"shoemaker" poems
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear;
Those of mechanics—each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong;
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work;
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat—the deckhand singing
on the steamboat deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench—the hatter singing
as he stands;
The wood-cutter’s song—the ploughboy’s, on his way in the morning,
or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the mother—or of the young wife at work—
or of the girl sewing or washing—Each singing what belongs to her,
and to none else;
The day what belongs to the day—At night, the party of young fellows,
robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs.
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#1-- Legacy
This city was my ancestors' town.
We have laid tar on your horse-paths-
a university grew from Riverview roots-
you chopped firewood from the
great-great grandfathers
of these trees.
#2-- saint cloud sounds like
midnight, shoemaker: haunted cries.
munsinger's melody: scurries & chirps.
when TNT shatters granite at the quarry.
pucks' percussion at the brooks center.
buzz of summers on lake george's shore.
somalia & scandinavia, singing.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 1:16 AM UTC
I still dream of you late at night.
I dream of your silky black hair and your big brown eyes and for the night all seems right.
I wake up only to not find you there. It's not fair.
I miss you and we both know I still love you.
I often wonder where we went wrong
I Still listen to all of our songs. I listen to every second.
Every second, every tear that falls is just happy filler to that fills my day that's all.
If I had a time machine I'd travel back and try my hardest to make it all right,
but for now I will settle for you in my dreams even if it's just for the night.
~D.P. Shoemaker
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
The bright city lights remind me of the nights we spent so young
The fall air reminds me of the days we spent cheek to tongue
The memories take the life out of me and the man I wanna be
If I could I would let it all go, I would
But my heart just brings me back to the day when I begged you to stay but there you stood...
~ D.P. Shoemaker
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 6:06 AM UTC
I SAW a telegram handed a two hundred pound man at a desk. And the little scrap of paper charged the air like a set of crystals in a chemist's tube to a whispering pinch of salt.
Cross my heart, the two hundred pound man had just cracked a joke about a new hat he got his wife, when the messenger boy slipped in and asked him to sign. He gave the boy a nickel, tore the envelope and read.
Then he yelled "Good God," jumped for his hat and raincoat, ran for the elevator and took a taxi to a railroad depot.
As I say, it was like a set of crystals in a chemist's tube and a whispering pinch of salt.
I wonder what Diogenes who lived in a tub in the sun would have commented on the affair.
I know a shoemaker who works in a cellar slamming half-soles onto shoes, and when I told him, he said: "I pay my bills, I love my wife, and I am not afraid of anybody."
2.2k
A shoemaker toiled each day to provide for himself
From dusk until dawn, leather was washed and cut, laced and stained
The living room was stacked with books, found, bought, or stolen
The kitchen supplied with only some fruit, vegetables, and a few loaves of bread
The town was healthy, and run well
The neighborhoods were peaceful, but not without trouble
A widow and son were watched over and provided for
But the loyal cobbler received not even a wave
In desperation, the shoemaker returned to his work
For that is all a man can do
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 3:15 AM UTC
Daisy *** patchwork dress, lalala
I baked you cherry pie while you chatted a wizard
hope it kept warm in the oven.
Dear, the contents partner our cheeks
a good-natured face, freckled of breadcrumbs at
each of six circadian meals to come by day.
Everything is rosy in this hobbit hole –
flowers, and mouths, and food laugh all in sync.
I reckon when you digest
we shall scamper off to our twin bed.
Lalala I sing, and lalala you sing, raccoons are so
close above the wooden beams
that I know their supper is dandelion stalks.
Tucked in, this is what is christened a perfect fit
your foot the extent of my head
and kissing at my toes, their lady stubble.
(You, the skilled shoemaker
who will not tolerate me hiding in pelt moccasins)
If the moon arises, we do not see:
lalala, mockingbirds sing the garden to sleep
but the vegetation dances
like a dwarf’s beard, though blonde somehow
saturating ginger for a reading nightlight
bellies full of sweet cakes and dinner number four.
You kiss me our Eskimo way, then as halflings
I whisper about the ariel orchard today
(Rosemary, red-cheeks, lalala) afore first breakfast.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
The rain falls the same and that black cloud that follows me around never seems to white. The sun beyond the sky never seems to shine just like these words line after line.
I Pretend like everything is the same so the ones we love don't see the pain.
I'm surrounded by these four white washed walls
tears filled up to the rim
The bright light that used to reside inside my soul has grown dim.
I'd break this world in half just to see you again
I would then take the broken pieces douse them in gasoline and strike the match if it meant I would get to see your smile again, but I know that won't happen
I just can't win.
The fog still lingers the same and the cold that follows me around never seems to warm. The sun never seems to rise just like my words written here hidden behind the lies line after line.
I don't feel alive something inside me has died
I said I was fine but I lied. I'm just an empty shell of a man that I used to be.
Why did the universe take you away from me?
I don't feel alive. It feels like everything inside me has died.
I'm just a broken record skipping between verses and choruses
The rain still falls the same even more so when I hear your name.
I can't come alive everything inside me has died.
I'd smile but it would just be a lie.
~ D.P. Shoemaker
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC
How could the mountains
forget
the ground beneath them
or the clouds deny
the sky
we bear this mark
this Galactic conception
and yet
we become fictional
a small etch
of understanding
nonexistent sketch
in the dredge pituitary
a one
dimensional edge
we watch like
a picture
show
existentialist
and it's fiery
seed
shooting it's
burning flames into
the black womb
soon to die
or birth a moon,
the candle is the soul
it is intent
that keeps it lit,
it is our lack of
immaculate
perception
that pulls it apart
Roche's limit
yearning
to string pearls
around heavenly
bodies
as
charisma reaches
to embrace
a burning,
and I see fire.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
It was a four horse race at
Santa Anita.
I was with my old man and
little brother.
I put everything I had on
the number 3 horse to show.
His name was Dusty's Diaper.
Shoemaker was aboard;
the shoe for God's sake.
It was a sure thing.
All he had to do, was not
come in fourth place.
I learned that day,
in a horse race,
anything can happen.
I was 12 years old.
And like horse racing,
In life, anything can
happen.
Amidst the California evening,
On our way to the car,
I thought my Dad
Would live forever.
Apr 8, 2023
Apr 8, 2023 at 7:28 PM UTC
WORMS
Hello! Chester here… Missing you so,
A bookworm am I,
Oh, yesss, today just sliding by…
With spectacles on my nose,
I do both poetry and prose.
Want to hear more about me …
And my family…?
So awfully lovely to see you again,
Perhaps a few secrets for you, my friend?
Plump cousins I have in the strangest places,
On blue Stilton cheese are not only their faces…
There’s even a cousin with a thousand little feet…
The shoemaker thinks he’s a treat.
Mostly here somewhere, we always share…
And war seen so many times before,
Just like greedy maggots, ended battles we do adore,
And there is even more…
Not a treat, some worms you never want to meet,
A part of the family is really mean,
Trust me, they're the worst worms you’ve ever seen,
For those eat dead people really clean!
Others just eat wood and all they ever could.
And don’t let me start,
With Mr. Snooks… worming into Miss Prissy’s heart!
Once there was even a tapeworm from a whale,
100 feet long, both sexes… He and She were for sale!
Just like people… large, short, skinny or hairy,
Some worms fancy meat or plants… others dairy.
Seeing ample aggravation… there was an invitation…
And all I have to say today… Now on my way…
To the cemetery without delay,
But I’ll be back, Sweetheart… Someday...
Copyright©2013 Kari M. Knutsen
.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 7:41 PM UTC
Being 16 and free,
living on the sailboat
with my Dad and brother.
I was rocked to sleep
by the gentle
waves in the marina.
Just being...the wonderful
verb of youth,
Bills came in,
Dad would say, "They can **** us,
but they can't eat us."
We'd laugh and peel
up the Pacific coast Highway
to the track,
Hollywood Park or Santa Anita,
to bet on the horses.
We'd dope the racing form;
Get chili dogs.
Dad would give us
money to bet with.
I saw some of the
best horses ever:
Secretariat
Affirmed
John Henry
Bates Motel
We saw the greatest jockeys too.
William Shoemaker
Liffit Pincay
Eddie D.
Our tiny heroes.
The thunder of the
hooves coming down the
homestretch still echoes
inside of me.
Dad always said, "winners buy dinner, "
but he always paid.
We stopped at this
steak place on the
edge of L.A.
It was dark; they had the best
Fillet Mignon, you cut it
with a spoon.
The sun sank into the blazing
ocean, and with the windows rolled
down, we could taste the salt
in the air.
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 9:53 AM UTC
This morning I received
air mail letter three
from my connection overseas.
I pulled the paper back,
you begin your attack and it reads:
Of all the places I laid down my head,
I think of two I regret
Love isn’t easy my baby
Is sayin' today
But tell Mr. shoemaker I’ll be away
On a rocket or a comet
or the dock of the bay
On a continental steam ship
sailin' away
On a one way ticket
on a 1st class airplane
I wanna know
what you’re thinkin' about
Don’t just let me go
Four hundred days have passed since I’ve heard from you last
I’m getting worried, I admit
Maybe it’s nothing much
There’s nicer shores in sight
Oh I just don’t know
Of all the places I laid down my head
I think of two I regret
Love isn’t easy my baby
will tell you today
But tell Mr. shoemaker I’ll be away
On a rocket or a comet
or the dock of the bay
On a continental steam ship
sailin' away
On a one way ticket
on a 1st class airplane
I wanna know
what you’re thinkin' about
Don’t just let me go
I’m sayin' so long
I want my baby back
I know it’s hard to see
Why she’s in love with me
I’m sayin' so long
I want my baby back
I know it’s hard to see
Why she’s in love with me
So long to the headstrong
I wasn’t qualified
to lead that city life
That’s all I have to say
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 8:01 PM UTC
I watch
As each man comes to play a roll
In shoes he cannot fit
And after he gives it his all
I come to stitch seems where
He left you ripped torn and alone
But I am only the tailor
And you are the damsel.
This fairytale wasn't made
For the shoemaker
But the shoe was.
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
I long for sleep but it’s not a fan of me,
I never drift too deep, and it doesn’t come easily.
And though my bed is far from cold,
my restless head is searching for gold;
wish I could accept silver gracefully.
Oh tired eyes; you’ve gotten so heavy
and the sired lies is the shoe maker levy.
I hope for a solar storm to embrace me
to keep me warm and displace me.
The midnight sky threw on it’s best set of stars,
and yet here am I looking for Jupiter and Mars.
I start watching two satellites dance,
like in the past with you and I in some type of trance,
always in each others orbit but too fast, too far.
Oh tired eyes; you’ve gotten so heavy
and the sired lies is the shoe maker levy.
I hope for a solar storm to embrace me
to keep me warm and displace me.
Oh tired eyes; you’ve gotten so heavy
it’s no surprise when comes the shoemaker levy.
I hope for a solar storm to embrace me
none left to mourn, or to replace me.
The moon gave me such a passionate kiss
that turned from open handed to a closed fist.
Still I gave it my gratitude that the very least it wasn’t rude,
it always kept on shining even in the mist.
The midnight sky threw on it’s best set of stars,
left me reading between the lines and trapped between the bars.
Take oath with a cosmic creed, a praise I’d give anything to sing,
I’ll follow if you would lead me to Saturn’s ring.
Oh tired eyes; you’ve gotten so heavy
and the sired lies is the shoe maker levy.
I hope for a solar storm to embrace me
to keep me warm and displace me.
Waiting for gravity to come hold me down
don’t be mad at me if I can’t stay around.
The perfect home the shoe maker levy found,
thank god it wasn’t on our ground or within our town.
Sometimes I travel just like sound,
but to the sky I’m bound.
I hope for a solar storm to embrace me
none left to mourn, or to replace me.
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 10:51 AM UTC
My people,
Deprive not your eyes of it's sight
That we see the flames, dancing on our huts
Like a stripper in a club night
For here we are, bleeding without a cut
.
Listen people!
That we may ear the roaring laugter
Of the big boys at our own handed damnation
For the shame is sweet and our tongue compromised
We are pathetic, yet, we call ourselves a nation
.
My people,
The seed we planted, has grown branches
The calamity we dreamt of has stopped by, to say "hello"
Corruption and his brothers seem to have come to stay
The big ones laugter grows more as we fight this flame with fire
.
Sons of a shoemaker,
Walking barefooted in the woods
May Heavens come to our rescue,
For our shadows has come to hunt us
And our herbalist has no clue how to make the concoction to heal our insanity.
.
Balogun David Tolulope
{drunk poet}
©️2017
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 3:25 PM UTC
A large Alsatian barks at a passerby stranger
as the pond geese honk sensing grave danger
Trudges back home a rangy lone ranger.
Big and little aubergines cast a purple shade
In the twilight birdsong begins to fade
Night makes navy-blue of the greenery's jade.
Wolves howl in the distance
Panthers prowl near pig pens
Ocelots growl around the dens.
Dolphins perform in the aquatic circus
Kids count on the time-old abacus
All in all the miracle of creation's fabulous
Elsewhere the morn dawns upon wee ladybirds
And shepherds go about grazing their hungry herds.
A rare sight of starfishes settle upon beach pebbles
Pink salmon in a see-through lake breath out bubbles
Bombed by tech; corpses found in debris and rubbles!
Wild species lurk in the murky forest
Stands tall and hovering high mount Everest
A chance to enjoy nature at its very best!
Admit it O' mankind no one can ever be
at par with your and my versatile Creator
The billions of species is far too extraordinary
He single-handedly created all that variety in nature.
For even the clever human who invented the radio
did not as well model the computer.
The one who designed my dresser couldn't design my patio
It'd be rare for a shoemaker to also be a tutor
But God He made both ant and elephant
and there's absolutely nothing that He can't.
Mar 10, 2020
Mar 10, 2020 at 2:48 AM UTC
give me
the gift
of sorrow
the strongman’s
pencil
-
in the purgatory
of spaced out
animals, ****
on the short
straw
-
tell me I’m not surrounded
-
show to my brother
youtube videos
of our mother
sleeping
on her father’s
back
-
say something in my sister’s mouth
-
scrub me
from the shoemaker’s dream
with a rock
the rock
I deserve
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 10:19 PM UTC
I cried,
At the shoe shop all the shoes I tried,
Would not fit me
Mom said"Let it be."
Mom took me to the shoemaker,
She said,"Please make a pair of shoes for this dapper."
Yes ma'am, in a day or two,
By then we will have the leather too.
To school I reported sick,
My new shoes came within a week,
They were durable and dependable,
Cushioned and fashionable.
I felt proud and fine,
Everyone in school loved the design
I could jog,run and walk miles,
Without a hitch,all smiles,
In your life,comfortable shoes,
Removes all the blues,
Dad too,wants a custom made pair,
More wear,less tear.
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 4:08 PM UTC