Best Dodges Poems
You won't find a yard like this anymore. You'd think it would seem smaller now that I'm an adult, but it doesn't. It's still enormous, stretching far beyond the house like a grassy sea. The hills roll like the tide, dotted with patches of melting snow that remind me of cresting waves. All around me, the gardens wake from a wintry slumber.
tiny buds
cling to naked branches--
a robin sings
Time stands still here in Nana's garden; the ghosts of childhood haunt every inch of the yard. There's my brother, climbing the ancient apple tree, throwing crab apples at my sister as she plucks daisies. Even as she dodges apples, she plucks away - asking no one in particular if she's loved or not, leaving a trail of petals in her wake. And there I am in my grass-stained skirt, twirling and twirling, falling dizzily to the ground, oblivious to my sister's shrieks of protest and my brother's triumphant laugh.
I shake my head and the vision clears. Now the garden is empty - still overflowing with trees and shrubs and flowers, but lacking in laughter, mischief, and innocence. Innocence has been replaced by wistfulness.
two robins
glide across the sky--
a door creaks
"Tea's ready, dear."
I glance over my shoulder at Nana. She stands on the back porch wearing her favourite apron and my favourite smile. Like her garden, she hasn't changed. A few more silver strands in her hair, a few more lines around her eyes - but she is still the same woman who took care of us, tending to us just as she tended to her gardens. She smiles at me now, as if she knows that garden has cast a spell over me.
With another glance at the apple tree, I follow Nana inside the house - and I swear I can hear echoes of laughter behind me.
Just like football I am waiting ,
on the side line,
To go up on the field,
Yes we are playing Goodooga,
Aboriginal big guys, tough as steel.
Here comes Albert racing faster,
Trotting down the bloody wing,
Gotta stop him, take him head on,
Hit his ankles, the hurting thing .
Fell him like a big old tree,
Pot belly lands on me ,
I’m a still a seeing stars,
Shadow sparring,
all round me ,
Get up you silly Galah.
So there I was out on the wing ,
Waiting for a pass to me.
Intercept, Albert's a coming ,
he passes ball, dodges see .
Just a few of broken arms,
Black eyes worn with pride.
Rugby Leage what a battle ,
Carry the ball through the other side.
Running for the other goal,
Sidestepped Albert, got there see.
Not a bloody forward pass, (illegal)
Planted it between the trees.
At 17 I was in an interstate game,
between Dirranbandi n Goodooga, we lost. (shame)
What is innocence
Is it a little boy
that pulls his toy
fire truck down the street
And it follows him on a string
As he dodges empty beer bottles
And crack needles
Wishing his toy.
had wings
Is it a little girl who dreams of tea parties
And dolls
And in the next room her father hits her mom
And slams her against
Walls
Is it the kid who’s playing cops
And robbers
And finds his fathers gun
And suddenly it’s not so fun
What is innocence
Is it the American in his lazy boy
Watching American idol
As if it’s, his idol
As his government bombs another village
Is it becoming aware of our obesity epidemic
As another child dies from an
Empty stomach
What is innocence
Is it venti coffee you buy for $4.99
To stay awake at work
As you push passed the homeless
As you stand in line
And you clutch your quarters
And mutter, this is mine
Is it teaching your family Jesus and love
As you yell…
Nuke those Muslim towel heads
Send them to, hell
(continued in part 2)
Fractured Storm
Ghostly gloom born in brooding stillness
Cut to smithereens with shards of energy
Whirlwinds in feral fragments shrillness
Warn of wild catastrophe.
Blinding firebolts erupt to split serenity
Nightfall dodges crackling outbursts released
Platinum tempests burst electricity
Splintered lights race on volatility increased.
Sonic thunder bumpers, let go pent up booms
Rip wide the transitory abyss
Slams closed jagged air as thunder looms
Solitude in ragged sound dismissed
Smashed bits of broken midnight crumble
Air’s torn edges reverberate in harrowing echoes
Drumfire’s waves of serrated sound rumble
Flashing thunderheads shriek in falsettos.
Night watch sees siroccos spiral spin
As raindrops on the dry earth sizzle
Downpours splash in roaring torrents din
Gales at rest – storm remnants sing thin whistles.
12-29-21
Contest: Weather
Sponsor: Angela Tune
N/A - 1-5-22
Contest: Your Second Chance 1st
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Firebolts can be found in the Merriam- Webster Dictionary
Step by step down the hall,
Head hung low, gazing down.
Healing from the fall,
hurt covered with a frown.
Others ignore him,
Drowning in the pain.
Holding you under, hope you can swim.
sitting alone in the rain.
He is an invisible boy
She dodges the remark,
Sliding past you in the hall,
Soft spoken, gentle heart
Healing from the sprawl,
too afraid to start.
Others ignore her,
Engulfed by fear,
movements a blur,
all to avoid the sneer.
She is an invisible girl.
Energy finds each other
Eyes meeting in the hall
Encased by bodies smother
Loneliness begins to loll.
Then whisked away,
Class starts anew,
His/ her face in their minds shall play
And their minds brew.
He is an invisible boy,
She is an invisible girl.
He built up the courage,
And walked up to her
Freeing her from the cage
Her mind began to stir,
Their eyes meet,
Acknowledge for the first time
Bringing up a feeling that can’t be beat
Excitement began to climb.
The invisible girl and boy have been seen
Now together they walk
Side by side
With no fear of the talk
Their tears have dried
Hearts jump in joy
No longer afraid of the crowd
One together, girl and boy
Their heads shall not be bowed
The invisible girl and invisible boy
The girl and boy are not alone.
The very softest forms
Of martial arts
Tai chi
It’s very similar to a dance.
You’re a dancer who dodges.
And aikido
for when things get a little rougher.
These seek to do no harm to a predator
To disarm with the least amount of force. This woman does aspire
Chi point strikes are more dangerous to your opponent, and fellow being.
If you choose to learn them, okay. That’s your choice.
You are always in the process of gathering tools.
It sickens me to hear of advice
Of gouging with keys
And other flimsy
means.
How are you supposed to take care of yourself?
Or worse, seeking to do the most harm with the least amount of effort
S. I. N. G.
That is not a type of “singing” I’d EVER endorse.
It boils my blood. That stupid coincidence-
That is laziness
And inability to feel empathy
Plain and simple.
“Miss Congeniality”
Sandra Bullock
She punches and beats up that man that did NOTHING.
There’s nothing congenial
about targeting someone’s genitals.
And then teased him
And everyone LAUGHED.
Who’s the sociopath now?
Or the SADIST???
If a man punched a woman anywhere
And then taunted her
You would be baying for his blood.
Like lionesses who wolf down dogs cowering
You are not that different.
You’re the same species.
Sheesh.
I heard a saying long before
Too many cooks spoil the broth sure
I think it proves right
With one another they fight
The man dodges or they little to share.
-------------------------------------------
Ninth Placement
Contest: To die for Limericks
Her heart swells with ecstacy
When he plays basketball in scorching heat
Dodges the ball here and there
With a sly smile dwelling everywhere
Before scoring the goal, he lifts his head
Throws a glance where she with everyone, treads
Drunk, deep blue but cosmic cross eyes
And she colours love in them
Her heart pounds with misdirected love
He jumps and goals and her heart go wild
For he: a stretched Straw lands back on the court....
Like a ball rolling far and wide
Game resumes and to shed his sweat..
He flips his shirt up and low
A scare-crow figure peeps through belly
Then a daring crow comes, sit and poops on his head
He is all bones and; flesh of a pound or two
But she sees six packs flashing her eyes
And her heart swells with ecstasy
Near the end he pours water on his face
With his head high and his eyes closed
The grey shirt turns black with water and sweat
And her heart gets high with adrenaline fret
The water drops find their way out of the black silk tides;
With black lice as passesngers on-board
One nook of supposedly voluptuous lips
Hangs upward, baring sidelines of his dental scheme
A days old seed there; stuck in-between
Sows directly in the soft soil of her heart
And she can't see seed's surrounding black sea,
As her heart swells with blind love and ecstasy
Santa’s loaded sleigh,
Streaking past the Christmas moon;
Dodges bats and drones.
For some reason
I really like to drive,
and ever since I was sixteen,
when I get behind the wheel
feel free and alive...
Only once had an accident
when I was seventeen,
pulling out too fast of the driveway,
into my parents car I careened,
thank God it was minor damage
and my Dad was able to pop
the dent out with a hammer,
got a stern look and talking to
but kept me out of the slammer,
Have driven some Dodges and Chevy
cars in the past, but lately drive
a Ford Focus because its
much better on the gas...
Have driven in about all of the
states on the east coast,
and when I go once a year
to visit some family
its destination L.I., New York,
Out west have driven through
Texas, Oklahoma, Arizona
and even California,
reason being my husband
back then went to a school
called UTI in Phoenix, Arizona...
Probably the most traveled
interstate in the east being I-75 and I-24,
which is one of the biggest
trucking routes that I know of by far,
and I truly admire truck drivers
driving their 18 wheelers
up and down the highways and interstates,
they just scare me a bit
when they get too close,
driving as if my car was
truck driver bait...
I even thought once about
becoming a truck driver
but that was a fleeting idea
that lost most of its appeal,
because the more I thought of it
wouldn't really like that career,
especially since they're all
probably pretty heavy from
constantly being behind the wheel,
and when I stop at those truck stops
I can't help but notice,
that the truck drivers not only
buy toothpaste for their teeth,
but also preparation H
for their hemorrhoids...
My son and I just came home
from Chattanooga, Tenn.,
and thank God we both
arrived home safely and in one piece,
because even though I love to drive
can't understand why people
fly by me doing 80 like in an emergency,
unless someone in the car
has to use a restroom or
is about to deliver a baby...
and lately when I drive
around Moccasin Bend
feel a little more on edge
and on the offensive,
because its like driving on the autobahn
or being in the Indy 500!
Remember, don't text and drive because you want to arrive alive…:)
P.S. Happy 60th Birthday Interstate System!
River Theft – Haiku
Predator bird swoops
Bug dodges down to river
Trout bites, swallows whole
quick brown urban fox
dodges howling hounds from hell
crossing motorway
A DEMONIC DEMOCRACY
“We interrupt regularly scheduled programming to present the President”……
And yet he just keeps talking
No verbiage can he espouse that I would ever care to hear
While all I see is smoke and a lot of fragile mirrors
Besides, he’s interrupting “The Price Is Right”
And the only redeeming value of this entire exercise in futility is that there are no commercials
But then again, when will I have time to grab a snack?
But then again, this is one show I can leave for ten minutes
And know precisely what has happened
Which is much of nothing
Inquirers ask about bombs, terrorists and terror on the other side of the globe
As his words defile the robe he dons with vanity and the devaluation of veracity
And the honesty he dodges like the soldiers ducking bullets
in the god forsaken place he ordered them with authority and impunity to
An acrid and arid area where deserts breed dishonesty
While lies about a misguided agenda vie with reality
And insult the reporters who flank him in awareness
Glancing sideways at the way he jousts with injustice
As he stands there with an icy stare daring indifference
And a shrug of the shoulders our country rests upon
And yet, he just keeps talking
They interrupted my favorite game show for a show of force
Or, more appropriately, a show of farce
And his cognizant awareness of fairness is sparse
While he reveals himself with a condescending attitude by a man with no conscience
And no viable discipline that he can ascribe to righteousness
His is a partisan program wherein donkeys have a tug of war with elephants
And in the end the rope will finally snap before a winner is declared
Nor is bloodiness spared
Because no one really wins when mutual loss is a matter of course
And there are no benefits to a battle fought in silence
Where too many people remain mute as their enemies follow suit
As secrets slay the demon in democracy
And yet he just keeps talking……
“We now return you to regularly scheduled programming”
© 2013 copyright PHREEPOETREE.…~free cee!~
Start
As the snow covered peaks of the mountain
Turn golden with the rays of the rising sun,
She races down the snow-lined pathways
Her husky on a leash, leading the run.
Her golden hair gently swept by the breeze
Her ebullient paces betray her glee,
She dodges the trees along the path
As she glides down to set herself free.
Behold the lady of the mountain
In all her elegance, demeanor and beauty,
She exudes charm worthy of a woman of substance
Who never fails in performing her duty.
She touches the pinnacle of virtue
And carries in all her work a fervor,
She is so lovable, adorable and venerable
Leaving her peer a mere observer.
She speaks her oxymora with a gesture
Which elicit paeans and laughter,
Her deafening silence is like an illusion
That one should never go after.
End
Walk with me along a dusty path,
Through a curtain of weeping willows,
Where water laps against the bank,
Forget –me-not’s in the grass, like pillows.
Duckling snuggle amongst these flowers
Gently pecking at the leafy mould.
Swans walk serenely with crossed toes
Head arched in a majestic pose.
Come sit with me and enjoy the view
The lake glistens in a sunny haze
The coot dodges in and through
the willow as we gaze
The greedy seagulls snatch the food
That children throw with much glee.
Canadian geese fly in and intrude
On the ducks and swans as they eat tea.
It’s a mile long, this walk we take
Passing a memorial lighthouse to Capt Scott
The place I take you is Roath Park Lake*
Come add some memories, forget it not.
• http://cardifflocalguide.co.uk/local-guide-to-roath-park-lake.
Penned on August 21st 2014