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.
(O little white feet of mine)
Children, children, open the door!
(Red, red shoes the colour of wine)
And the wind shrieks Nevermore.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Related quotes
White Shoes
(jack tempchin)
I want em, I need em
And Im gonna go out and get em
White shoes
I know Ill feel better
When I slide down into the leather
White shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
I woke up from a dream
When I saw em in a magazine
White shoes
I said lou you gotta start new
And the first thing you gotta do
Is get some white shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
You know he left me with the lonesome blues
Been hangin round too long with nothin to do
Yeah, he really made me pay those dues
But Im goin out on the town tonight in
White shoes
Well, I wanted em, I needed em
Yeah, and I went out and got em
White shoes
That new boy when I see him
Im gonna walk right up and meet him in
White shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
White shoes
Im goin out on the town tonight
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
White shoes ... woah, oh, oh... white shoes
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I too, have got shoes
Have you seen shoes on children here
No shoes for other children
No shoes for your children
My uncle said to my dad
I lost my shoes—small shoes
from then on
My feet crushed the thorns
from then on
The city was taken from me
But not me from the city
from then on
Many years later my shoe remover died
And I got back my shoes
Bigger shoes—for crushing thorns
from then on
I cat walked in them
And went to bed in them
from then on
I got the city back
Even when I stayed there
from then on
Believe me I too have got shoes
And I slip my feet in them
But not for sleep anymore
Yes I too have got shoes
Other children wear shoes
My children wear shoes
Wear shoes why not
Why not why not why not why not
Shoes in the cot
Shoes to school
Shoes to the market
Shoes to the office
Why not wear shoes
poem by Moses Kainwo
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The Shoe Argument....
there is this connection
his feet are too small for the shoes
and he is having a hard
time fitting in
what he expects is something
different
something that someone may
find too usual
the shoes are always thought of
as smaller
than that of the feet
i am thinking of another point
what if we have no feet at all?
and the shoes are all too expensive?
same thing perhaps.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Blind Child's Plea
What is the colour of the wind, Daddy?
Said the child so small
What is the colour of the wind?
For i can't see it at all
It is the colour of freedom, my child
Said the man to his son
It is the colour of all
The specks of light in the rainbow
That is the colour of the wind
What else, Daddy? What else?
Begged the child
Explain to me more
For you can see what i can not
The sun
The sea
The Earth
And more
It is the colour of beauty
Of peace and light
It is the colour of love
And of day and of night
It feels so free
Said the child
With arms outstreached
I never would have guessed
The colour of the wind
It is the colour you want it to be
And it doesn't matter if you can't see
For the wind is your friend
And you alone
Know the colours of the wind.
poem by Lucy Westmacott
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In My Sky At Twilight
In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.
The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
the sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!
You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon's
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depth of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.
You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begin.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Whiteshoe Boy
You: Whiteshoe Boy
How are your shoes today?
and those feet that rest in them?
Those feet that draw footsteps in the sand
The ones I wish'll make their way to my heart
The same ones I'd love to follow
all the way to the end of the widest sea
Oh what a sight to find:
Oh what heaven it'll be; your footsteps lined up next to mine.
Yes you: Whiteshoe Boy
How are your shoes today?
and those hands that own them?
Those big friendly hands that shook mine
The ones that'll slide our wedding band through my finger
The ones with strong Herculean arms adjoined
The same ones that'll sweep me through our door;
on our wedding night.
Oh what a sight to find:
Oh what heaven'll see; your hands cradled in mine.
poem by Rifhan Miller
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Rollicking Hans
HALLO there! A glass!
Ha! the draught's truly sweet!
If for drink go my shoes,
I shall still have my feet.
A maiden and wine,
With sweet music and song,--
I would they were mine,
All life's journey along!
If I depart from this sad sphere,
And leave a will behind me here,
A suit at law will be preferr'd,
But as for thanks,--the deuce a word!
So ere I die, I squander all,
And that a proper will I call.
HIS COMRADE.
Hallo there! A glass!
Ha! the draught's truly sweet
If thou keepest thy shoes,
Thou wilt then spare thy feet.
A maiden and wine,
With sweet music and song,
On pavement, are thine,
All life's journey along!
-----
THE FREEBOOTER,
No door has my house,
No house has my door;
And in and out ever
I carry my store.
No grate has my kitchen,
No kitchen my grate;
Yet roasts it and boils it
Both early and late.
My bed has no trestles,
My trestles no bed;
Yet merrier moments
No mortal e'er led.
My cellar is lofty,
My barn is full deep,
From top to the bottom,--
There lie I and sleep.
And soon as I waken,
All moves on its race;
My place has no fixture,
My fixture no place.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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I Have No Desire To Limp Home With Agonized Feet
I don't have to be in 'his' shoes,
To know what it is like...
To commit to do for others.
And have those oppose my sacrifice,
To share with a few who listen and gossip...
About what I do they would do differently,
Because what I do for 'them' is either criticized.
But mostly disliked.
I don't have to be in 'his' shoes,
To know what it is like...
To commit to do for others.
However,
I have learned over the years...
When those shoes became too tight to wear,
I do not keep them on to soak my feet...
When not in public.
Oh no.
I don't have to be in 'his' shoes,
To know what it is like...
To commit to do for others.
Every pair of shoes I put on today...
Are guaranteed to provide my comfort.
I have no desire to limp home with agonized feet.
After I have met with a group of ungrateful people.
And to argue their cause too?
No!
I've already made those donations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Ambitions Are to Defy Logic
Why do you tie your shoes like that?
'To see how quickly it can be done,
When they are on my feet.'
But wouldn't it be easier,
To put them 'on' your feet...
Enabling you to both time 'that'
As well as have the shoes already on your feet?
'My ambitions are to defy logic.
I am not going to bore myself with it! '
I see!
And you still say...
Your recent split from your relationship,
With your spouse...
Has nothing to do with your increased strange behavior?
'What strange behavior?
If this is what I want to do,
Why to you it has to be so 'strange'? '
Well,
It's like this...
You are sitting on your front lawn,
In broad daylight.
Sitting in your underwear.
And there is a gathering of your neighbors,
Across the street...
Watching you,
Tie shoes that are not on your feet.
Over and over again.
This is strange behavior.
'Who cares what they think?
Those are the same people who called the police,
When I chose to lay on my own roof butt naked...
During the last rain storm we had a few weeks ago.
And like I told the police.
And my 'mate'.
Who am I offending if I have chosen not to circumcise? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Me Mine
All thru' the day i me mine, i me mine, i me mine.
All thru' the night i me mine, i me mine, i me mine.
Now they're frightened of leaving it
Ev'ryone's weaving it,
Coming on strong all the time,
All thru' the day i me mine.
I-me-me mine, i-me-me mine,
I-me-me mine, i-me-me mine.
All i can hear i me mine, i me mine, i me mine.
Even those tears i me mine, i me mine, i me mine.
No-one's frightened of playing it
Ev'ryone's saying it,
Flowing more freely than wine,
All thru' the day i me mine.
I-me-me mine, i-me-me mine,
I-me-me mine, i-me-me mine.
All i can hear i me mine, i me mine, i me mine.
Even those tears i me mine, i me mine, i me mine.
No-one's frightened of playing it
Ev'ryone's saying it,
Flowing more freely than wine,
All thru' your life i me mine.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Judgement Day
soul of shadows have
white colour today.
To hide the hidden cries-
of shadeless.
Now, blood will flaw-
bellow the beautiful valleys.
To him,
to eat flesh from died.
Here, the the sticks
of black hands
are horrible than the guns,
and no untouchablity-
to white trishools.
Here, increasing
the tones of red.
Instead of to rise
three feet up-
sun is burning
on their stomach.
If today the marbiles
are in colour of blood,
dear poet,
you can die now.
Don't wait more.
Never, that day 'll come.
poem by Muhammad Mirash
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The Shoes
The shoes are red
And creamy white on the inside
As pure and beautiful on the inside
As they are vibrating red
On the outside.
She puts her incredibly beautiful feet
In them and begins her practice routine.
The red shoes hug her feet
As if from sheer love,
Glistening, having achieved their purpose.
Plus her feet are beautiful, warm and strong.
I know.
You wouldn't be able to know,
Those shoes looked so gentle and pretty
Just a while ago.
They go with her every move
Seemingly loving every minute of it.
The leather red of her shoes
Is the color of blood
Reflecting and bright, the color of life alive.
So is she
Tall, warm, smiling and full of life.
Many a man has died
Perhaps knowing that she is what he protected,
Or thousands of women just like her.
She knows,
Because she went to battle herself
Right alongside the men that died.
But now she is busy.
Doing what she wants to do,
Her practise in her red patent leather shoes.
She sees me
Observing her.
Her soft, brown and hard eyes smile,
Spreading to her warm and pink lips.
Taller than most women,
Her hair in bangs,
Framing her face.
She finishes her practice routine,
Steps out of her red shoes
And goes into the shower.
I pick up her shoes,
And breathe in
The traces of her persona.
Darling
I still have your red shoes,
And can still breathe in
Some traces of your persona.
Why have you left this warrior
For another?
poem by Lonely People Champion
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Wine, Women, and Song
As I walk through the stifling heat,
with no shoes upon my feet
I search for wine, women, and song
as I tread hopefully along.
Sweat is pouring and my face is sore
I don’t know if I can take much more.
Where is the wine, women, and song
something’s missing, something’s wrong?
It’s so oppressively hot around here
surely by now I should be getting near.
I can sense the wine, women, and song
I do hope it won’t be long.
I’ve caught a whiff of Chanel perfume,
a sure sign that I’ll be arriving soon.
But where’s the wine, women, and song
that I’ve been searching for so long?
For days I’ve followed the confusing smell
and its made me realise that I’m in hell.
Sadly there is no wine, women, and song,
and this road I walk is eternally long.
poem by Orlando Belo
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In grey days
Measures of oil for others,
Oil and red wine,
Lips laugh and drink, but never
Are the lips mine.
Worlds at the feet of others,
Power gods have known,
Hearts for the favoured round me
Mine beats, alone.
Fame offering to others
Chaplets of bays,
I with no crown of laurels,
Only grey days.
Sweet human love for others,
Deep as the sea,
God-sent unto my neighbour--
But not to me.
Sometime I'll wrest from others
More than all this,
I shall demand from Heaven
Far sweeter bliss.
What profit then to others,
Laughter and wine?
I'll have what most they covet--
Death, will be mine.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Parody Song
Parody Song for Lute and Harp
The cobbler who mended the princess´s shoes
Fell in love with her feet and declared his love.
But the princess was quite chocked, said…no.
Sad cobbler sat in his shop repairing waders,
Farmer clogs and polished officers riding boots
The cobbler who mended the princess´s shoes.
The princess had shoes to repair, sent a servant,
But the cobbler needed her feet to make a fit.
He fell in love with her feet and declared his love.
He mended her shoes touched her ankles to make
Sure the shoes fit and the princess´s was thrilled
Made him a courtier of her dainty ankles and feet.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Let others drink
Let others drink beer, wine, brandy
and whiskey
and I will pour a glass of cool drink
and disappear when they are drunk.
Hangovers and retching
and cars that collide
and thoughtlessness,
may later come to regrets.
White, yellow, crimson and any colour wine
can perhaps let reality fade away
for a time,
but being sober, in control
is much better than any pain.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sweet Wine
Sweet wine
Lets feast and dine
Sweet wine
Tickle my taste buds
Sweet wine
Sharpen my senses
Make them finer than fine
Sweet wine
Red and white stay in line
Till I give you the sign
That you are mine
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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A Single Rose
She wants a poem
Read to her by candlelight
While she sits at a small table
This would be sheer delight
She would like live music too
In the background I suppose
A stark white tablecloth with
A single rose
Don't forget the wine
A white wine '03 or '02
Slightly chilled
Will do
This should be a special poem
One she could say is mine
If she only knew a poet
Regardless of the rhyme
Who will read it to her
Does he need special clothes
Or just a sincere voice and a wine glass
To go with the single rose
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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White Boy
Black boys employ salassie
We kiss we define
White hands white hearts
The gender
How can I make you mine
Take me to god
In a world of blank kisses
Who breaks the colours
I know what this is
A one man show
Thats how we know
Thats how we know
Your white does the blood flow
Chorus:
Your white dance like an enemy
Your white dance like an enemy
Your white dance like an enemy
White boys fall out
In a whirl of decisions
Show me what is
Then show me what isnt
A heart too slow
Thats how we know
Thats how we know
Your white does the blood flow
(chorus)
Youre so white
Youre so white
White boy (x6)
White boy dance
Do something sweet
Like pull my heart
Like use your feet
Like steal some culture
Lets fake this dance
A white boy kiss
A white boy chance
Dont take me over
Abuse my heart
When I change colour Im here stop start
Hey devil kiss me
Im taking chances
Not faking my culture
The rythym it dances
I love your wisdom
I love your mind
White boys are babys (not my kind)
This lust in fashion
Thats my sin
By falling out
Were falling in
Now Im broken
Watch it flow
Im taking over
Cant let go (falling out with the bad boys)
song performed by by Culture Club
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning Feet
No standing with these burning feet
I got to kill the the fire
Got to kill the heat
I see a road and a river
I gotta go
'cos there's fire in my shoes
And you're moving too slow
For these burning feet
I got to move
Burning feet
Need a cool groove
Burning feet
Win or lose
Looking to kill the heat
Oh these burning shoes
One day they'll find me in pieces,
By the side of the track
Smoke trail behind me,
Flames from my back
This is what made me,
Yeah how I was made
Forever, in the heat
And never in the shade
Of these burning feet
Burning feet
I got to move
Burning feet
Need a cool groove
Burning feet
Win or lose
Looking to kill the heat
Oh these burning shoes
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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