAR-refers to a marketing place in the capital of Sikkim,i.e,Gangtok)
MAAL ROADING-Maal road is generally found in most of the hill stations in India. But in my college, Maal Road has a different and funny meaning.)
DISCO COMMITTEE-refers to the DISCIPLINARY Committee in our college,which takes stringent actions against the guilty.)
18 was the date-
When a bunch of girls had decided
to travel through the city.
But I was the one who wasn't prepared,
As it was raining pretty heavy.
The girls planned to eat,roam and shop about,
through the MG MARG and LAL BAZAAR!
Fortunately for me due to some unavoidable circumstances
the plan got dropped....
And all I could see was girls making unbearable pouts!!
In the evening,
when people go out MAAL ROADING,
I went to the shop with a company
for buying a recharge card as done daily!
Though I bought it,
I somehow forgot to scratch it, I rather kept it inside my bag.
Strolling down the campus
We sat on the football field
Watching the players kicking the ball in glee
With their boots,shorts and tee!
At exactly 6:10 pm, there was a great turbulence,
which caused a whole lot of purturbence!
Yes, that was the 6.9 that shook us!
People running to and fro to save their lives,
some shirtless,some barefooted and some in towels!
With buildings shaking and cracking
there was nothing
but utter horror and shouting!
People seemed like Refugees,
With no phone networks to contact friends,relatives and families!
We were told to sleep with our room doors open.
But how could we when there were still tremors coming?
SHAKE! and people would be out on the streets!
Such a day it was, when Mother Nature had terrorised us!
Still the authorities couldn't help themselves from separating boys and girls!!
If they happen to meet each other,
They would have to face the DISCO COMMITTEE all together!
Huh!! When will you get rid off this mentality?
So that we can live joyous and peacefully!!!
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
When I was in 6th grade
I stepped out of the shower
Naivety prevalent in my smile
There was my family,
faces wet from crying
saying that you were leaving
you could barely speak the words
they were so big
they choked your throat
the truth
you never thought you'd have to speak
the frames of every picture; shattered
and I walked across the glass; barefooted
without a care
My mind wandered with questions;
what will it be like?
where will me, mom and sister go?
who will I go with?
who will sister go with?
where will you move to?
That summer was the strangest summer
my sister had two birthday parties
I was jealous
and at her communion
your mother refused to hug mine
a sucker punch from the world's strongest man
You came home; tried to fix things
nobody was optimistic
the fights before school
left happiness and any sense of optimism;
that a 13 year old boy should have,
in dreams
it finally sunk in
when we looked for new places to live
I was happy on the outside
(I think thats when I started to develop my think shell)
but my mind was still cluttered with questions;
will you be okay?
will we be okay?
will things be okay?
what
is
okay?
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 8:36 AM UTC
Away from the white Stork feathers
Often seemed to be gentle breeze
On Kans grasses
Superficial white clouds
Small dinghies on the river
To navigate the life
Far away on the bridge
The Silent movement of the Brahminy kite
Southern breeze blew
Tilting the tall grasses toward the North
Leak of the light fell into the Kans,
Into the Soft green grasses
Sunlit mingled with light fog
Seek heavenly feeling
Without the knowledge
The lips Stir of
Walking beside the river
Barefooted
In the air Kestrel's mystic music
The river running with full of chime
What are the forms of you!
Thee bind me with deception!
What a Strange tune!
What those thirsty words!
So that I draw your image
Moving away from the shadows
Soft light blended with the estuary
Away,
Little by little,
To see your face
Like the rig of Ship
Behind the path
A magical dream
Seems like a White Shirt
That I had left in the Kans grasses
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
1. Go on a scary ride 10 times in a row.
2. Go Skydiving.
3.Make a time capsule.
4.Spend 1 day without talking.
5.Say yes to everything for a day (expect if it is: harmful, embarrassing...).
6.Face my fears.
7.Learn how to drive a car.
8.Go camping for a week (with friends).
9.Go without TV for a month.
10.Donate blood.
11.Walk around barefooted for a day (SolesforSouls).
12.Dress like a hobo for two days.
13.Drink 100 cups of coffee (& stay up all night).
14.Take a picture of a jellyfish.
15.Change my style.
16. Read 10 classic books in a 2 days.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
(monsoon moments 1)
The lively colors of summer have faded
Blazing May afternoons have ended,
Clear skies are now ash-blue, sometimes blae
Blooming with soggy grayish ***** of cotton,
Ever ready to burst with crystal drops...
Monsoon winds blow.......then rain follows
Big, heavy, noisy raindrops hit the roof,
They pour longer........inundate the streets
Making them impassable.......................but
I'm raring to be out there when it falls,
Let its cold touch, give me goose bumps...
And waken every nerve in me...
Let it wash away the heat and humidity from my body
Let its steady flow, drench my short hair, flat to my skull,
Let it compress my long-running indecision: do I, or do I not?
I'd wait for all these to slide down and join the wet ground
For, I want to walk around....soaking wet, and barefooted,
Feel the grass.......subservient to the downpour
I want to dip and wiggle my toes in the softened soil,
'til floodwater reaches my ankle
'til I'm one with earth and water
And then I...
Would feel unburdened,
When I come in
From the rain...
Sally
Copyright June 9, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 9:46 PM UTC
An old town that escapes the reality of today.
I'd trade anything to see it in all of its glory.
No cell phones, everyone smiling and waving.
Everything peaceful and happy.
The sun peeking through the pine trees.
Do you hear the mockingbird's song?
The summers are hot and humid,
the creaks are filled with crawfish,
The banks filled with frogs and
Us playing cowboys and Indians.
A summer love and
A Mason jar of cold sweet tea.
"Thank you Mrs. Maybell!"
We giggle and run to our hiding place near the oak trees.
"Tag your it!"
We all scurry barefooted through the woods.
Screams, shouts.
We forgot how we are still here,
In the same town over taken by the sounds of silence.
You may think this story is over;
The truth is, it’s only just begun.
"Back when I was a child"
maybe seem boring to some,
but if you listen-
You may be surprised how you will want to go back
to a time when we could play near the creaks
and pay five cents for a coke.
Life was simpler back then,
Back when;
This town was small and simple,
but it was home.
And always will be.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC
An unimaginative girl in high heeled shoes
That pinched her toes like a metaphor
Of painful societal beauty
Once asked me a silly question:
"Why do you wear such horribly huge pants?"
Well my dear,
If I buy sweatpants big enough to swim in,
And I let them slip under my barefooted heels
To become a part of me,
I am the mermaid of my dreams.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC