Tag Archives: walking

How to Walk Like a Zombie

Pick an ideal spring day, late April
or early May, the air spanking clean,
the sky deep blue and serene
after an AM thunderstorm,
not too cold, not too warm
(low seventies?) with a hint
of breeze. Leave your iPod behind
and set off with your mind
on other things; the key
is to proceed automatically.
Keep walking—blind to tulips
and neighbors waving as you pass.
Keep walking—deaf to children
and robins digging in the grass.
Keep walking—dumb to everything
but your inner conversations,
and when you get back home again,
ask yourself where have I been?
Impossible to tell? Congratulations!
You’ve brainwalked well.

This poem is from NaPoWriMo 2016 Day 19 – Write a “how to” poem. Peace to your ♥!

“This is What Bugs Me”

Do you ever wish there were a switch (discreetly hidden behind your right ear perhaps) to turn off your thoughts? I would enjoy more of the scenery on my walks–and more of life itself–if I had one. Peace to your ♥ ! 

 This is What Bugs Me

 I’m walking as usual, head-deep in hindsight, 
 So rapt in regrets I’m blindsided by a gnat 
 That hovers into view beneath the brim 
 Of my baseball cap. It is an ardent lover, 
 Returning when I swat it away, as attracted 
 To the fluids of my eyes as I am to my tears, 
 Yet easily fatigued—twenty seconds and
 I’m forgotten, filtered out of consciousness.
 I don’t envy its gnat-size brain, naturally, 
 But there is this: while I’m moving ahead, 
 That little bugger’s moving on.

 © Stephanie Malley

“The Bottom Line”

I’m calling this “light verse about a weighty subject.” :) Enjoy! (And, of course, peace to your ♥ ! )

 The Bottom Line

 Every July, suppressing a sigh,
 My cardiac doctor would say,
 “Your weight’s too high; you really must try
 To take a brisk walk every day.”

 It wasn’t as though I didn’t know
 Time walking was very well spent.
 I did—even so, my get-up-and-go
 Quite often got up and went.

 I’d be good for a while, decked out in style
 In sweat-wicking exercise clothes,
 But as each added mile became more of a trial,
 I’d opt to stay inside and doze.

 One holiday, I swore not to delay;
 I made a New Year’s resolution:
 A daily sashay was a small price to pay
 To alter my weight distribution.

 When I glanced at my rear in the bedroom mirror,
 I saw it was worse than I thought.
 If I hoped to appear in a swimsuit this year,
 I couldn’t sashay; I must trot.

 While it was forty degrees without any breeze,
 I maintained a respectable pace.
 Then along came a freeze; I grew weak at the knees
 At the thought of what I would face.

 Refusing to doubt, I went shopping about
 For a parka and long underwear.
 By the time I set out, now even more stout,
 The only thing brisk was the air.

 It soon became clear I’d be nowhere near
 Ready when summertime came.
 My hubby (the dear) said not to fear,
 I’d be his sweetheart just the same.

 Did I really care if my derriere
 Was a lot on the larger side?
 After all, to be fair, I now had gray hair
 And was no longer a blushing young bride.

 But I didn’t quit; I resolved to get fit
 And not worry about my appearance.
 Over time, bit by bit, as I kept at it,
 My clothes gained some much needed clearance.

 When I last saw the doc, I gave him a shock;
 He couldn’t believe I’d been walking.
 Now look at the clock—it’s time for sunblock
 And letting my feet do the talking.

 © Stephanie Malley