Skip to main content

Flashback Writing #3–My Converse Shoes

I stroke the fabric of your withering all-star frame.
Red, red, red shoes.
And who'd have thought?
I had boring sneakers previously,
Before you.
And then I saw an ad, a colorful array of Converse shoes splayed out upon the page.
Lots of colors, but my eyes could only focus on one pair.
Red. Red. Red shoes.
I took a chance, stepping outside my normal fashion realms.
And suddenly I realized--
Who cared about my disproportionate bony toes,
When enveloped inside a stylish crimson case?
Adorned with 
brand
new
  fresh
  white 
  laces. Beautiful!
Red, Red, Red shoes.
I remember you dangling beneath me,
On a roller-coaster inside the magic of Disneyland Park, soaring over the Mickey Mouse hats beneath us.
I remember afternoon walks after a rainy day, when the air is thick and fresh with moisture. 
unreservedly we leapt into the joyous wet of a thick mud puddle.
Perhaps the best of all, was when I wore you on a date,
with that handsome young man;
I remember you taking me out on the dance floor,
Pulsing with confidence--Vibrant with flame,
and I didn't care if I wasn't a student at The Pointe! I let my feet fly anyways,
graceful or not.
Red, Red, Red shoes.
And here you are now, after all those memories.
Trashy, beat up, worn, and beautiful.
And I'll still wear you, as long as you last,
My flaming converse shoes.


Written in 2010

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Problem with Chick Flicks.

I really, really, really enjoy a select few movies that I willingly watch over and over again. Pride and Prejudice is one of them. You see, Elizabeth's defense of her family, her sense of self respect, her ability to admit that she was wrong and to appreciate Darcy despite all his quirks, and quizzical brow-ness... it's marvelous. My husband doesn't share the sentiment, could you tell? ... and that's okay. There's rare a chick flick I enjoy near as much as I enjoy Pride and Prejudice or A Walk To Remember , and I wanted to explain why. You see, there's more than just a few problems with (many, not all) chick flicks:  (and if you have a chick flick that escapes many of these pitfalls then please oh please leave it's title in the comment section!) The heroine (or suitor) is less than honorable. I have a hard time rooting for a girl to get a gentleman when she's spending her time being scandalously loose with other men ( #thenotebook) . An...

Have You Ever Read a Book That Made You Grieve? Rejoice? Weep?

Have you ever read a book that spoke so deeply to your soul that you wept while you read it, couldn't put it down even for the pain, and thought about it for days after you finished? I have. I've been fortunate to wander upon many books that have done such for me, but the most recent literary treasure of this variety in my life has been "Between Shades of Gray" by Ruta Sepetys. I don't want to give much away, but I will say this: this book brought to my awareness of the WWII era histories of many Estonian, Latvian, and Lithuanian people. Previous to this novel I was aware that Jews (and other persecuted groups alongside them such as gypsies, the intellectually disabled and homosexuals) were victims of holocaust crimes under Hitler. But I was not aware that Stalin held his own "cleanse" and subjected millions of people to labor, cruelty, and death. The reason why I loved this book was because of the humanity and true charity many victims chose ...

Where's Number Three

A neighbor in her mid-thirties. A woman in her seventies. Their single commonality? They both asked me: Where's number three? I have a son, his name Charlie And then McKay, he's not quite three In my heart, both fit perfectly Yet others ask: Where's number three? Perhaps it's that I miscarried, My spouse's infidelity, The ache of infertility, A battle raging mentally, Illness on a crippling spree, Our family is complete, maybe. The reason's one or more of these, Yet you dare ask: Where's number three? In this question, running free Are judgements, jeering icily "You're not enough, Mik, can't you see? Buck up and give us number three!" I used to flounder, squirm, agree Or curl up small, cry, and plead. With time, I've seen things differently. I won't explain for number three. The questions of maternity Are just between my spouse and me And Parents, guiding Heavenly So please don't ask: Where's number three? Artwork Credit: Be...