Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"sockless" poems
Beneath the couch today I found one of your toenails. It reminded me of the way your toes once scratched against mine and I was disgusted because I thought those things resembled rotten carrots mixed with the stuff I've seen come out of my cat. It reminded me of the way your hand once brushed mine and I looked down to see those meaty sausage fingers carrying on in their meaty sausage way by spreading grease and filth and must and finger dirt all over my nice white sleeve. And then it reminded me of the way I couldn't stand your yellowed teeth because I knew you didn't like coffee and that your only excuse was not brushing. So I looked deeply into that aged toenail found beneath my couch and amongst some dust beneath my couch where you sat that once and I thought this toenail was a portrait of you, hidden below my couch like the Mona Lisa's missing eyebrows. But I left that toenail beneath my couch where it fell the night you took your socks off to show me your tattoo, the night you kissed me with no socks on, the night I tasted rebellion in a sockless kiss with yellowed teeth and sausage fingers in my hair. Because I stuffed that kiss beneath the couch too and let it break apart from my foot-life like a carrot toenail. But that toenail leads me to think that your sausage hands were pretty soft; that you probably would have liked coffee if you knew I drank it and then that you were always a working man; those fingers were proof of a hard day's labour. So the night you took your socks off for me, could be tonight again and I'd have the guilty happiness in your sweaty palms I missed before, then I'd be perfectly okay when pieces of you shed onto my carpet. But I don't regret the toenail beneath the couch because at least it's there.
0
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
The Toenail Kiss
Beneath the couch today I found one of your toenails. It reminded me of the way your toes once scratched against mine and I was disgusted because I thought those things resembled rotten carrots mixed with the stuff I've seen come out of my cat. It reminded me of the way your hand once brushed mine and I looked down to see those meaty sausage fingers carrying on in their meaty sausage way by spreading grease and filth and must and finger dirt all over my nice white sleeve. And then it reminded me of the way I couldn't stand your yellowed teeth because I knew you didn't like coffee and that your only excuse was not brushing. So I looked deeply into that aged toenail found beneath my couch and amongst some dust beneath my couch where you sat that once and I thought this toenail was a portrait of you, hidden below my couch like the Mona Lisa's missing eyebrows. But I left that toenail beneath my couch where it fell the night you took your socks off to show me your tattoo, the night you kissed me with no socks on, the night I tasted rebellion in a sockless kiss with yellowed teeth and sausage fingers in my hair. Because I stuffed that kiss beneath the couch too and let it break apart from my foot-life like a carrot toenail. But that toenail leads me to think that your sausage hands were pretty soft; that you probably would have liked coffee if you knew I drank it and then that you were always a working man; those fingers were proof of a hard day's labour. So the night you took your socks off for me, could be tonight again and I'd have the guilty happiness in your sweaty palms I missed before, then I'd be perfectly okay when pieces of you shed onto my carpet. But I don't regret the toenail beneath the couch because at least it's there.
Continue reading...
33
With a flap of pink-flamingo wings, whoosh of speedboats in the bay the rear-swinging amble of burnished girls in bikinis “Miami Vice” launched itself week after week as a thoroughly ****** delight. The show: a pop-culture event the media poetry of the ******* era. Two cocky not very talented male beauties who spoke in innuendos and dressed in pink T-shirts Armani and sockless loafers. The best episodes were shot and cut like movies and glowed with neon and pastels and party lights in stucco mansions. The varieties of pleasure under an endless American sun. (From the New Yorker article entitled, “Hot and Bothered.”)
0
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
Under the American Sun (a "found" poem)
I swear I can hear the clear sound of record static Like snow falling loudly and quietly upon the mic puff I can also hear the lights and electricity ringing Like a group of lost hikers found dead in the snow in socks The neighbors upstairs make knocking sounds at 3am from another dimension
0
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 3:14 AM UTC
sockless hikers
I asked for peace. Life gave me silence, disconnection— and nothing to scroll away the discomfort. Canceled plans, one painfully awkward dinner with my parents. (Spoiler: it worked.) I prayed for strength. Life handed me spilled coffee, a broken umbrella, and a boss who emails at 12:01 AM. Turns out—I flinch less now. (Okay, maybe once.) I begged for purpose. Life said: “Laundry.” Endless, sockless, mismatched piles. I folded. Then cried. Then wrote a poem about it. Now it’s framed in someone’s guest bathroom— right above the toilet paper, which feels oddly correct. I wanted blessings. Expected glitter. Got bills, back pain, and unsolicited advice from my aunt who sells protein powder. (Still, her hug saved me once.) Turns out, blessings are quiet. Struggles don’t wear signs. And sometimes, growth is just showing up— with tired eyes, mismatched socks, and a heart that’s tired, but still says, “again.”
0
Sep 8, 2025
Sep 8, 2025 at 1:01 PM UTC
"Apparently, This Is Growth"
This is an ode to that bloke over there, You see him? Glasses, very little hair. Hunched over black coffee, holding it to a stare. From his right hand hangs a spoon, giving it a stir. A crumpled suit flecked with dirt hangs loose here and there. He wears a yellowed shirt untucked and scuffed shoes a pair. From his sockless ankles peek heels bare, While he sits, head down, dispair. He saved my life today that bloke over there, I feel inclined to tell him but I doubt he’d really care.
0
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 7:28 AM UTC
Ode to That Bloke Over There
Don't you find Christmas a little askew in its purpose? We remember a man who, born on this day, walked the Earth some two thousand years ago                    By burning pockets with gift giving,        Decorating a door frame with a $70 wreath which will die in two weeks,            Stuffing our faces with high fructose desserts and fat filled ham    Competing for the brightest tree (also going to die in two weeks) and the loudest outside decorations                                                                       Did we forget the homeless man on the corner who can't even buy a sock?                                        Who would give anything for that one sock, perhaps even another sock                    Why is Christmas a competition                               What happened to Cindy Lou Who, who asked where Christmas was and why she couldn't find it                                                       I seem to think that Christmas should be much the same as Thanksgiving,        But I am the only one,   As we continue to spend thousands of dollars each year's end                                                                 And soil what God intended originally for these twenty four hours                                             Maybe, just maybe,                       Spend a little less ******* money on your family,          And spend a little more time with them                                       It's all that homeless man could ask for,                                       Besides that sock
0
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
That Sockless Man Down The Corner Wishes You Would Treat Christmas The Right Way
Don't you find Christmas a little askew in its purpose? We remember a man who, born on this day, walked the Earth some two thousand years ago                    By burning pockets with gift giving,        Decorating a door frame with a $70 wreath which will die in two weeks,            Stuffing our faces with high fructose desserts and fat filled ham    Competing for the brightest tree (also going to die in two weeks) and the loudest outside decorations                                                                       Did we forget the homeless man on the corner who can't even buy a sock?                                        Who would give anything for that one sock, perhaps even another sock                    Why is Christmas a competition                               What happened to Cindy Lou Who, who asked where Christmas was and why she couldn't find it                                                       I seem to think that Christmas should be much the same as Thanksgiving,        But I am the only one,   As we continue to spend thousands of dollars each year's end                                                                 And soil what God intended originally for these twenty four hours                                             Maybe, just maybe,                       Spend a little less ******* money on your family,          And spend a little more time with them                                       It's all that homeless man could ask for,                                       Besides that sock
Continue reading...
19
I AM GOING TO WIN, I AM GOING TO WIN, I AM GOING TO WIN, I WON I WON I WON I WON I WON I WON I WON I WON I WON I WON I WON I WON I WON THIS ROCKS MY SOCKS MAN BECAUSE I AM THE BEST AND I DID IT I DID IT I DID IT YES I DID YES I AM THE VICTOR I HAVE ACHIEVED IT AND I THANK PEOPLE WHICH PEOPLE? I DON’T KNOW EVERYBODY, HOW BOUT THAT A LITTLE PIECE OF GRATITUDE TO CARRY AROUND IN YOUR WALLET AND SHOW TO THE PERSON STANDING AT THE ****** OVER AND HE WON’T PUNCH YOU BECAUSE HE IS SHOWING YOU HIS LITTLE PIECE OF GRATITUDE TOO YOU CAN HAVE A GRATITUDE PARTY INVITE YOUR FRIENDS INVITE STRANGERS INVITE THOSE PEOPLE WHO GO AROUND IN THOSE GIANT STREET CLEANERS AT NIGHT BECAUSE THEY LIKE TO HAVE FUN TOO AND WHEN EVERYONE HAS COME TOGETHER WITH ALL THEIR LITTLE PIECES OF GRATITUDE THEY WILL MERGE TOGETHER AND MAKE THE ULTIMATE THANK YOU AND IT WILL BLOW YOUR MINDS AND YOUR SOCKS TOO SO YOU’LL BE STANDING AROUND MINDLESS AND SOCKLESS AND I WILL TAKE OVER THE WORLD AND MAKE EVERYONE WALK BAREFOOT IN THE SNOW AND THEY WILL LISTEN BECAUSE THEIR MINDS HAVE BEEN BLOWN TO BITS YOU SEE AND THEY WILL DO WHATEVER I TELL THEM TO SO I WILL MAKE THEM FORM A PEOPLE HOUSE FOR ME TO LIVE IN AND IT WILL BE THE STURDIEST HOUSE THAT WHEN AN EARTHQUAKE COMES IT WILL ONLY SHAKE IT LIKE JELLO AND JELLO IS GOOD SO THAT IS NOT A PROBLEM AND THIS MY FRIENDS IS WHY YOU MUST NEVER THANK ANYONE BECAUSE THEN YOU BECOME SLAVES
0
Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 7:18 PM UTC
I Am Going To Win
Of withered petals just and nearly red which falling from my hairy hands to bed – these flower pieces can’t make up a whole but soon enthrall your drunk and curious head, and puff as fervent, brisk i lay you down; upon the busy spread soft, scattered soles of four (some sockless) feet, one evening gown, and fresh-laid drying petals bounce around. It seems your innocence that this night stole but ****** ties were freed as we were wed – the Stolen are the flowers from the ground now serving us as petals in a bowl. Our Romance culminates in quickly dying, you, sitting on the now-red petals, crying.
0
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
Romance (a sonnet)
My feet smell the deliciousness of long Thanksgiving. O! plain footsoles wandering about carpet-jailed stairs like violin strings' gravity encircling a soul. Hum a-long enough and you can conjure whole oceans in my eyes, whole masses of water that don't exist where we were born (hey, landlocked love). Outside in New England it sometimes snows. Today it rains. Anyway, I am a magician. Look here. Can you see our landlocked love from the shore it does not have? Like the Pilgrims finding Indians not from India, I find me not from me but from these smiles, our people, these feet, sinking and stinking of some small peace and walking sockless up and down a small warm home. And tomorrow, Harvard again, and someone has snapped my wand and killed the sparkling airs of incantations I had. But wait! Isn't this proof of a person who was once something not transplanted, but rooted earthily into a couch as brown dancer? I'm waiting for movies and the seizures of memory there as our minds' own lenses, and that empty feeling here remembered as good enough reason to greet us, draw further breaths, comb curls, chew and walk and talk of the cold outside (waiting endlessly for the landlocked sun), and talk of the bitter pinpricks of our still-life skin.
0
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 7:10 PM UTC
Philadelphia Poem.
Day after day her sanity peels away, Living to fight another day, Her hunger stirs inside once more, Murky shirt is hanging loose, Her face and hair covered in grime and dirt, Clothes ripped and worn, Her skin is withered and torn, Physically craving meal, Weighing 10 Stones lighter, Sockless and penniless, Time keeps slipping away, Feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders, She lays there on the hard concrete floor, Feeling scared and alone Looking over her shoulder, Terrible fears plague her, In this place she calls her home town, Strangers walk by gawking, Analysing her vulnerability, Criticizing her capability, Paralyzed by her identity, Stability is what she is hoping for, A facility that puts bread on the table, But the system shuns her away once more, She grasps onto her faith in fear it will start to crumble, A sense of purpose to stay alive She sees a familiar man standing by her side, He offer’s his hand with a welcoming promise and smiles with a high-spirited expression, A sense of warmth and belonging races through her body, She traces his wrinkles on his face, His eyes are hazel-nut brown, His hair and beard is frosty white, She recognizes his smell from when she was a child, A scent of incense and lavender, He gently rests her cheek in his hands, Sadness fills up in his eyes, He glimpses into her shattered soul, The grief which had burnt a hole, The anguish deep inside, Tears trickle down his face, There a stands a man of her heart
0
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 5:29 AM UTC
Matilda
When the rain has driven away the dry What’s left of us sticks To the soles of sockless feet, between the toes Where nature and the self meet I can taste it, building plaque between my teeth With hopeless fingers scrape it Wait for tooth decay, part with the idea Of a life fulfilled and the perfect day You can’t run away from death The harder you try, The closer it seems you get, and then Your knees are hitting the mud again There’s nothing I can do, the night closes in The doctor’s orders Are to kiss once again, and part You have my beauty, you have my art.
0
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 10:33 PM UTC
oblivious ways to say goodbye
you are purity northen snow looking for a ***** puddle  to splash your dreams  your calling card a lavender garter belt smile greeting me in sheer rip away pantyhose I take stock in your provisions your dainty crimson heart  in huggable fluffy blue socks in contrast to my bohemian naked sockless tender feet your legs open minded  to take in my deep thoughts my ****** veracity booms  your ****** groaning barrier decelerating silky winds  your painting shadow fades into us as one soppin wet tongue twisting kiss swaping syllables in the ears our spoonerism speckled between our two worlds  my dark silhouette presence buried in your chandelier shaded light
0
Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 8:21 PM UTC
Chandelier Shaded Light