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Is Bliss then, such Abyss
340
Is Bliss then, such Abyss,
I must not put my foot amiss
For fear I spoil my shoe?
I'd rather suit my foot
Than save my Boot—
For yet to buy another Pair
Is possible,
At any store—
But Bliss, is sold just once.
The Patent lost
None buy it any more—
Say, Foot, decide the point—
The Lady cross, or not?
Verdict for Boot!
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lines On H---'s Foot
It may be you've seen her eyes,
Dark and deep like midnight skies;
You mayhap have seen them flash
Underneath the drooping lash,
And been dazzled by the light
Of those orbs, so dark and bright;
But-have you seen her foot,
In its little gaiter boot?
You have noticed, maybe, how
The lily spreads from chin to brow.
You have thought her cheek more fair
Than if roses lingered there;
(Roses would seem out of place
On her pale patrician face)
But-again I question you,
Have you seen her tiny shoe?
You have thought her mouth, no doubt,
Like a blush-rose half blown out;
Small and sweet, withal, beside,
Touched with scorn and curved with pride;
(Innate pride-not meant to chill)-
You have seen it there, and still-
Answer one more question, pray-
Have you seen her boot? I say.
Such a tiny, tiny thing,
Is that foot of which I sing;
No. 3 would hide it so
It could not be found, I know.
No. 2 must stand aside
All too long and large and wide,
No. 1
must
be the boot
For this maiden's little foot.
You may envy, sir, the clerk
In the shoe-store, hard at work,
Who tries the gaiter boot
On this cunning little foot.
On his knee, supporting it,
Saying, 'It's a perfect fit,'
Buttoning on the No. 1,
Looking sorry, when it's done.
You have seen her, slight and neat,
As she tripped along the street,
You have
heard
the pit-pat-fall
Of that foot so very small.
That she's fair, and pure, and good,
Bright, and sweet is understood,
But-have you
seen
that foot-
In its dainty gaiter boot?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Straw Foot
I guess you didnt hear me
When I told you for the first time
Well dont you worry
It wont be the last
All I need a floorboard
An a wooden shoe
Step aside an let my lady through
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Up an back around
See the high priest
He took my place
When the judge looks to me
He saw his sons face
Not gonna join you in
Your tower of babble, boy
Tired o that talkin
Im sick o that noise
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Im not alone
An looks can be deceivin
When we get down to it
Youre talkin when you
Should be leavin
Ive been to nebraska
It reminded me of spain
All the questions loaded
All my answers same
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hay foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Let us not mince our words
Lets say it true this time
I need your forgiveness
Just like you need mine
Tell me how it is that
You dont want what hes given
It aint no sin son
To be forgiven
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
All over town
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A foot soldier
When I was hurt & lost someone dear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the going got tough with nothing to gear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the faith felt small & doubts really bigger
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the sky was dark & nothing seemed near
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the wounds were hurting with no immediate cure
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the hopes were grim & nothing was clear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When storms came hard striking some fear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
I fought & fought & I fought till the victory was sure
Yes, I could do it because I am a foot soldier
poem by Ameya Deshpande
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Left Foot, Right Foot
left foot, right foot,
left foot, right foot,
eyes fixed straight ahead....
drawn by the spectre
of our own greed;
use it up, throw it out,
use it up, throw it out....
hardened and lifeless,
eaten from within
by the maggots of ego...
deaf to the cries
of our own children,
blinded by the 'God'
of cyber technology...
strip the fields,
cut down the forests...
mine the mountains,
we pee in our own
drinking water, and
walk away....
leaving nuclear tracks
in the womb of time.
left foot, right foot,
left foot, right foot...
marching blindly to hell
with drool on our chins!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Ineptness
Carry a big stick,
To threaten from a distance.
Send me pictures of it...
To upset me quick,
With visions I'll be hit with it!
But you'll be wrong wrong.
And I'll be long gone!
Foot power...
Zip.
I like buttered biscuits,
Baked and fresh.
Heated from the oven,
And tasting their best!
You can bring that big stick,
To threaten me with it.
But when I've eaten buttered biscuits,
I'm prepared to split.
Humming a song...
With,
Foot power...zip!
Inept.
Foot power,
Zip!
Ineptness.
Foot power zip!
Inept.
Foot power,
Zip!
Ineptness.
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Foot power zip!
'What is this? '
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Foot power zip!
'What is this? '
Foot power zip!
'What? '
Ineptness!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One Foot On The Path
You say, come over baby, come talk to me
Then you drive me so crazy
I cant hardly see
If this keeps goin on
I might just leave and not come back
I got one foot in your doorway
I got one foot on the path
Well you beg me to stay
Then you order me to go
All this up and down
Is wear and tear on my soul
Im wonderin if our future
Is gonna look just like our past
I got one foot in your doorway
I got one foot on the path
Now I love you, baby
Dont get me wrong
But this heart of mine
May not be that strong
You got me on your line
Reel me in or throw me back
I got one foot in your doorway
I got on foot on the path
Youd best thing about it, baby
But dont take too long
If we cant get it right
Ill just be movin on
I cant wait forever
For us to get this thing on track
I got one foot in your doorway, baby
I got on foot on the path
song performed by by Kenny Wayne Shepherd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Keep the Boot
My foot finally struck,
Upon you in a place...
I promised you it would land.
And with that imprinted there,
And in your mind...
I hope where 'something' cements,
Let us remember the day you dared.
And your eyes,
Glistening with a stare.
And opening wider...
As you were not prepared,
For the swift arrival of my foot...
Up in your der·ri·ère.
Are there any more bets you would like to place?
You should know by now,
I do all I can to keep my promises.
Keep the boot.
I have a new pair.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dancing the invisible line
Some like to sit on fences, admire the view in safety;
some are born hurdlers; .
draw a line, and some minds shrink back;
others can’t wait to compete, first over wins…
poets, said the sage, should always
walk on the edge of madness…
ah, remember when you were a child,
walking down the path one foot within,
one foot beyond?
‘a line of poetry’…every line, a line,
one foot beyond, one foot within –
prose, verse; rhymed, unrhymed;
metered, unmetered; actual, fantasy;
elevated, jokey; personal, impersonal;
tragic, comic; a road taken, or not taken..
oh, so many lines
that others painted on the road –
dance down that road,
one foot beyond, one foot within..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Boots
INFANTRY COLUMNS
We're foot--slog--slog--slog--sloggin' over Africa --
Foot--foot--foot--foot--sloggin' over Africa --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Seven--six--eleven--five--nine-an'-tw enty mile to-day --
Four--eleven--seventeen--thirty-two the day before --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Don't--don't--don't--don't--look at what's in front of you.
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again);
Men--men--men--men--men go mad with watchin' em,
An' there's no discharge in the war!
Try--try--try--try--to think o' something different --
Oh--my--God--keep--me from goin' lunatic!
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Count--count--count--count--the bullets in the bandoliers.
If--your--eyes--drop--they will get atop o' you!
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again) --
There's no discharge in the war!
We--can--stick--out--'unger, thirst, an' weariness,
But--not--not--not--not the chronic sight of 'em --
Boot--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!
'Taint--so--bad--by--day because o' company,
But night--brings--long--strings--o' forty thousand million
Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again.
There's no discharge in the war!
I--'ave--marched--six--weeks in 'Ell an' certify
It--is--not--fire--devils, dark, or anything,
But boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Walking
Take your left foot,
Bend the knee.
Move the foot forward.
Place it down.
Then do the same thing,
Wth the right foot.
'Suppose I started with my right foot?
Would that make a difference? '
Try it and see which makes you feel comfortable.
'I like this.'
Now...
Don't be frightened.
But next week,
'We' are going to attempt to do this...
From a standing position.
One moment.
Do you have a question.
~Yes.
Is it possible you can slow down a little.
I am taking notes and you are going too fast.~
No problem.
'What are you calling this? '
~Right.
What is this called? ~
Walking.
~Do you mind spelling that? ~
W-a-l-k-i-n-g.
Walking.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cheppal Bite
Bite the foot
Cheppal...
The cheppal
Was not bad...
It was very
Beauty...
Ugly road
Darty street
The cheppal
Was walking
To me...
Size also
Fit for my foot...
What was the
Probleam to the
Cheppal bite? ? ? ?
The cheppal
Was new...
So he was bite
To my foot...
After few weeks
Gone...
The cheppal
Was come to
Comfortable
On my foot
Too friend ship...
Bited injury was
Free foronly exprince...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Big Toe Meets Big Foot
Mysterious sightings where seen,
in California by the Evergreens.
Big Toe wanted to know,
so he invited Big Foot on his radio show.
Big Foot came in wearing a disguise,
he was in an ape suit -what a surprise!
But that’s O.K. they talked away.
Big Foot was all the rage.
Audience members did call in,
giving answers to millions of questions.
But one thing is for sure,
Big Toe’s rating went up because of this man dressed in fur.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Five Foot One
Yeah, I like it
Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!
I'm only five foot one
I got a pain in my neck
I'm looking up in the city
What the hell what the heck
I stare at the concrete
The girders eye high
The steel's above me
There's love in my eyes
And I'm doing the things
A five foot one man can do
I'm only five foot one
I got a pain in my heart
All the night I'm working
In the amusement park
With a bottle of aspirin
A sack full of jokes
I wish I could go home
With all the big folks
And I wish life could be
Swedish magazines
I wish life could be
Swedish magazines
I wish life could be
Anything
Ugh! Aie! Aie! Aie!
Ugh!
I'm only five foot one
Unless the time has come
I won't grow anymore
Anymore, anymore, anymore
'Till I'm losing my head
I'm checkin' it twice
I'm gonna find out who's naughty and nice
And I'm doing the things a five foot one man can do
I wish life could be Swedish magazines(x3)
I wish life could be
Yeah, I wish life could be
Oooooooooohhh
I wish life could be
I wish life could be Swedish magazines
I wish life could be Swedish magazines
I wish life could be
I won't grow anymore(x3)
Anymore, anymore, anymore, anymore, anymore
I'm only five foot one(x3)
I'm five foot one
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This big part flies off on the floor. The other part goes like this and lands in my foot! Standing up! It's standing in my foot! Right in the side of my foot. The flute glass. I think I'm like in one of my own pictures.
quote by Danny DeVito
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I first saw President Reagan as a foot, highly polished brown cordovan wagging merrily on a hassock. I spied it through the door. It was a beautiful foot, sleek. Such casual elegance and clean lines! But not a big foot, not formidable, maybe a little... frail. I imagined cradling it in my arms, protecting it from unsmooth roads.
quote by Peggy Noonan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whose Boot Is It Anyway?
Alone & footless,
Sideswiped on the highway,
South of Grand Canyon,
The boot weathers the rain.
Whose feet had felt its pain?
The absent man hurdled from a car,
Dead, now a ghost among the juniper flat.
Gone now, but a pariah to his own left boot's wall.
A bum, a hectic gambler, a heretic,
Or just some dozing motorist;
Another question remains;
Was the little white cross sticking out of the pavement
His? Or was that happenstance,
Laced up to the top, some unlikely chance?
No man is here.
Yet a man was there.
A man who lost his life & line,
Leaving one boot as a puzzle to find.
It gives me a chasm of a feeling,
& at 80 mph my mind is reeling,
Where in all this wilderness
Is the fellow with at least one bare foot
& what fate did he meet?
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Give Me No More Booty
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Ah
Booty is too good
Ah
Your booty is too good.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
I can never stop,
When you give it out a lot.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Giving me so much,
Makes my head get such a rush.
I can't sustain my game with it!
Or sustain my need to be relieved.
I'm whipped!
Quick.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Ah
Booty is too good
Ah
Your booty is too good.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
I can never stop,
When you give it out a lot.
I'm no beast to eatcha.
When you are in heat.
I'd rather just keep ya...
Between sheets,
Beneath.
Oh,
I'm no beast to eatcha.
When you are in heat.
I'd rather just keep ya...
Between sheets,
Beneath.
Oh,
But...
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
Ah
Your booty is too good
Ah
Your booty is too good.
Give me no more booty,
'Cause your booty is too good.
I can never stop,
When you give it out a lot.
You make it hard...
To give that booty a boot.
Make it hard,
To give that booty a boot.
You make it hard...
To give that booty a boot.
Make it hard,
To give that booty a boot.
You make it hard...
To give that booty a boot.
Make it hard,
To give that booty a boot.
You make it hard...
To give that booty a boot.
Make it hard,
To give that booty a boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
Got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
Got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
Got to,
Get up off your booty and boot.
I've got to,
Get up off your booty.
Get up off your booty.
Get up off your booty.
And boot!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Budging An Inch
Never put up with fools lightly.
Show there is an edge to that patience.
Put a foot down.
Don't put up with clowns.
And leave it there.
That foot.
Someone has to show,
Someone where to go!
And with a foot down.
Solidly placed on the ground,
The message becomes clear.
As to who is not budging an inch.
Make it clear.
These days are not for cheap wine,
And plastic roses.
A seriousness about life,
Has formally begun.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Free Verse
I now delight
In spite
Of the might
And the right
Of classic tradition,
In writing
And reciting
Straight ahead,
Without let or omission,
Just any little rhyme
In any little time
That runs in my head;
Because, I’ve said,
My rhymes no longer shall stand arrayed
Like Prussian soldiers on parade
That march,
Stiff as starch,
Foot to foot,
Boot to boot,
Blade to blade,
Button to button,
Cheeks and chops and chins like mutton.
No! No!
My rhymes must go
Turn ’ee, twist ’ee,
Twinkling, frosty,
Will-o’-the-wisp-like, misty;
Rhymes I will make
Like Keats and Blake
And Christina Rossetti,
With run and ripple and shake.
How pretty
To take
A merry little rhyme
In a jolly little time
And poke it,
And choke it,
Change it, arrange it,
Straight-lace it, deface it,
Pleat it with pleats,
Sheet it with sheets
Of empty conceits,
And chop and chew,
And hack and hew,
And weld it into a uniform stanza,
And evolve a neat,
Complacent, complete,
Academic extravaganza!
poem by Robert Graves
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