These boots were made for walkin’

I just can't part with them
my two pairs of toe-shoes, now
forty years old
and (still) neatly packed away
in the box of memories
I can't dump, either.

"Maybe someday, I'll put them back on
and dance again"

Maybe I'll get back the chance
to audition for the Boston Ballet, too
like they requested of me
(in writing)
forty years ago, when
I hung up my dance shoes

....because....

Looking at boogers
and other fluids from the body
under microscopes
was far more thrilling
for my seventeen year old mind
than taking a chance at something
I was sure I'd fail at.

I made my choice
built my world
but I could have kept dancing, too.

I stood alone In a world of laughter
friends playful glee at my bare feet
my eyes fixed envious on my friends
flaunting their gleaming school shoes

they laughed at my bare feet
as tears streamed down my face
everyday as I walked to school
it was a lonely place

teachers turned a blind eye
knowing my family didn't care
if we were schooled or not
if shoes be the caveat, stay home

my classmates laughed and demeaned
sometimes stamping on my bare toes
school was important to me for the books
so I sobbed in my heart each day

a twist unforeseen fate had a plan
the headmaster's transfer to another school
he sent a box through my brother
the headmaster's treasures were mine

Within the box books aplenty
of strong man and cats, princesses and magic
tales of adventures from far away land
happiness suffused my thin frame

and wonders Cinderella's godmother
paled to my headmaster's generosity
for among those boundless tales,
a pair of white school shoes glimmered

With trembling hands I touched them
tears down my cheeks, smile on my lips
I slipped them on and how it fitted
snug as if it was made for me

I arose feeling the clown cape slide
I walked confident in my stride
no more shall they laugh and deride
the colour of my mud caked feet

I walked with pride, my steps so sure
into the classrooms and silence ensued
I was no longer defined by what I lacked
but through the subjects that I passed

the laughter faded and the tears subsided
my white school shoes was a platform
for me to stand tall and strong
and face the tide of childhood tribulations.

 
A long time ago my wife gifted me a pair of shoes
I remember they were my first with memory foam
Now I’m writing a poem to those old blue Sketchers
And honestly, they were the best pair I ever owned
 
It wasn’t just the comfort, color or style
But they were best pair to have on the road
All the miles I logged every time I jogged
Felt smooth and soft with each step in control
 
And the times when I didn’t have my music
With just the sound of my breathing and feet
Watching the sun rise over the mountains
It felt like I could accomplish any feat
 
Until one day in the rain I stepped on a puddle
I felt the old soles had finally met their fate
The Sketchers had surely been worn down
And so I said goodbye to my running mates
 

I was there when you had nowt,    
as hard as the streets    
split dry cracks down the backs    
drinking dubbin      
like half time oranges.    
     
You where ashamed to take me out    
I saw those molded smirks.    
The painted laughter of three white stripes    
washed away on wet grass,    
you left me in the dark, dirty and damp.    
     
I understood the lure of soft and supply,    
the flash of colour, always a substitute,    
 but I had my time,    
the speedy tap dance of leather to leather    
a trawlers catch bulging  in the net.    
     
We both made the most    
of those five minute moments.   
I know we were cheap and angry    
ready to take skin and blood samples  
from anyone who stared too long,  
but you wanted me that way  
and I wanted to see you smile.  
 
 
   
   
      
     
     
     
     
     
     
 

 
Vain statements they just lie in wait
Proclaimed platforms doubled as a pair
Their audaciousness won’t hesitate
Firey steps the wearer dares.
 
Bring power as you strike a pose!
Raised expectations, as your worlds a stage
Makes you walk with a brandished vouge.
For their effect can’t be assuaged  
 
An elevation that is not just physical
From the ground floor up, on the radar
For their effect are somehow mythical
Brave Foothold for the shining crusader  
 
Skyscraper heels make the ego fly
Her red soles by Christian Louboutin
Pain, but the price is never to high
 That Homicide style can never be wrong

Those lace up boots  
Memory of doc martens  
I had a black pair  
Joe 90 had cherry  
I first met him letting off firecrackers in his hand and he told me the secret to having balls was hidden in bohemian rhapsody  
I could never work it out  
Sometimes we swapped one boot for one  
How people stared as we stomped around town with mismatched boots, dressed in black  
Getting high on rum and coke  
Also from the smoke  
Motorbike madness  
200 kph what a rush  
Then you told me you liked to close your eyes at that moment  
Like a slow blink  
Just to get even more of a rise  
And when you took off those permanently shaded prescription glasses you had large, heavy lidded, vulnerable blue eyes the girls loved  
They loved a bad boy  
Scoob, you too had the DM's  
The uniform of 'the boys'  
Hoons, munters, drop outs  
Your place was the hang out, the piss up, the party, your mum was never there. The sleepouts, the old caravan, the long drop.  
You were the first boy to have a nose ring back in school, you took no shit from anyone and drew the meanest skull tattoo  
Jobless wasters, hopefully getting high by midday, drunk as the sun went down over the bay, speeding in a car with a keg of beer. Bonnet surfing, donuts at the lilly ponds, burnouts at the lookout  
Joe and Scoob. Yous two didn't grow up, I got a job  
I wasn't in the car  
You knew the road Joe!  
That corner is a killer you pushed it to far  
One motto of 'the boy's' was 'No vegetables!'  
You know how flesh can be smashed in a car crash?  
Never wore seatbelts, not in the remit  
Four boys, half men, two dead, one with short term memory loss, another walks with a limp.  
Joe 90 and Scoob  
Share a grave  
Buried in their leather jackets and boots  
Love you guys  
RIP