(a very drafty poem) About feet
Untie, unbuckle, unloose your shoes.
Quit your socks from their embrace.
Bare feet illuminate.
Now then, what’s between your toes
depends whole heartedly upon the direction
you face.
Which less commonly thought, includes
the ups the downs, the later being the usual
circumference.
So what and where do you trek if
there’s only blue between your toes?
And that reminds me.
Oh yea, sometimes it’s glowing thoughtful
white bleach, sometimes new fawn shadow
grey, sometimes even stars bare and naked
peeking shy from beneath my feet.
A full dipper to ladle our plate.
Bare feet walking the sky.
Maybe we’ll leave you a slice
of moon.
neil reid © august 2012
comments:
An odd scrap of a thing, this poem is. Wrote another first, but more than less, it felt so “usual” for me, and I wanted something more. But what. Then this arrived. It don’t really feel all grow’d up to me, and the ending feels weak, but there is a quality shift in style and voice that I like (so it’s here, better and worse such as it is). Not a rule that poems need be “all done”, so a draft this is. This poem (sort of purposely) walks up to the edge of the pool, but doesn’t yet jump on in. And it might get swallowed up into something else I’ve been playing with now for weeks and weeks (we’ll see).
Besides I want to demonstrate (“X” marks the spot) that sharing a draft is both valid personally and as something to share with the community (hint, hint). Why does everything we write need to be perfectly polished? My favorite line from “Tales of the City”, as the landlady speaks to the new “midwest girl” in the big SF town, in query about “the rules” she responds, “dear, I don’t object to much of anything!”
Wouldn’t that be a good attitude to nurture in ourselves??
Written for the We Write Poems prompt #119, This reminds me….
Inspiration from the story “Big Fish”, shoes off, socks off, feet in water, then the thought, this reminds me… Write from that position. Common enough but bare feet, yea, that changes things. Experience and imagination both get more intimate, more connected (so’s the thought anyway).
Well, this midwest girl (transplanted deep in the heart of Texas) LOVES this poem…I enjoyed letting myself explore the different views between the toes, and what fun to “end up” (literally figuratively?)
with the tune “Twinkle Twinkle Little Toes” in my head as I walked the sky.
Me another twinkle toes!
Like what you found beneath bare feet. I spend most of my time bare foot, but envy where you walked. And yes, I agree that we need to share the scraps and pieces, letting them out is a way to nurture them with sunlight.
Elizabeth
Love this portion:
“sometimes even stars bare and naked
peeking shy from beneath my feet.
A full dipper to ladle our plate.
Bare feet walking the sky.
Maybe we’ll leave you a slice
of moon.”
Excellent…not too holey at all IMO.
If I had my way, I would never wear shoes. Problem is, that gets pretty frosty in wintertime Ohio.
You remind me of the thrill of going barefoot. I believe at some point we can all walk the sky. The last two stanzas were absolutely gorgeous. If this is a draft, I couldn’t tell.
-Nicole