Best Dodged Poems
Gray smeared sky like a quilt of rags
Winos sip rot gut from brown paper bags
Threadbare cloud crotch splits up the side
Rain pours down, you got nowhere to hide
Cheap umbrella from a street corner pimp
Turns inside out before going limp
Putrid puddles, soggy doggy doo dollops
Are artfully dodged by high-heeled trollops
A rat scurries by with a piece of bread
Like the ant that totes a leaf on its head
You too once held big dreams in your grasp
But they got drowned with a gurgling gasp
You told me before, no you don't stutter
Your genius ideas got washed down the gutter
Now like a scavenger after a flood
You salvage what's left from out of the mud
Ashes to crashes, lust to rust
In the end it only goes bust
Caught in between the future and past
You start out just fine but finish dead last
____________________________
by Brian McClain - Jan 23, 2016
The palms whistled in the wind, as waves rolled onto shore
The path of moonlight shimmered, we wanted nothing more
We laughed as we dodged the moving water on the sand
Engaging smiles in the night, as you gently held my hand
We were free as each flying seagull, not missing a beat
We held each other in darkness, overcoming daylight heat
Then you reached down, picked up a seashell just for me
You looked at me and told me to hold it from this memory
- I knew this was more than anything could cost -
- For this love to eternity will never be lost -
Heidi Sands
2/21/24
(C)opyright
Dragon found a Fairy Ring and quickly jumped inside! Heaven Forbid!
Dancing round and round, he suddenly disappeared. Yes! He surely did!
As he disappeared I knew that trouble would without doubt, now ensue.
So I blew out my breath, and immediately did the same, I’d seen him do.
As I landed, I followed the mob, knowing Dragon would be in demand.
Sure enough, there he stood with the great sword Excalibur, in his hand.
The future King Arthur was standing empty handed, looking kinda sad.
Merlin, however, not amused, started chasing Dragon and looking mad.
Without Arthur to pull the sword from the stone, Camelot wouldn’t be built.
You might say that Dragon was in deep doo doo, all the way up to the hilt.
Things progressed far worse, as Merlin shot crazy magic at Dragon’s face.
He missed Dragon… leaving ‘Sir Mouse a lot’, in Sir Lancelot’s place.
Dragon dodged a magic bolt, from Merlin, hitting Sir Gwain, like a mace.
Yep, if this kept up, the whole round table was about to end, without a trace.
So I jumped Merlin, bringing him to the ground, as I screamed at Dragon!
Put that blooming sword down!… As in: YEP! BACK IN THE STONE!!!
But by then I was changed to a frog, and a few croaks were the only sounds.
Old England had become the new Mayhem Falls, both alive and now found.
Suddenly, Grandpa Troll appeared, yanking the sword from Dragon’s hand.
Putting it back in the stone, he bowed to Merlin and all of his medieval land.
Next he grabbed Dragon by the ear, and me as I hopped across the ground.
We quickly made an exit… by use of the Fairy Ring, now so very profound.
Camelot’s problems, would no doubt, be from ‘Sir Mouse A Lot’s’ overload.
Imagine what might have been, if we’d never helped see, that day bestowed.
Would the world have been better? Would Camelot have longer survived?
We’ll never know. But the Moral is: Beware of Fairy Rings and Dragons!
For they can bring about the worlds end, as we know it, on any given day!
Camelot had that story put on a Tapestry along with Arthur’s great event.
He dutifully, also, pulled the sword from the stone… Yep… You might say…
For them it had become ‘A Great News Day!’ As I did ribbit and hop away!
Written by Carol Eastman 8-29-2016
The reason why I gamble,
I ought to tell the truth.
Those squalid tales I spun before…
Well, don’t go seeking proof.
The one about the heart op
And my desperate plight for cash -
A pack of lies, I’m fit and well
(Except a little rash).
And then there was the other one
About my mental health
And descent into depression
And the quest for joy through wealth.
And when you saw me on the street
In front of the casino,
I wept and cried ‘I have no friends,
So where else can I go.
I haven’t tasted human warmth
For such a countless while,
At least when dealing out the cards
The croupier gives a smile.’
And when you looked concerned
I said ‘Don’t fret, it’s human weakness.
But I’ve joined a local church
And hope to find a cure through Jesus.’
Then soon as you were out of sight
I dodged into the bookies
And put a tenner on a nag
(You’ll think The Devil took me).
And when this news got back to you
You started that campaign
To ‘Save Our Al’ from brimstone wrath
And flaming pitchfork pain.
And when the cash came rolling in
You gave it to my Mum,
And told her it was for
The welfare of her troubled son.
Now she was pretty mystified
And thought you were deranged.
She used the cash to buy a car
And just gave me the change.
But with all your selfless efforts,
I feel a little mean.
It’s time to set the record straight.
I’m ready to come clean.
You see.
The reason that I gamble,
There’s no tragic tale of sin.
The reason that I gamble:
It’s because I always win.
*spot poetry written in 15 minutes or less about any random subject
There lay a button,
'neath the weather beaten tile,
Lay in it's dust, shadowed crust,
it had been there quite a while.
Hopeless trust amongst the feet
that scattered it abroad,
It dodged and hid itself for keeps,
in hopes 'twould not be trod.
It kept itself a distant force,
this button in the tile,
I picked it up to change its pace
and placed it in the pile,
Of buttons in my sheltered home;
'twould be so happy there
But who was I to criticize,
or place it anywhere?
Perhaps it was quite happy,
in its home away from tacks,
So I turned around,
and put it down,
It was happy to be back.
Moral: Don't assume that changing ones'
surroundings are always what THEY desire.
"One day while resting in the store,
I saw you striding through the door.
You seemed a kindly youngster who
Would know just how to treat a shoe.
Though nervous, newly-made, and shy,
I tried my best to catch your eye.
And soon my heart was filled with glee.
You picked me up and purchased me!
"You took me home and shined me up
And kept me from your gnawing pup.
Beneath your bed you made me wait
Beside the one you called my mate.
I sat forgotten there for weeks
With dusty toys and dirty sneaks.
Until, at last, one day at dawn
You picked me up and put me on.
"For months I took you where you chose.
I saved your sole and heel and toes.
We dodged the mud and sidewalk cracks
And walked on walls and railroad tracks.
You put your weight and trust on me
And laced me tightly as can be.
Through pain and sweaty feet and rain
I held my tongue, did not complain.
But now I'm old; there is no doubt.
I'm tattered, torn, and all worn out.
I hear you've bought a brand new pair.
With all I've done, it isn't fair.
Remember how we romped and ran?
I need a good retirement plan.
I've earned a better ending than
The bottom of your garbage can."
* * * * *
(Did you notice the two shoe puns?
"I saved your sole(soul"
and "held my tongue")
The Mill wheel wouldn't turn until the Spring
The yellow tape defines it a crime scene
Similar to one in 1930
Locals watch police investigating
The 1840 gristmill's history
Involves the town's most famous mystery
A man charged with fraud and duplicity
Dodged first degree murder complicity
Whispers ran through the town from door to door
A dead body, missing cash... furthermore
Under the waterfall... just like before
Talk of murder weapon left on the floor
A deep freeze had the town on hold for weeks
No official info... except for leaks
By and by the case was about to peak
Ice melts, revealing secrets - the wheel creaks
Tips led to stolen cash confiscation
Perps confessed on cross examination
Funds came through for the Mill's renovation
Waterfall Weddings... book reservation
Submitted July 5, 2018
One, Nine, Sixteen V3.0 Contest by Viv Wigley
Seventh Place
Zombies ate my Christmas guests
Oh Lord you should have seen it
Don't know what the cops will think
But the neighbors won't believe it
Granny dodged and moved so quick
She ran like Herschel Walker
Just as it seemed she'd get away
She tripped, that's how they caught her
Uncle Fred was passed out cold
From slugging lots of scotch
So they put him in the blender
And started drinking shots
What happened to the others
Is a tale to gross to tell
But i think that me and grandpa
Are going straight to... well now
See grandpa is a Wiley one
And he knew just what to do
Smeared on blood and messed his pants
Then said you'd better too
The zombies still came after us
But when they caught our smell
stopped all of their snarling
And said welcome..... what the well now
So grandpa, me, and zombies
All sat at the dinner table
Drinking shots of uncle Fred
And dinning on aunt mable
They lurk about
Think no one sees
They stalk believing
No one knows
They’re there
Hushed implicit
In the night
Slithering about
Disguised
Concealed
Dodged
Eluded
Getting off
On being ignored
The dark shadows
Lurking in the night
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Clarence Stone stepped into the saloon,
Tired from long days on the trail.
He was riding on west to far Idaho,
Where land awaited, spacious and hale.
He was fleeing a feud that had consumed
The families of Burton and Stone.
Rather than die for an old hate,
He had set out with all that he owned.
Inside the bar one thing he did espy:
A woman beautiful and tanned,
With flowing black hair and emerald eyes,
Dressed in the jeans of a man.
Why such a woman was here, he didn’t know,
But she clearly seemed to belong.
She tossed back whiskey and joined the choir
Of the men’s raucous, cow-punching songs.
Stone went for a drink, and sat at the bar
Planning out the rest of his night,
When a man shouted ‘cheat,’ and all sprung up
The saloon gave itself over to fight!
Stone swung as they came, holding his own,
And the woman just off to his right,
Danced and dodged, kicked and swung,
Shrieking loudly her delight…
But her speed failed, and job it got through,
She stumbled, fell back to the floor.
So bold Clarence charged, bull-rushed the man,
Who whimpered and cried out,’No More!’
He helped the girl up, but she grabbed his neck,
And slammed him into a deep kiss.
She broke with a grin, and turned to the fray
Saying,’Come on! Let’s go finish this!’
Ten minutes later they both stumbled out
Sweaty with hard-fought victory.
Stone tried to move off, but she grabbed his wrist
Saying,’Oh No! You’re not done with me!’
They went to her hotel, hurried and hot
And up the grand stair-case did tear.
I won’t go into detail on what happened next,
For a gentleman doesn’t go there…
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
The Hayne plane took America by storm,
The Yanks soon realised he was not the norm,
He dodged through gaps
As he downed his flaps,
The opposition looked quite forlorn.
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town
Not a creature was breathing, not one to be found.
Bloody hand prints swept the walls which once were white
Darkness overshadowed anything that had light
Little boys were decapitated and sprawled across the floor,
While little girls were skinned alive; hung as décor for every door.
Mothers had their jaws ripped straight from their heads
As their children screamed for mercy from their very own beds.
Panic and pain ricocheted off the walls
Pets were brutally butchered then stretched out in the halls
And Fathers were kept alive long enough to observe
Then their eyes were gouged only to dangle by an optic nerve
Fifty-six minutes is all the creature takes
To slay the whole town with its massacre earthquake
Agony rained something fierce this night
For this town was caught in the worst of plights
And the echo of dripping blood is now all you can hear
The stench swimming through the air is encapsulated fear.
To have dodged this slaughter would have been transmundane
For this monster, this beast was most definitely inhumane
It came through the windows and tore through the blinds
Grabbing any human or beast it could find
Then Slash the body! Gnash at the body! Bash them in the crown!
And Thrash the body! Lash at the body! Mash the body down!
Then it rips out your tongue and swallows it whole
This fiendish freak has a heart made of coal
When wondering eyes caught a glimpse of what did appear
They knew it wasn’t Santa and his flying reindeers
The man was a legend.
So farewell, Cassius Clay, Ali
You knocked out a bit of poetry
That butterfly one sure packed a sting
And well done on the boxing thing
Mohammed, man, you’re counted out
You gave the boxing thing a shout
Wrote rhyme to make a grown man cry
And dodged the draft like a butterfly
Ali, you’ve packed your final punch
Man, you took boxing out to lunch
Men say that you are God today
Who made Mohammed out of Clay
© Gail Foster
Come Christmas Eve, I'd hear the church bells peal,
accompanied by carolers singing:
as kids, we believed Santa was real.
Ogling our gifts triggered a smile or squeal,
while singing songs, of jingle bells, ringing:
come Christmas Eve, I'd hear the church bells peal.
I can't describe the happiness I'd feel,
dreaming of what Rudolph might be bringing:
as kids, we believed Santa was real.
Mom would prepare a festive turkey meal
while we dodged snowballs, the kids kept flinging:
come Christmas Eve, I'd hear the church bells peal.
When I was young, Christmas was a big deal
mainly due to my parents' upbringing:
as kids, we believed Santa was real.
The holiday season increased our zeal
to build forts, while the snow's wet and clinging.
Come Christmas Eve, I'd hear the church bells peal:
as kids, we believed Santa was real.
I am the father of gods, the Olympian family and of mortals
The protector of the sky, soil and sea; heights and human race
Lord and lover of eagles and oak tree; aegis my mighty metals
A just judge, with a merciful mind with a firm, friendly face.
The youngest yet, the sweetest son of Cronus and Rhae…tall Titans;
The brother of Poseidon, Hades, Hesta, Hera and Demeter… deities,
For freedom, I fought my father and his followers…terrible Titans,
And set my siblings free from the cage of Cronus who dodged duties.
The protector of the weak, the punisher of the wicked and mercy-mania;
Winning all wars but one… I am the husband of Hera, my sweet sister,
Father of gods and goddesses: Ares, Hebe, Hephaestus and Eileithyia,
Lived a loosed life with women, fell for so many flowers…a trickster.
I am the Zealous Zeus, god of rain, gatherer of the cloud and thunder,
I an the zealous Zeus, the father of charming and cheerful children,
I am the zealous zeus, the husband of the immortal and mortal mothers,
I am the zealous zeus, the mentor of all mighty, merciful and mild men.