"insoles" poems
By this evolution I can see no harm
Budding into life
A lotus flower by creation
Through the moon forces existing
Persisting a volume to abide
Belief in love
Natural in all
Whom the seed
Expands and insoles
Us without withdrawal
The veil to the ocean
Waves tide eternally
Without commotion
For unto you I gaze
Upon and see the stars of
Night ignite you smile
Teeth glisten in moonlight
The chain within expands
Throughout
The vibration consumes
Those dancing beneath the
Budding flowers of
Eternal sunshine
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
1,000 quid shoes
well, 500 each
foot
sprayed with decay
your body couldn't take.
They couldn't hold much
the stained satin strained
so red soles and insoles
tainted a shade more abject;
Glut.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 1:47 PM UTC
Starry-eyed, I peeked at you through the shop window
The salesman’s toothy smile was nothing to your new-polished glow.
Your fake leather belts and stiff rubber soles
Made me dream of journeys sans mud, debris, and potholes.
The salesman whispered the ‘discounted rate’ delicately into my ears,
I glanced down at my slender wallet and blinked back my tears.
My feet slid into your gentle folds, a warrior coming home,
I was fifty short but in your embrace, the world I wished to roam.
Your beauty was unsurpassed, though the insoles did itch,
And your buckles gleamed like fairy dust, when the toe-cap pulled a stitch.
You helped me traverse wet sand heaps on under-construction roads
You stood with me on the roller-coaster of rush-hour public transport.
You were with me through the muddy puddles, of early monsoon
Caked with dirt, you stayed alert, through alleys litter-strewn.
You held me in your hard embrace on broken footpaths
Helped me slink through curfew gates not even the cat could surpass.
And I should have known, you were too good for this town
My fake leather sandals with the rubber soles of brown.
As I hung off the bottom step of the spasmodic minibus
Beneath me the buckles ripped, the outsoles gave up.
And I know that over the months, we’ve had our fights
And I’ve said more than once that you were overpriced.
Though it’s true that I think you could have done with a discount
Never let them tell you, our bond wasn’t profound.
All my neighbors know of your tales of valor
What you lacked in durability, you made up for in glamor.
So what if the heels were rickety and the insoles tickled?
The road to affordable beauty with potholes is riddled!
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 2:36 AM UTC
If you are advocating
The eliminating of humans
Assuming they are less
Than the mess you are, then
You are, by far, among the worst,
The first level of devils living
And I am giving you the name
And the blame for the horror
And am all the sorer that you
Insist I must take it silently
While you slice them, bleeding,
Leading them into the jail
Wailing, calling them names
Then maiming, beating and killing
Even when willing, and agree
To cooperate in your travesty.
In your majesty, you feel you
Are the one true and decent
And as they are your victims
Inherit all the ills that go with them;
Your prisoners that you call ********
And beat their insoles and bare feet,
Drag them off the streets for being poor,
Call the women ****** and trash,
Smash them around and then you
Say they fell down, and your boss agrees
When the prisoner’s knees are broken.
Just another token of how awful
And how stinking terrible they are
Those without cars, or jobs, or houses.
Just human louses in stained blouses
And raggedy clothes. Break their nose.
Nobody cares about them.
You are real men, they are not.
They get what they deserve.
“To protect and serve.”
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 2:15 AM UTC
When you analyse this rhyme
Trying to find any holes
You'll be left a silent mime
With a case of the Dr. Scholl's Insoles
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 2:55 AM UTC
these thoughts careen,
slicing like slick sheets of ice
screeching with a spare of strife,
a wiping gesture and a breath of air
sprays of cold grey
and cascading slivers
of doubt,
of a gnawing sensation
leeching the warmth
from the lining in my stomach
watch the weather pass, the
clouds sailing, unfurling with direction
round and round with the wind
thinking with purple bruising
and shocks of lightning,
I feel the rubber insoles
pounding the pavement,
crunching over gravel,
sinking into dewy grass
my mind unwinds like film
my thoughts fly
would I ever know
where to go
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC