Regretting the taste of feet

Blame is so very easy
Whether regret or bitterness
It seems everything broken has blame
Something which could have gone better

A little bit of self absorption
Neglecting to nurture what was there
Questioning why something is lost
Mechanically following life’s work

Stubbornness or frustration, its hard to tell
A man can become used to selfish indifference
The world seems that it does not care!
Yet, adapting does not mean embracing

Is there any blame for the past?
Words unspoken, opportunity missed?
There is so much good in the world
All people choose one good over another

So small and so very weak
Dust with a spark of the divine
Hearts big enough to change the world
Hands to weak to leave a lasting mark

What is worse, words said or unsaid?
Those inappropriate silences?
The words spoken as if to tip windmills?
The words spoken in pure anger?

Faith tells me anger is a right thing
Jesus tipped the tables in righteous anger
Pain tells that something is wrong
Anger seeks to stop the pain’s cause

Cowardliness and wisdom both bring silence
There is a close line between bravery and foolishness
Truth spoke to wisdom brings change for the better
Truth spoke to a fool brings even more hostility

The heart is big enough to change the world
The hands to weak to leave a lasting mark
The mind doubts the wisdom and power of words
We regret and are full of doubt

The taste of foot remains in the mouth
Somehow, no one else seems to notice

I have been giving a lot of thought to the taste of feet — though I realize that it is mostly my own perception. I have seen that others have given similar thoughts. This poem is inspired by, personal experience, a recent drawing found at, and combining a couple thoughts shared by Bomi about regret, and the taste of feet. It seems wishing that we would have chosen our words differently is universal… unfortunately, I still lose sleep over it.


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