Footprints (Small Minded Men)
we walk barefoot down nuclear beaches,
driven, without direction, to leave footprints.
coughing up spit, and avoiding shadows,
of small minded men following
the legend of the phallus,
to early, and inconvenient deaths.
gulls swing over in drunken glaze,
we bend to pick up a broken shell.
naming it ocean, we place it to our ears...
as the incoming tide swirls at our feet.
shark fins, and the bodies of dead fish,
the stink of salt, and the rhythm...
lost inside the sound and the roar,
we never notice our footprints washed away....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Footprints
Footprints in the sand
As deep as they might be
Will someday be washed away
By the wind or by the sea.
The footprints have been placed
Upon the beaches sand
In memory of a creature
Proclaiming Himself as Man.
I followed this set of footprints
Placed upon the beaches Earth
To find out where Man had gone to,
And to find out His Earthly worth.
Many of the footprints were deep,
Placed upon the beaches sand,
From the troubles that Man had kept
With memories held in His hand.
And the footprints, that were placed wide
They were many upon the beach,
Were they from the trouble that Man did hide,
Or was it from happiness, that was out of reach.
And then as I noticed in front of me
The footprints were swept away,
Man again was forgotten
Until He returned another day.
Then I looked behind me,
I saw my footprints in the sand
And I know someone will follow them
While wondering, who was this Man.
Had my footprints been placed deep,
Or were they placed apart very wide,
Will they wondered if I ever laughed,
Or if I cried, from sorrows I couldn't hide.
So I closed my eyes and I wondered
About the footprints that I had placed
Someday, will Man He follow them,
While believing my life a waste.
So I continued my walk upon the beach,
I was a very joyful and happy Man,
I left my sorrow and trouble behind me,
In my footprints in the sand.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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In The Footprints of My Mother
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall step to you.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall stay innocent and true.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall not give up hope.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall give you my love note.
In the footprints of my mother,
Lead me to a better path.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall releive in her wrath.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall cure all of your pains.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall bring you great reigns.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall unleash the angels of truth.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall defeat the evils booth.
The footprints of my mother,
led me straight to you.
The footprints of my mother,
Shown me I have nothing left to loose.
The footprints of my mother,
Guieded me towards the compelling lights.
The footprints of my mother,
Guided me towards the love of my life.
poem by Erin Grantham
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Footprints
Walking on the Gulf Shores
You leave footprints
That are quickly washed away by the tide
Like you were never there
But you took secret visits
To the sand, the sky, the waves
Walking on the Gulf Shores
You leave footprints
That are quickly washed away
Like you were never there
I Was Ever Gone?
what makes you think i was ever gone?
i am the embrace of your lips just before sound!
leaves turn and fall like lovers separated,
but the tree stands firm and strong!
the robin's nest carried away by rats,
yet wings leave footprints in the sky.
clouds seem to know, and tread softly,
in respect for that which cannot be taken.
mountains undress in the darkest hour,
while all else sleep inside the shell.
the lantern searches the old woman's face,
for the coming and going of rabid mice.
the stink on your pillow tugs at your ears,
and your feet quiver in dreamless sleep.
i am the nothing you brush against,
that makes your soul stop and weep!
what makes you think i was ever gone?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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For Jesus
Shadows of HIS footprints become our words
And I love to enclose them all inside.
In time,
Shadows of HIS words become our thoughts
And I love to call them eternal,
Because The Lord said:
''Now therefore go, and I will be with thy mouth,
And teach thee what thou shalt say.'(Exodus 4: 12)
Shadows of His thoughts become our words
And His thoughts are incommensurable.
Shadows of our words become HIS footprints
Because.....
Yes
Because we will become land
And
Because we are a praying land,
Needing HIS footprints....
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Dreams to Nightmares
I stare at the wall and close my eyes
I started to dream about parts of the world
Beaches to oceans to schools of fish
My dreams turn to nightmares after awhile
The cool, damp beach where sand comes to rest
The emptiness in the pastel blue sky
The sand placed perfectly in place
The smell of salt water against the shore
The crystal clear ocean calm as can be
The current not even moving sea life
Fish eating at the bottom by the sand
The sound of calm waves hitting the shore
The colorful fish ranging from green to blue
Fish from all different sizes
The sound of fish jumping out of the ocean
They swim without a government to follow
The beaches turn to cemeteries
The oceans turn dark gray, and fish floating dead
The sky black as can be with flashes of light
You wake up realizing life is so much different
poem by Kasondra Sytnik
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440
Accept the fact
The fear that you have nothing to tell anymore
To amuse yourself
writers' block, shutting up, windows closing,
doors locked, mind shrinking,
like the fish vendor who sells rumors & rotten stories
To the streets
You go to the fish market today
Not buying any fish or selling any or even touching gills
so you can breathe
You’re looking for some
Salt
Taking notes of the fish scales discarded
Trashed
Some fish bones & broken fins
some fishermen catching
Broken hearts on their small eyed nets
You go back with fish fins
And fish tails, thick lips and round moving eyes
You will start with a mermaid story today.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Nothing To Tell, Begin With A Mermaid Story
Accept the fact
The fear that you have nothing to tell anymore
To amuse yourself
writers' block, shutting up, windows closing,
doors locked, mind shrinking,
like the fish vendor who sells rumors & rotten stories
To the streets
You go to the fish market today
Not buying any fish or selling any or even touching gills
so you can breathe
You’re looking for some
Salt
Taking notes of the fish scales discarded
Trashed
Some fish bones & broken fins
some fishermen catching
Broken hearts on their small eyed nets
You go back with fish fins
And fish tails, thicked lippes and round moving eyes
You will start with a mermaid story today.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Crucifix
we, who walk with shoulders bent,
leaving bloody footprints in the snow.
our very lives a crucifix, by design,
our hunger unabated by the stars...
pray with calloused hands grimy
with the work of the heart.
whispered deaths lost to the wind,
nothing held back, or denied...
we, who walk with shoulders bent,
leaving bloody footprints in the snow...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Drunken Head Blues
Well the bricks are piled on main street
And the sun is turning brown
Anybody with any sense
Has already left town
The beast is hollering lonesome
And the ghost of rimbaud rides
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
I can hear a dog someplace barking
I hear the wind begin to moan
At night I walk these rain splattered streets
Dead on my feet and all alone
My dreams begin to crumble
I can feel the downward slide
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
I have seen all of my dreams
Slipping away like sand
Love has grown wings and left me
Flown right out of my hand
Now Im weary and bruised from singing the blues
And my fortunes are down
My face and my walk are known
In every bar and dive in town
You can ask me where am I going
But Ill let your question ride
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
Ive got a handful of mist
Ive got a barrel of it
What do I do with it
Now Ive got no place to run
And Ive got no place to hide
All my trials, all my cares
All my worries, all my pride
All my sins, all my troubles
Theyre being washed in by the tide
And I wish, how I wish
That I could get on that horse
And ride and ride, ride and ride, ride and ride
Onto the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side, the other side, the other side...
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drunken Head Blues
Well the bricks are piled on main street
And the sun is turning brown
Anybody with any sense
Has already left town
The beast is hollering lonesome
And the ghost of rimbaud rides
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
I can hear a dog someplace barking
I hear the wind begin to moan
At night I walk these rain splattered streets
Dead on my feet and all alone
My dreams begin to crumble
I can feel the downward slide
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
I have seen all of my dreams
Slipping away like sand
Love has grown wings and left me
Flown right out of my hand
Now Im weary and bruised from singing the blues
And my fortunes are down
My face and my walk are known
In every bar and dive in town
You can ask me where am I going
But Ill let your question ride
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
Ive got a handful of mist
Ive got a barrel of it
What do I do with it
Now Ive got no place to run
And Ive got no place to hide
All my trials, all my cares
All my worries, all my pride
All my sins, all my troubles
Theyre being washed in by the tide
And I wish, how I wish
That I could get on that horse
And ride and ride, ride and ride, ride and ride
Onto the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side, the other side, the other side...
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On An April Evening In The Fall
With folded wings the fishing gannets plunge into the sea
And the nuggety old man with fishing rod was waiting patiently
For a fish to bite as the incoming waves splashed quite close to his feet
And each new wave it came surging in as each old wave did retreat.
Have you been catching many fish today? of the fisherman I inquired
Not been doing too well today mate the old fellow replied
I've yet to catch a fish today, sometimes in the rising tide
From cover they don't venture out between the rocks they hide.
I'll stay another hour he said at least until twilight
The wife would like a good sized fish to cook for tea tonight
Still I don't like my chances much it's a quarter after four
I'll stay till a quarter after five and not one second more
The silver gulls cry on the beach the angry ocean roar
The gannets fishing on the bay, the old man from the shore
And people walking on the beach before their evening tea
On a sunny evening in April in the Fall by the Pacific sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Footprints
FOOTPRINTS
In the journey of my life's ups and downs
You accompany me and guide me
With my burdened heart
I see your footprints left in the sand
The footprints you leave behind
Encourage me to go on
My prayers flow like tears
Watching your presence left in the sand
And your care imprinted in my heart
I know you have carried me
My footprints I cannot see
You want me to be happy, fulfilled and free
To complete the works you have begun on me.
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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The Death Papers.... (Part One)
perhaps, we then
are but a series of deaths,
tiny deaths, unclaimed sparks...
or one long death
in illiterate stages,
flesh scarred memories failing,
deeper and deeper in the grain,
the stink of rot, and becoming!
broken wings and stolen kisses,
lips scorched and fingers broken,
beyond names and naming,
beyond words and thinking...
till nothing is left,
but raw sound,
and the veins of the decayed leaf,
shouting silence, and redemption!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Beautiful Mermaid
Walking the beaches of southern earth
A beauty in my eyes gave new beauty birth
A mermaid washed upon the shores of sand
With a purple shell of love in hand
I picked it up and placed it to my ear
I heard the ocean talk and in my soul fear
I dropped the shell and looked down
The mermaid was dead, she most of drown
Her fins wert made of coral reef
And her heart was made for my belief
In her hair emeralds lights shone
On her finger lay one rock alone
Its color was like an ocean sapphire
More brilliant then an land fire
Her finger tips colored a garnet jade
Whitened there as she laid
I couldn't help to become dour
At such beauty dead, dead galore
SO I pick up the purple shell
And its conch I began to plea
‘Give her life and thou can have me
My song and my rhyme and my earthly glory'
I dropped to the sand, and saw my heart leak
Into her hand, when I became weak
She rose from sleep and looked at me
Dying, she smiled and fled back to the sea
I die not in vain but for beauty
As the mermaid lived for an eternity….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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On The Trail Of Pessoa
i've walked this road for so long,
that i know what silence tastes like.
i hear only the simple sounds,
or the simplicity of sound...
i no longer confuse shadows,
and i sleep with dogs.
owning nothing,
there's nothing i would kill
to purchase!
there are no footprints
in front of me,
i follow no one.
intimate encounters with strangers,
for we are all strangers,
even to ourselves.
perhaps a word or two,
or not...
we share the cup, and the fire.
i have long conversations with trees,
read intimate stories
written in branches and leaves...
sing lovesongs to small pools of water,
pick up the broken shell of the hatchling
with awe....
my eyes bow in reverence
in the presence of women...
small children come to me,
tell me stories about dreams.
we build kingdoms of sticks,
discarded by birds....
stray cats sit on my lap,
i learn the language of paw.
i listen to the wind
humming in the spider's web.
and dead things rest
by the side of my chair...
waiting for dawn, just waiting!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Footsteps Like Pain
Over one hundred footsteps,
Taking over like pain
when they leave many footsteps,
Behind you they'll fade,
ever so gently
so, so, slowly
Kind of like how, when somebodys in pain,
The approach,
feels overwelming
So overwelming that,
you take so much
pride in hurt,
that you dont even realize
To give a care,
about anybody but yourself
Just like the footprints
It slowly fades
while its passing by,
you die inside
Feels like a long time when you discover
it's only been a few hours
you start to surmise
this thinking inside,
causes emotional pain
When you look back
where your footprints,
It will seem like,
it just happened
yesterday
Pain disintegrates quickly
but,
that's the point of Fading!
Footsteps
leave all kinds of imprints
some are unaltered
most effect in such,
a peculiar way
When you feel pain,
others may see it
and affect them,
badly
Or if you feel pain,
nobody may notice it,
but that pain,
is the kind that creates
slow fades
you may feel it at it's worst peak
Footprints and Pain!
poem by Nicole Hanes
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Siren Of The Sea
Sea-
When the tide comes in
I will walk upon two feet
I will wander through the shallow waters
So we two can meet
When the tide goes out
I will join it in the sea
When the waves crash against the shore
Look upon them and remember me
Land-
I shall not walk upon the land
But I shall sing to you from the sea
The tune of the ocean
In such fluid melody
So jump into the water
And take me by the hand
Walk with me through the sea
For I cannot bear the land
Swim-
Walk into the waters
For that is where you will find me
Bathe with me in the ocean
And swim with me through the sea
For there you will always find me
The sea is my song
I will sing it to you as we swim
For this is where we belong
Walk-
I shall not walk upon dry land
Though two feet could be mine
My fins are what I am accustom to
And they suit me just fine
I will not walk upon dry land
For there I cannot be
So delve into the ocean
And you may swim with me
poem by Tatianna Rei Moonshadow
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Cold Air
Waiting for the last leaf to fall,
Can I hear a cry for a dead man to crawl,
Asleep like stones in the well,
Empty as you leave your dry sea shell.
Never seen you came this far,
Never thought Id hope this hard.
Like air,
Always looking down upon yourself,
Like air,
You live two feet above yourself,
Somewhere,
We will always be in parallel,
Out there,
Its a place without a hope in hell.
Like air...
Havent made a sound all week,
Trying to gather up some promises to keep,
I watched as the icicles fell,
Pinned to the bottom or drowning, its hard to tell,
You may be human after all,
Never seen you came this far,
Must you build yourself so tall.
Like air,
Always looking down upon yourself,
Like air,
You live two feet above yourself,
Somewhere,
We will always be in parallel,
Out there,
Its a place without a hope in hell.
Like air...
Trying to wash your trace off my skin,
Cover up the footprints Ive been walking in,
Easier to cut you cold,
You can keep your waste of space, Im half way home.
You may be human after all,
Never seen you came this far,
Must you build yourself so tall.
Like air,
Always looking down upon yourself,
Like air,
You live two feet above yourself,
Somewhere,
We will always be in parallel,
Out there,
Its a place without a hope in hell.
Like air,
Like air,
Like air,
Like air,
Like air,
Like air...
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I walk om Margate’s beach
When I walk om Margate’s beach
something is caught,
in the sound of the breaking waves
and it echoes there forever more.
The beach is wiped clear
by the rushing waters
of the high tide,
but somehow footprints
walk the beach
as if they were just set there.
In the pleasant summer
golden bodies spreads
right around me
and the waves,
are filled with children
splashing and laughing
at the joy of living.
poem by Gert Strydom
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