Just started typing whatever came out of my head and flowed down my shoulders through my arms and into my hands and jump off of my fingers.


A Flip Flop Fable

Once upon a time there was a woman who had flip flops for shoes.
She had a car and two feet but still could not move.
She was stuck between her choices, a crazy place to be.
So she climbed up a palm and built a house tree
She used all the fronds to make a roof o're her head
And tied them together with vines that were dead.
She read lots of books and thought about life
For she once was a daughter, a mother, and a wife.
Now all had changed; she had nothing to do
But to sit around moping, thinking of a pair of real shoes.
As the sun set to the west and the time for rest was near,
She listened carefully to what she could hear.
As faint as a ghost on a foggy night,
She saw swinging freely a curious sight.
Right there between one frond and another
Was a pair of sneakers which once belonged to her mother.
They had been tossed over the dangling electric wire.
A sign that set an idea on fire.
It burned in her brain like a forest ablaze;
The smoked-filled air was a thick smothering haze.
She thought awhile with nothing to say
But took those shoes down and wears them today.
Her tree house is gone and so the wire.
All were eaten by a very peculiar fire.
Watch the street if you will for something left in a pack.
For she left her flip flops inside it and she never looked back.
Her hair is a mess, charred, and smokey
But she now has a home, some shoes, doing time in the pokey.
Though hurricanes blow and lightening strikes,
She's doing her time flying arsonous kites.




Poetry by Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 701 times
Written on 2014-06-28 at 02:33

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Phyllis J. Rhodes
Love this! I can clearly picture a certain woman whose inner child sometimes steps up and reminds her of how much fun she had and how much she accomplished as a child by following her impulses.
2015-01-14


Janine>K
how I've missed your poems!! enjoyed reading this poem.
2014-11-12


France England
We never lose connection with what is dear to us for it hides in many forms to shield us from the verbal and burnning sun called life. You've taken the past, dusted it off and set a new trail to blaze in the forefront. The flip-flops now have stability; traded in for a real pair of shoes. Now the pavement of east, west, north and south can be explored without rocks or splinter. Thank you for coming down from your tree house, changing shoes, taking life by the tail and returning to the table for a feast of good friends and a tall glasses of friendly cheer! You sure know how to poetically speak your hear and mind. Excellent write, very well expressed and vivid in its presentation.
2014-06-30


shells
Loved this, it runs and flows with originality, humour and truth, we have all seen those shoes ;-)
2014-06-28


Ashe
You did very well. I've seen those shoes hanging from electric lines and have wondered about people without shoes. Perhaps barrels can be provided for leftover shoes to avoid incidents like this! Anyway, "all's well that ends well," and she is cozy in jail. :-)
2014-06-28


Rob Graber
Those darn "arsonous kites"! I like, too, the phrase "stuck between her choices."
2014-06-28