feet

NaPoWriMo 2024, Day 22, The Battle of Sandy and Boots

Happy Earth Day, everyone. “Earthshoes® notwithstanding, today’s prompt had me writing a poem in which two (unlikely) things have a fight. I’m not sure how “unlikely” a boot and sandal fight may be, but there is much to be said and written about when it comes to our taste in footwear.

The Battle of Sandy and Boots

Beauty and the Beast were sound asleep
when the lights went on in the closet—
tongues were heard flapping
as stomping and kicking created a donnybrook.

Boots said loudly, “We are the important ones.
The protectors and comforters. And the classy
preference of designer pedestrians. We are
the preferred wear of all feet. Down with
sandals and their flimsy glitzy flip-flops.”

Sandy boasted, “Girls in beautiful dresses,
wearing ugly combat boots and brogans,
Ughhglay! Y’all are on a fall from glory
and our sexy footwear are gaining favor.”

Boots protested, “Such sleeky strappies
are no good in combat—too flim-flam,
too airy, too weak to protect her tootsies.”

Sandy sandal pointed, “See those Ho Chi Minhs?
Lightweight! lightning fast!! Swift and quiet
in the night, waterproof, cheap as used tires.
And they’ll take any beating
into the next millennium.
We emphasize the beauty of feet better
than any boots or shoes, for those who care.”

Boots was getting louder and claimed,
“We do cowboys, steel-toed workers,
clodhoppers and happy Aggie senior
jodhpur riding class boots. Red wings
and Wellingtons, and even-mo-sexeh
stiletto knee boots.
Biker boots, moon boots, and doc martins.
We’re gunna kick y’all’s heels into the dirt.”

Sandy jumped from the shelf,
tightened her ankle straps, and yelled,
“Ok you wingtip nutcases. Fight’s on.
You started this. Let the best of function
and beauty be the favored reign below the knee.”

Suddenly she was joined by gladiators
and Roman sandals, slides and mules slipped in.
Platforms stood with a group of wovens and
the Mexican Huaraches played mariachi music.
Jelly sandals got stiff and were joined by fishermen
and hiking sandals.
The slave sandals yelled for “freedom and fit.”

The boots just lost it and jumped from the shelf
to the floor with a loud bang ready to stomp all sandals
into the sole of submission. But then, a voice was heard.

“Beast, why is the light in the closet on? Did you
hear something?
Our shoes are a mess all over the floor.
I think we must have slept though another earthquake.
We may need to quake-proof this closet, Honey.
Beasty Baby, get up and help me straighten up this mess.
It’s like the battle of footwear was fought
in our closet tonight.”

Look both ways as much vertically as horizontally.
Mind the new gaps because sensible shoes do not need to look like mid-fifties grannies.
Don’t go barefoot into the walk of life.

To explain: Seniors in the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M University wear jodhpurs and knee high, brown, riding boots with spurs.

 

 

NaPoWriMo 2024, Day 9, Ode to Shoes

As if I was Dear old Pablo, Keats, Shelly, or Sharon Olds, I’m to write an ode celebrating some everyday object. We have arrived at Day Nine of the annual challenge of writing 30 poems in 30 days (in April). I try to compose to the tune of Maureen Thorson’s National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) prompts.

I looked it up. An ode is a lyric poem usually marked by exaltation of feeling and style, varying length of line, and complexity of stanza forms. Generally, odes show respect for or celebrate the worth of something. I picked shoes for this poem and have likewise paid homage to my shoes (click to read it) in the past.

Ode to Shoes

I don’t recall them all,
My shoes and theirs,
the big and the small.
I poemed about one
old faithful pair,
but every day
my shoes are there.
In childhood,
ones for church
and everyday ones.
I have 12 pairs now,
that’s few
compared to some
like the dictator’s wife,
famous for so many
(and little else).

Special ones:
combat or flight boots, hiking, walking,
running; and those god damn shiny Corfam oxfords,
or polished patent leather (or high-gloss plastic for my laziness);
house shoes, golf, football (cleats),
leather, and motorcycle boots,
protective shoes
and fashion footwear, too.

Sandals, flipflops, mules, and
post pedicure odd—one-time use flipflop-ish-es with toe spreaders,
sexy stilettoes
and smelly LGBTQ+ or not
Birkenstocks,
fetish shoes bring pleasure,
while golden shoes
promise treasure.
Wingtips for boomers,
granny shoes for nuns,
shoeless folks: singers,
runners (marathoners),
dancers, poets, cave men and women,
shoeless Joe Jackson,
and shoes that made the rich richer.
Glass shoes with fairy tales,
magic shoes, and you will run faster, promised shoes.

Corrective shoes and recovery
or protective boots and shoes,
so many!—too many kinds
and types and styles and purposes,
but all shoes for us to use.

I’m wearing shoes, slippers to some,
and I am wondering if we the people
have more shoes than any other
article of clothing (I don’t),
but why the hell not?

The wonderful, useful, purposeful,
functional, beautiful, sexy, ugly, everything—
there may not be such a thing
as the ordinary everyday shoe anymore.

Look both ways and wear good shoes
(whatever they are, appropriate mukluks, perhaps).
Mind the gaps because even cliff climbers have their own
(bicyclists do too) special kind of shoe.