Les plus lus ▸
Maquiladoras
bled to make shoes
to make clothes
which they did with good will
and great pain
who could not say Let us see
what we can do to mend all
as a fur of experience
rose over us like amber
Poèmes sur le thème : shoe
Poèmes sur le thème « shoe » sur Poets.by.
Undertaking
shoes blacked for the grave
his white gloves going
up and down
but how the dead have us ready
to love a day’s work
Developer
a deer is more than ink
something real
yet the expectation of profit
will make a man bland
like a lone shoe
or the corpse I find in my head
Togetherness
in my book of tales you desire me
not to speak
only to touch
a pair of shoes let alone all day
seldom complain
despair is an art
At the yacht club
In my new boat I am glad to leave
business a while
like a cunning fellow in a grave
or a little blind shoe,
ashamed to be bland.
Killer moves
A black hat
and some shoes
could not get up
a ladder, and fell
to dancing—
the first dance,
the first great kill.
Buckles to my shoes
I sat with duty and guilt and shame,
a brother to the poor.
This day I began to put on buckles to my shoes.
Ode to Old Shoes
the feet seek freedom
busting the broadest toe box
splaying out for balance
in an almost gape
at the gravity of it all
and the earth’s endlessness
such a repertoire
of grounds and surfaces
for the feet to savor without ingesting
to rely upon without clinging
a lesson from the dust
of the ancestors
who would’ve gone to rest
in their best shoes
the straight and narrow ones
that pinched all through church
Rites
today is the first holy day
we observe by living
almost any gland is worth a dinner
so full and so giving
who should we age into
if not a shoe
The Shoe
It is very late.
I must be disturbing everyone
with my typing.
A shoe
comes in the window.
A nice shoe.
It seems to be
smiling at me.
I'll keep it.
When do I fall asleep?
Now the police come.
I am accused of disturbing
the peace. Neighbors
stand in the door.
I get the shoe.
Holding it
The Invention of Shoes
There are millions of inventions
by man
and still it goes on.
All have had and still have
a single purpose:
to make a better and easier life
for humans on this planet.
But shoes ...
the invention of the shoe was an earl one.
This damning invention -
with its tenderness,
seduced human feet so much
as to make us not to feel the craving
for fervent kisses of the earth:
the first human betrayal of land.
Millions of other betrayals came later
Song of Karen, the Dancing Child
(O little white feet of mine)
Out in the storm and the rain you fly;
(Red, red shoes the colour of wine)
Can the children hear my cry?
(O little white feet of mine)
Never a child in the whole great town;
(Red, red shoes the colour of wine)
Lights out and the blinds pulled down.
(O little white feet of mine)
Never a light on a window pane,
(Red, red shoes the colour of wine)
And the wild wet cry of the rain.
(O little white feet of mine)
Shall I never again be still?
(Red, red shoes the colour of wine)
And away over valley and hill.