Tuesday, January 22, 2013

No Prompt Poetry....


I can hear them coming....
Those short, menacing steps.
Be still my racing heart!
Then silence.
Released from your Stiletto prison, you can finally
Breathe deep and wiggle freely...My paroled fixation.
My ruby red lolipops.
Whats fuels this unnatural obsession?
The dank smell of sweaty leather and talcom powder?
Maybe....
Caught up in a vortex of unexplained preoccupation
You let yourself sink into an abyss of Vera Wang and Nine West.
Waiting...
Waiting patiently for the staccato of...Those short, menacing steps.


The preceding was an example of Obsessive Poetry.
NOT Fetish Poetry!
There's a difference....Really!




9 comments:

Brian Miller said...

haha...or obsessive fetish...smiles...free the dogs...let them loose from the confines of the shoes..let me see toes...smiles.

razzamadazzle said...

I'm not sure. You might have just crossed the line...

Mama Zen said...

Made my toes curl, G-Man!

lime said...

howdo ya feel about the slap/flop of a pair of birkenstocks? hehehehe

g-man said...

Brian...I concur.
Teresa.... What line? The Mason/Dixon?
Mama Zen.... Stop teasing me!
Trini... I dunno, is it 1970?

the walking man said...

Never had balance as good as your Galen. I'll stick to open toed flats if that's alright, I know they don't make that same crotch stepping sound as heels do but then I kick not stab.

Akelamalu said...

Excellent insight, do you wear high heels???? ;)

Shadow said...

ha ha ha, love this. i can almost hear those clicking heels on a wooden floor... coming nearer... out to get you?!?!

Margaret said...

My girls and I love high heels... I just can't wear them every day like I used to. I'm lucky if I put a pair on once a month.. usually I have my barn boots on these days ;)