"pedicured" poems
There is an immensity of life between us
in the cracks of the tar lining the streets of the new and the up and coming
in the cement foundations of pieces of history torn down to make way for condos
in the luxury of the innocent
in the opulence of the well versed
(I was never brilliant or oblivious but I understood the weight of it still)
and still
there is life here
in the filthy river water we use to cleanse ourselves of modern day idealism
in the pedicured grass of the only wild space left in the city
in the eyes of the people who go unnoticed for years
in the hands of the business men devastating and deciding the price of our humanity
we swarm
we collect
we nest in this hive
we levitate and gravitate towards new heights and new highs
vowing to go up and over up and over until we revert back to the way we once were
nostalgia
a pretty word for dissatisfaction
tearing down walls only to romanticize their restriction ten years later
we build up to break down to reenforce what we already know
but yet there is a beyond
and yet still there is more
still there is life in the existential
still there in the thoughts between sleep and waking
still between the jump and the fall
still
and even still you take your forearm and run it along the curve of the earth surrounding this city
this coal eating monster washed with the dreams of a thousand drunkards looking for some other body to call home
and we call it home
with the austere buildings and mirror images reflecting bricks and soot
reflecting breath and sighs
reflecting life and death
and between it all
there is so much life
yes between us
there is an immensity of life.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
fine Furhman's Funeral Home
used the best alchemy money could
buy, to keep her flesh fresh
and a master seamstress
sewed her wicked wounds so not
a single soul could see
she was stabbed forty times
from her rubicund cheeks to her
pedicured toes
Furhman's was the best, above
the mediocre rest, in gifting mourners
with a pleasant view
when I got their bill in the mail
it had an itemized list, which included
a charge I had to contest
not because of penury or pettiness
for I am a wealthy weeping father, but
I couldn't see spending a red dime
for crimson polish they painted
on dead toes, slid in slick hose, and
hid in patent leather shoes
my wife said write a check for the
full amount, crying this was not about
what we the living could yet see
Baton Rouge, April, 1989
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 11:48 PM UTC
You understand the cycle of generational trauma, birthed from hurt to cause drama
You understand communication styles that dip their pedicured toes into ***** waters
You understand the impact of microaggression and discontentment
But you don't know what love is
The examples you had only you taught you how to be toxic
Birthed patterns within me that restrict me
Anxiety reaching new heights as we reach the peak
Sleeping with you closer to me in cause a sudden dream prompts you to leave
If you love something set it free but what if you don't return to me
Emptiness I would feel because I never knew what love was
Until it was too real and I let my fears dismantle what would've been soulmate love.
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 9:35 PM UTC
A woman at the height of ******
This is where the poem comes to a howl
suddenly, the poet hold his breath
He remembered a time long ago
When her well pedicured feet caught his eyes
and not her mind: that fetish duck..
She could have let him touch up her pedicure
Instead of playing with her heart strings
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 11:36 AM UTC
A pure treasure since she was born,
Deserving to be delicately placed on velveteen pillows.
Looks like that are lusted after
Like line after line of ******* in an upscale bathroom.
But all the pretty girls are like that.
Their red lipstick and lacy lingerie,
Cocktail dresses and long legs.
Swift movements and carefully crafted bones.
They feel their beauty really sink in with a needle full of ******
and a high that knocks them off their perfectly pedicured feet.
My God, they are so lucky.
All the pretty girls do drugs.
And all the pretty girls get high.
All the pretty girls smile and wave in their size zero glory.
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
I am a woman
But there's no need
For me
To roar
You can see
The very essence of me
As soon as my pedicured toes
Hit the floor
From the gloss on my lips
Down to my painted fingertips
You can see
That I am very much so
A woman
Not to mention
The glide in my walk
The femininity that flows from my lips
Whenever I talk
Take once glance at me
And you can surely see
That I am indeed
A woman
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 7:37 PM UTC
Posted for my mad buddy who I swear has peed reading it. If you think it doesn't fit here. Don't read it I guess.
Cindersfellas
When Cinderella lost her shoe, the Prince did all that he could do!
Night and day he gave his all to re unite it with her smelly sole
So many that he tried it upon, yet none could hold the slipper on.
To fat to thin or athlete's foot and what a stink he had to sniff up
But as he thought his quest was fraught, a delicate foot he came upon
Pedicured and delicate, all his foot ferishes desired!
Like fingers into a silken glove, her tootsies slid into its glass a perfect fit he's found his wife
All ended well her sisters thrashed and cinders got the Princes heart
She also got the princes cash, his castle horses cars and thrones, all the maid had dreamed upon.
That as Disney is same in life, when you marry a gold digging *****
But.. Cinders is simply just a tale to make kids think that lifes a rainbow
With unicorns an Bambis too with multi coloured marshmallow poos
It ain't that or nothing near, because there ain't no Prince or footwear here!
Often a fool who does there part to show their love to another's heart
Yet used and abused and taken for granted, often hit and always shouting
Ringin bells? And not in church? You're a victim of the Disney curse!!
You ain't Snow white more like the prisoner, locked inside a nightmare before Christmas
No glass slippers no carriage either, all they sold you is wedding fever!!
So be your own Princess or Prince or knave or whatever else you think
Your life, your choice your one and only
Don't waste it with unworthy causes.
For in the end you're a long time dead
Don't let them **** you inside as well
Your heart beats and it beats for you
Sometimes in time with another's too
So there you have it, all that is
No glass slipper no magical dream
But if you think the one for you
is out there in lifes foggy world
You may be right and find them there
I hope it's all that you deserve
But remember now just these things.
Cinders never got a ring !
Maybe Shrek was not a Prince
But Fiona didn't get beaten up
Feb 11, 2017
Feb 11, 2017 at 3:01 PM UTC
I want you but then I don't
I Love you but then I.......
Wont lie
I'll never stop loving you
Not even when I "stop" loving you
A garboil frenzy stirred up in me
From our first encounter
You shot my guarded with ten feet brick walls heart down
Exposed me to something new
The more nights I spent on the phone with you
The more my feelings grew
Don't let me physically see you
That's a different story all on its own!
One deserving its own poem.
Hey, I'm just being honest
We're all grown!
But anyway
You've got me swaying to your beat with your harmonious words and graceful flow
Dazed and paralyzed from my curly haired head to my pedicured toes
With this infatuation for you
Wait nah, even though this is new
I know it's more then pash puppy love
This is real
We are real
No matter how many times I push away
My feelings will never budge, or stray.
We're not together yet and that's fine
Cause you don't know it yet
But you're already mine.
My days are focused with serving Jehovah with my whole heart and ability
The end of this system is coming fast
So i make sure to walk in the right path
Continuing to always please him in his eyes
But Jehovah knows my other inner desires
He knows how I want to share my days with a lifelong partner
Title me passion *****
Love burns my fire
We were built with abounding emotions
A longing to share our tender affections with another person
And I'm no different, almost ready for that serious commitment
To share my world with an outstanding christian witness
You fit that description..
So with his blessings my dream will come true
And with his blessings that person will
One day be you
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 10:18 AM UTC
Unchristened,
I circle the sun
Clutching books of darkness.
Each page, a starless night,
A devil's duel for the soul.
An orphaned *****
Shackles my ****** thoughts
And to her drums
I beat.
Lust stomping feet
Of pleasure and song,
Of treasures sunk
Betwixt a finger and thumb.
I turn the page
Engaged,
I turn another
To find a willing centerfold.
Pedicured pink on toes
Flung high
In steel stilettos,
A feast for hungry eyes.
The mind grieves
Spilling guilt like leaves
Onto a passing cloud.
A boy
Perchance a girl
The world shall never know.
Like stars unborn,
They whisper
In the wind.
~ P
(#LeavesUponAPassingCloud)
6/7/2014
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC
Unsightly is a word that the dictionary defines disgraceful or unpleasant to look at or in other words just plan ugly. When the one you love calls part of you unsightly. It can leave the deepest cut in your heart. I never really noticed the moles until he pointed them out. Now that's all I see when I look in the mirror, that's all I see when I take a shower. I even start to count them as time goes on...1..2...3..4..The more I count the louder I hear the word unsightly with every number I repeat it in my head 10...11..12... WHY WOULD THE MAN I LOVE call me a cleaned up word of ugly? I thought he was suppose to see every single part of me as beautiful from the tips of my un pedicured toes to the top of my un combed hair. And with a smile he was suppose to say you are so beautiful. "I didn't mean it like that" he says. "I thought you wanted to get them removed" he would utter. Every time he would try to back peddle on the word he spoke to me the knife would dig deeper. NO you want me to get them removed because they make you uncomfortable. You wanted me to get them removed because you hated to look at them. But don't worry about it anymore. This face, these eyes, this body, my smile, this skin, these moles. Is something you no longer have to feel uncomfortable looking at. I will find someone that will love every single blemish on my body and more then you ever did. But you did leave me thinking how could I love someone who's heart was so unsightly.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
Who are you to judge that which doesn't concern you?
Are you trying trying to plant your pedicured feet in tattered sneakers
or is it a twisted satisfaction your mind eagerly propels through?
A desire so sickening of emotional magnitude, you might as well
use your dainty fingers to reopen a freshly sewed knife wound.
Oh, that's not what you "meant" to do? It's not I you have to tell.
Continue to play the innocent card, it's what you do best;
An Ace you can't seem to stress, giving protection like a bullet-proof vest,
whereas the downtrodden can't fathom to use their resources
to unleash a slugfest you oh so request.
Ultimately, it's an oppression of border-line obsession
that conveys a weakness infesting your malignant mind.
What audacity must you have to belittle those who are persecuted;
mistreated by society and suppressed by privileged voices.
You must truly be afraid of Outcasts if you require silence
for their songs and melodies seek inner harmony and bliss.
It is these traits that are a forgotten treasure in the eyes of the entitled,
for they'll dismiss and deny its existence since it actually requires hard work
We've been beaten and bruised, disappointed and disheartened,
but we as outcasts will continue to remain defiant to your sinister pestilence.
We have a fire in our hearts that burns the brightest amongst the darkest of skies,
and that is something your fragile heart will never be blessed with.
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 11:17 PM UTC
And I have seen paradise before
It was a heaven of ideological
proportions
located
on the junction
of childhood and interstates
of man and youth, with marble floors
and distant speakers echoing drops off of
cell phone booths
and older people
selling things for us to buy
to find ourselves happy in the moment
deep cascading waterfalls
Is this heaven?
When a child it's all you see
the white and pedicured purity
of a waxed granite floor,
the impersonal monotony
feeling a soul in a world unknown
the closest thing to dreaming
Old T.Vs selling like hotcakes
buy it while it's new!
Gameboy games, pokemon on the tele
silent in the face of some strange musician
playing unworded tunes you'll recognize later
their focus-grouped chords left somewhere in your mind
for you to hum when bored
Everything was perfect, then?
was it?
Those same malls don't sparkle
no more
maybe it's just the grime of life
blocking the mirrored measure of my childhood soul
lost amidst the echoes
the sweet music of truth
bouncing off of the uncolored walls
a send-off of my youth
Maybe when we go back, one day
the walls won't be quite so grey
they'll be power-washed with light,
shine better than ever before,
nothing to buy but our happiness
somewhere in those hallowed halls
searching those windows into other lives
hoping to find the key to our soul
to leave this silly Sphere and
Roebuck
our boat back out the sliding door
-windows
back out into the real world,
no longer dreaming.
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC