Because my socks were wet
That day, when clouds were frowning
And the ants and the antelopes were drowning
The almighty deciding to have a bath
And the rooftops feeling the sky’s wrath
I got a bad ache in head
Allowing me to stick to my bed
When it went indispensable
I moved towards my table
Hoping to see some help
I made a small yell
Deciding by myself then to buy a tablet
But I couldn’t have my shoes because my socks were wet
Yes, that day the master of hell had a laugh
To see my condition so rough
…Because my socks were wet
Someone I had to meet the other day
The sun was shining by my bay
I ran towards the stop but was late
I had stepped into a ditch and my socks went wet
Yes the devil smirked again
As he found his ultimate gain
…because my socks were wet
Once visiting my god’s place
“Temple” they call it in general phrase
We had a long chat
Impressed by my ballad
He decided not to let me go
He contacted his biggest foe
Arrangements were made
Plans were laid
When I bid my goodbye
He smiled and just sighed
My shoes were stolen from his portal
He just wished me to be mortal
I ran, and ran in haste
It rained heavy that eve and made my run a waste
The two geniuses partied and partied till late
…because again my socks were wet
poem by Anurag Chaudhary
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Related quotes
Ode to My Socks
Mara Mori brought me
a pair of socks
which she knitted herself
with her sheepherder's hands,
two socks as soft as rabbits.
I slipped my feet into them
as if they were two cases
knitted with threads of twilight and goatskin,
Violent socks,
my feet were two fish made of wool,
two long sharks
sea blue, shot through
by one golden thread,
two immense blackbirds,
two cannons,
my feet were honored in this way
by these heavenly socks.
They were so handsome for the first time
my feet seemed to me unacceptable
like two decrepit firemen,
firemen unworthy of that woven fire,
of those glowing socks.
Nevertheless, I resisted the sharp temptation
to save them somewhere as schoolboys
keep fireflies,
as learned men collect
sacred texts,
I resisted the mad impulse to put them
in a golden cage and each day give them
birdseed and pieces of pink melon.
Like explorers in the jungle
who hand over the very rare green deer
to the spit and eat it with remorse,
I stretched out my feet and pulled on
the magnificent socks and then my shoes.
The moral of my ode is this:
beauty is twice beauty
and what is good is doubly good
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool in winter.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Portis and Coco
Where the hell are my socks?
I have no more
Portis and Coco
are at it again
all are torn, I can't wear them
Portis, the pit
Coco the Shepoo
playing tug of war
with my socks
so it's back to the store
I'ts never enough
to play with a toy
they still get the joy
for some reason, to sniff with my jocks and
tear up my socks
poem by Matt Mondschein
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Socks, Shoes and Feet
Socks, shoes and
feet
Where they bring
me
Thou shall speak
Soul
Who are you
Who
Thou shall we
meet
I alone am
I
Alone whom else
Who
There's so many
And
There's I alone
Shall
We walk again
Socks, Shoes and
Feet
poem by Jay Reynolds
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You 'Were' Looking For Your Shoes
I can not find my socks.
Who misplaced them?
And why are they not in my sight?
'Grandpa? '
WHAT IS IT! ?
'I've spotted your socks.'
Okay.
Then where are they?
'Grandpa...
They are on your feet.'
Oh.
Well...
Who put them there?
'You did grandpa.
Just before you said,
You 'were' looking for your shoes.'
What are you trying to say?
You know where they are too?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Can Feel...
she said:
'you're not a poet,
you're just an old man...
old hat, old beard,
even your socks are old! '
'yes, and my socks
are full of holes...
when i walk across
the bare floor i can feel...'
and therein lies
the poetry!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A girl in leather shoes
I am a girl in leather shoes
without socks, a girl who has
no need of socks, a girl
who has few friends-
but doesn't need any.
A strong girl, with real opinions
in her head; sockless in her leather shoes,
a girl whose stride is purposeful,
feet secure inside the leather,
a girl who wears nothing artificial,
who takes in nothing not genuine-
And if she should ever sweat,
this brave, sockless girl,
who knows exactly where she is going
safe in her leather
and her strong opinions-
she would never, never let it show.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Laundry Spirits
Laundry spirits all around
Stealing things without a sound
When I hang my washing out
Something missing there’s no doubt
An odd sock here an odd sock there
Drives me almost to despair
I wonder if in days gone by
Did my great gran have this, if not why?
Is my washing machine possessed?
Eating socks I do not jest
Doesn’t matter where I look
There’s certainly a mysterious spook
So laundry spirit in the sky
Please give me a reason why
A pair of socks I can understand
But just for one what is your plan?
I’m buying socks that look the same
So I can make up pairs again
So I will have one fewer grey hair
And stop you driving me to despair
08 03 2009
Chellaston
poem by Jim O'Donnell
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Wear My Hat
She came looking for me with her arms open wide,
Like some long lost friend of mine.
She said excuse me, but do you remember me ?
I said no, I dont believe I do
So she looked me up and down
And undressed me with her eyes,
Then she said youve got everything I need, youve got everything I want
So I said ok,
You can wear my hat,
You can have my coat,
You can take my shirt
cos I dont need it.
You can wear my shoes,
You can take my socks,
Come on take my bag its yours
If you love it,
You can have it if you love it,
Aint no problem if you love it,
Come on take it if you love it.
So her friend came up to me
With a pen and paper in her hand,
Expressing some interest in the number of my room,
She said excuse me, but do you remember me?
I said no, she said can I appeal to you?
So I looked her up and down
And realising her insinuations I blushed
She said listen babe you dont know me,
No you dont know me but you owe me,
And I love you,
Yes I love you,
Put your arms around me cos I love you,
I got all your records and I love you
So I suggested
You can wear my hat,
You can have my coat,
You can take my shirt
cos I dont need it.
You can wear my shoes,
You can take my socks,
Come on take my bag its yours
If you love it,
You can have it if you love it,
Aint no problem if you love it,
Come on take it if you love it.
Well later on that day this guy came to me
With a scrap of paper in his hand
He said hey buddy can you sign your name for me?
I said why, do I owe you money? he said no
I said listen pal do I know you? have we ever met?
Why do you want my name on this little piece of paper?
He said i love you,
I dont know you but I love you,
Like my brother I love you,
Put your arms around me cos I love you
I said hey lets not rush things
You can wear my hat,
You can have my coat,
You can take my shirt
cos I dont need it.
You can wear my shoes,
You can take my socks,
Come on take my bag its yours
If you love it,
You can have it if you love it,
Aint no problem if you love it,
Come on take it if you love it.
You can wear my hat,
You can wear my hat,
You can wear my hat,
Come on wear my hat.
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Momma's Little Baby
Baby lost her button but she
found her gold
Too stressed to rest
like mothers in full moon
Has everything gone bad
or is just nothing good?
And you say, 'Oh oh oh'
'Is it all that you know? '
'Oh oh oh, ' Momma's baby
has gone to war
There are socks by your pillow
there are acrobats in your bed
Another blue orgy another long night
as long as we feel guilty
I guess it’s alright
and you say, 'Oh oh oh'
'Is it all that we know? '
'Oh oh oh, ' Momma's baby
has gone to war
I'd like to say I am
a left shouldered man
But the devil on my right
speaks my language too well
I’m spinning drunk here in my circles
seeing angels in hell
And they say, 'Momma's little baby
has gone to war'
'Oh oh oh Momma's baby
has gone to war'
Now with only good thoughts
maybe I can catch you
There are no socks by my pillow
No thoughts on my shoulders
No sex in the sheets until the war is over
and so germs are all we wanted
but I’ll take your love too
Whatever it is you want
I guess I want it too
and you, 'say Oh oh oh, '
'I barely know you ya know'
'Oh oh oh, ' Momma's baby
has gone to war
poem by Judd David
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vegetable Man
In yellow shoes I get the blues
Though I walk the streets with my plastic feet
With my blue velvet trousers, make me feel pink
Theres a kind of stink about blue velvet trousers
In my paisley shirt I look a jerk
And my turquoise waistcoat is quite out of sight
But oh oh my haircut looks so bad
Vegetable man how are you?
So Ive changed my dear, and I find my knees,
And I covered them up with the latest cut,
And my pants and socks all point in a box,
They dont make long of my nylon socks,
The watch, black watch
My watch with a black face
And a big pin, a little hole,
And all the lot is what I got,
Its what I wear, its what you see,
It must be me, its what I am,
Vegetable man.
Ive been looking all over the place for a place for me,
But it aint anywhere, it just aint anywhere.
Vegetable man, vegetable man,
Hes the kind of person, you just gonna see him if you can,
Vegetable man.
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Must Go Down To The Sea Again
I must go down to the sea again,
to the lonely sea and the sky;
I left my shoes and socks there -
I wonder if they're dry?
poem by Spike Milligan
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The Visitor
it came today to visit
and moved into the house
it was smaller than an elephant
but larger than a mouse
first it slapped my sister
then it kicked my dad
then it pushed my mother
oh! that really made me mad
it went and tickled rover
and terrified the cat
it sliced apart my necktie
and rudely crushed my hat
it smeared my head with honey
and filled the tub with rocks
and when i yelled in anger
it stole my shoes and socks
that's just the way it happened
it happened all today
before it bowed politely
and softly went away
poem by Jack Prelutsky
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French Shoes
He was a good lookin guy
Stood about six foot three
Long brown hair
As nice as he could be
Everybody liked him
But he didnt have a clue
He looked silly as hell
In those funny french shoes
You know the type
Without any heels
Leather soles
Kind of a slip on deal
He was cavalier
Whether hed win or lose
But he looked silly as hell
In those funny french shoes
I know its not right
To judge a man by his clothes
By the way that he looks
Or the people he may know
Im embarrassed to say
If I had to choose
I could never really trust
Any man wearing those funny french shoes
Funny french shoes
Funny french shoes
No man should be wearin
Those funny french shoes
They look good on a womans foot
I must say that they do
But no guy should be wearin
Those funny french shoes
Get some socks on, man!
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Hair!
You've already taken my lunch, my socks, my long-distance binocs,
Now what do you want?
More Hair!
My jeans, my spleens, my workout magazines,
They're gone, now you want?
More Hair!
I gave you my gum, cilium, chromium,
my green shoes, my feet shoes, my mangy old street shoes,
Come on, you want?
More Hair!
Give me my CDs, my TVs, my Wheaties and my Levi's.
Know what I'll give you?
More Hair!
poem by John W. McEwers
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Notes To An Amnesiac
memories are made of these
Your keys
Odd socks left on the washing line
names on a list in a book
You cannot find
That lost glove
Pushed under the carpet
Or the note you wrote about your lover
Before you ever met or even touched
And the television is turned to neutral
As you listen
And unlisten
To the radio in your head
Your dinner is left congealed
Your books dusty and unread
The puzzle
Full of words you no longer understand
The alien has landed in a foreign land
Memories are made of these
The keys you lost
The odd socks
The lists full of lists left behind
And you feel like you 're losing your mind
Forgetting it all as you go to the door
Leaving the keys on the side
Dropping a glove in the floor
Losing the name of the street where you live
Forgetting what you're living for!
poem by Yvette Smith
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In Taking Death Lightly As Possible...
it can simply be reduced
taking out from your tired feet
your old shoes
and socks
and then walking barefoot
towards your bed for you to take that sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Walls
Im not ashamed
To say that Ive loved you well
Im not ashamed
To let you know
Im just a name thats all
Scratched upon your wall
Youve used it well but what the hell
Thats what walls are for
Im not ashamed
To listen to the fast-fallin rain
In the morning upon my window
Im not afraid to cry
Im not ashamed to try
To be your friend once again
cause thats whats friends are for
Friends are for sorting out the hang-ups that we hide
Walls are for shutting out the love we feel inside
Im not ashamed no to talk it over once again
To rearrange my vocabulary
But I cant seem to find
Any words to change your mind
Because I left them all behind
And thats what words are for
Words are for explaining the mistakes we might have made
Names are for calling when theres nothing left to say
Im not ashamed, no, to say that Ive loved you well
Im not ashamed, and yet I know
Im just a name, thats all
Scratched upon your wall
Youve used it well, but what the hell
Thats what walls are for
Im not ashamed of wearing out my old grey socks
Chasing you around the back woods
Im not ashamed to darn
Nor to proud to find some yarn
To sew them up once again
cause thats what socks are for
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Four Minutes
Tuesday morning half past eight
that's the time that I awake
see the shadows on the wall
hear the early morning call,
Draw my breath and wipe my eyes
I'll arise at 35
the time just now is 31
tuesday morning has begun,
Think of all that I must do
the time is nearly 32
I'm going to have a busy day
tuesday mornings under way,
Sitting up I greet the dawn
and wonder where my socks have gone
the time has just left 33
tuesday morning's mad at me,
I see my socks upon the floor
the time just now is 34
tuesday morning is no more.
Written after the realization that we would only get four minutes warning of nuclear holocaust.
poem by Charles M. Moore
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Choose your friends by their character and your socks by their color. Choosing your socks by their character makes no sense, and choosing your friends by their color is unthinkable.