These old shoes
they got the blues
seen too many miles
a soul worn-through
a perpendicular life
under the impersonal lights
together they are forever tied
finally
up, up and…
over the telephone wires.
Where Words Collide & Metaphors Are Mixed
These old shoes
they got the blues
seen too many miles
a soul worn-through
a perpendicular life
under the impersonal lights
together they are forever tied
finally
up, up and…
over the telephone wires.
To me, this read like a song. I swear I could hear bluegrass playing in the background.. lovely, as per usual.
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you’re too kind, thank you very much 🙂
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Sounds like a pair of sole mates tied up by design, never by choice, contemplating a crime …
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Nice! I especially like how you flipped the wordplay over. 🙂 And thank you for reading again. 🙂
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You write like someone born to go over the telephone wires. The starting place for such journeys…
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Thank you very much Woodsy, I do appreciate your reading and your thoughts. 🙂
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I peer up at those lonely shoes cast upwards and being blamed for their state.
Hung dreadfully, feeling the rain, freezing in the snow.
They know there’s no way to come down.
They’ve weathered too much already.
This is an awesome poem Tom ! Very very creative and I love the last line up, “up and over the telephone wires”. That is a great ending. I love poems about objects . They are some of favorites 🙂
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They’ve weathered too much already… love that.
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Thank you 🙂 honest to god I love your and scrunchs poetry. It’s so inspiring 🙂
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Funny…
though I have passed a few wires with shoes tied to them, I read this as a piece about so much other stuff from the first line.
Sometimes, when soneone writes, their “other” stuff leaks out from word one, snatching the reader along with it.
(If my shoes were up there on the telephone wires, they’d probably start getting more calls than me).
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So here we are –
the “weathered too much”…
care worn
and hair worn,
wiping the feet of our prophets and stars
with our tears.
The weathered and worn,
soaked in the rain that rolls down from the hills…
when our shoes are too sodden to walk in the rain,
and our hearts are too sodden to stand in our pain…
Renewed and rebuilding,
sentence by sentence,
word over word…
The”weathered too much”…
wiping the feet of our prophets and stars…
feeding the oceans again.
(hugely grateful to both you dudes)
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I’m grateful too, both for your support and for sharing your own work. 🙂 I read this one a couple of times, splashed around in the watery metaphors, let it all sink in…
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