Best Doff Poems
I have found myself at the threshold of death on several occasions. Each time I managed to
look it in the eye, doff my hat and say, “I’ll catch you up the trail.” This is not to say that I
am some special breed of hombre that casually defies death, for there have been many who
have gone the way before me and managed the confrontation in heroic decorum.
Nevertheless, death is not some evil state of being that only the brilliant or daring may defy;
nor is it a release from the severity of life. If anything, death is the threshold of eternity. Life
provides all known qualities, conditions, trials and tribulations that we encounter throughout
the fruition of our purpose.
Oh, death is not the enemy, for life provides our foes,
The ills, disease and suffering… the countless other woes;
For this is as it was ordained since Earth was yet to be,
When life evolved on other planes, the eye will never see.
We all embrace our time and grow in body, mind and soul.
We foster wisdom, strength and faith, fulfilling every role.
Prepared or not, the time will come, our form will waste away,
While life goes on, as is ordained by He who plans the way.
No, death is not the enemy, an end that one should fear.
It’s but a threshold for the soul to doff its mortal gear,
While life transcends its bond with Man to dwell forevermore
With He, whose force conceived all life and is its very core.
My grandma was a steeple jack,
Of heights she had no fear.
The crowds would gather round to watch.
They came from far and near,
To see her swing and pirouette,
Doff her hat and wave.
And gasped and cheered each time she feigned
A slip and then a save.
Roof-toppers winced and bit their lips,
Tight rope walkers screamed.
Treetop loggers looked away
At the daring they were seeing.
Women gasped and children shrieked,
Fearful she would fall,
But at full ascent a massive roar
As she stood upon the ball!
She blew a kiss to the those below
As she turned around with ease,
Then there atop removed her scarf
And cast it to the breeze
But the crowd went wild as before their eyes
They viewed her final feat…
Into a handstand Grandma rose,
Then she waved and kicked her feet!
Whether flag pole, steeple, TV tower…
My grandma climbed them all.
For the freedom felt there in the clouds,
She was at their beck and call.
That grand old gal inspired me
Her legacy I've retraced.
Now I too dance upon a pole
At a club called Mary’s Place.
Footling Around
Shoes off
Clothes doff
Feet reek
Spray seek
Romance
Last chance
We are but fleeting shadows
Upon the face of this earth
So solid,so tangible ,yet so ready
To slip through the hands of life
When we doff our mortal coil
To leave an inert and empty shell
Doomed from birth to turn to dust
How much store do we place
In the substance of this earth
Which can erupt and flow in waves
Sweeping all before it unstoppably
Then coming to rest
Once more monumentally still
Cloaked in the garb of geological grittiness
Water itself takes many forms
As gas,liquid and solid
Steam, water and ice
Such metamorphoses tease our understanding
The restlessness of our universe
Encompassing a world of whirling atoms
to give an illusion of stability
While spatially distanced.
This mysterious blend of dark matter
And seemingly solid shapes
Defies resolution by the human mind
As a few search for meaning
Seen by many as a purposeless pursuit.
Plus ca change,
Plus c'est la meme chose.
Andrea is an ambassador of alluring art
Noble, she is nice and nifty both day or night
Dedicated, dutiful and dogged like a dart
Resourceful, she’s got a mind… real and rapt
Experienced, she’s undoubtedly an exquisite expert
Amiable, her alluring attitude flows from her heart.
Darling, she’s got a friendly figure… not a fart!
Intriguing, her intellectual prowess is intact
Excellent, she is a fountain of love and light
Talented teacher: she instills, inspires and imparts
Realistic, her opinions are … in black and white
Interested in kickboxing, music, aerobics… so smart
Creative: particularly in prose and poetry… I doff my hat
Homely: she is a mother and grandma with a happy heart!
Dedicated to Andrea Dietrich
© Adeleke Adeite
My head hit the pillow and I was asleep,
I fell into a dream that was so deep,
standing on the deck of a fighting ship,
the vessel did rise, then into gulley did tip.
The waves so cruel did rise and fall,
and all did work for the good of all,
the Dramallach Raven was sailing through,
a storm of darkness, the ship held true.
Deep in the darkness, the waters did crash,
against the ships fore they did mighty smash,
yet this mighty vessel was sailing true,
it would reach its destination, all the crew knew.
Where was this ship bound on this stormy night?
The moon shining down, its beacon light,
the Dramallach Raven on its way to Hell,
I knew this ship and my legs fell.
I knelt and I looked to the wheel,
my horror I could not conceal,
the skeletal captain did doff his hat,
let me wake and that be that.
The Trails of Sanity
Why do I care if the disturber carries on
Why is it I cannot just wait it out, bide my time
Be more mindful, try and bond
Embrace what I don’t understand
Welcome the scorching taste in my mouth
I wait, I watch, and watch and wait
what seems a millennium
The afterglow of embers still burn
Just sit tight…
The day ends with a tug on the swatch
of the backpack, I doff it off my shoulders
I hear the trifles start up once more behind me
As my eyes wander upwards
As the Rigel star taps into my soul
As I surrender inward, a whispering voice
cues consolingly…
Here you are
Mind at ease
Free
pictures painted on her face,
painted eyes in koal black,
lips in light painted cherry blossom pink,
painted freckles across the nose,
picture painted of beauty,
the earth changes in her eyes,
fall leaves of yellow, and the great huge sun,
spring grass vibrant green and the growing leaves,
the summer blue of the sky and lake,
the silver of the shinning stars and great big moon,
the purple of auroras bloom,
the hazel of her woodland heart,
the ground that is the one true hearth,
all reflected in her open wide eyes,
hidden away in a child's disguise,
telling a story none other could tell,
she doesn't know the story well,
pictures painted in her blood,
she looks to see, but sees none,
painted pictures of life and love,
with flowered garlands laying there,
painted on her skin so soft,
picture painted of beauty, unable to doff,
the earth portrays in her hair,
golden light strewn every where,
bright flecks of the light,
carrying honeys sweet scent through the night,
the earth is base, rich shades of brown,
the trees, and animals, the spirit bear,
the red of cardinals radiant breast,
strands of lost hair taken for their nest,
it mixes into a beautiful blend,
beauty in her hair, the earths picture of her then,
skin of the soft moons glow,
silver when there are no cloths,
to cover up her sparkling sheen,
beneath her knee there is a mark,
so is there beneath her heart,
and on her shoulders light they are,
freckles and beauty marks there are,
the earth the moon shines upon,
the nature is her bodies song,
they say that god made woman and man,
in his image, by his hand,
the earth too was created true,
i believe god is earth, and in me and you,
[Part One. I Ran Out Of Room To Write]
You are a definition of
timeless love;
an adorable angel sent
from above.
My hands are tied but my
heart is freed
I cannot help myself, I'm in
love indeed.
Deep within flows an
endless emotion
it sets my spirit, soul and
body in motion.
I used to think you are
living within my heart
but no, your image is
imprinted on my heart.
Now I know why we are
simply inseperable,
your imperfect ink is
perfectly indellible.
Friends forever will be in
time and eternity,
I am not dreaming dear,
this is reality.
Thanks for coping even
when I offend:)
I know we will be friend to
the end!
For you my love, I doff my
humble heart
knowing nothing can tear
us apart.
thanks again.
(c) Oct 2012
Adeleke Adeite
I doff my fedora to the feller who invented pertater chips!
That genius developed the ideal thingy in which to immerse our dips!
How could we survive sans our weekly fix of Dominoes pizza pie,
Or a half-dozen Dunkin Donuts consumed on the sly?
Ain't nothin' as finger lickin' good as Kentucky Fried, original of course,
Or a Wendy's triple bacon 'burger when you're as famished as a horse!
Ah! The myriad of Mexican fixin's offered by the local Taco Bell!
Chimichangas, burritos, tacos, tostadas and enchiladas as well!
Japanese and Chinese establishments offer mysterious and fancy fare.
Try sushi, octopus, crawfish or deep fried squid if you dare!
If you crave ice cream, cookies or a hunk of cake or such cuisine,
Hie yourself on down the street to the nearest Dairy Queen!
For the hotdog aficionado there are weenie varieties galore;
Foot longs, chilidogs, smothered in sauerkraut and so many more!
Want some scrumptious and satisfying grub that'll fill your belly?
Get a ham on rye, thick salami or a Rueben at the neighborhood deli!
At Dad's BBQ you can order any kind of barbeque with greasy fries.
To top off the pancakes at The Village Inn you can buy chocolate pies!
Doctors and nutritionists would cringe at such a diet of course.
Fiddle faddle! I'll keep on eatin' that stuff with absolutely no remorese!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
I didn’t scoff the grub;
for pleasure and sanit I scrub.
To doff trite piece of food
is my calling from the wood
When man meets assorted meat,
I grieve for the chewing treat.
I’m man’s aurora friend.
Like the Ultimate man, to the very end
I search for decayed morsel particle;
to restore man’s fresh breath is my hustle.
Cast me away and man’s teeth will hide;
his tongue won’t glide – that’s my pride.
I’m his quotidian servant-master
adorned with creamy butter
to evict stinking gums from vocal isle.
Never weary, I renew his oral smile.
Sons of Memory (For those among you in the soil)
I render this verse to sons of memory
Who have been trailblazers to the history-
In poetry world and many beyond.
I doff my hat to you in your lone ground-
Where words deafen world but dear to your wall.
With all sense of commitment I snowball
For this age to re-elevate your name.
Let it accords your hands the deserved fame
And trails your paths in and out and with lines.
Should this age will spoon satisfactory spines.
Friday February 28, 2014.
Dedicated to all classical poets and writers of other genres
Who have gone to the great beyond.
Heart Song Separation
“We got separated from us last week and I haven’t found you since.” Poet’s Quote
Too long my heart we beat in arrhythmic clashes
Languishing in sudden cardiac heart arrest
Out of sync creating dark vascular ashes
No phoenix rises from heart disease - never rests.
Too long my song we argue over melodies
Distracted by atonal hallucinations
Dismissing cradle songs of haunting rhapsodies
Elusive harmonies hide in cache creations.
Too long my words we engage in rhythmic stand offs
Glaring at my silent muse - tense verbal showdowns
Impasse of wills – procrastination’s folly doff
Disguised in masks adjectives appear as pronouns.
My aimless soul seeks union with lost heart song words
Remembering your quiet smiles of peace fullness
Your velvet vesper serene these mourning tears blur
As twilight yearns in midnight’s hypnotic stillness.
Too long my heart we beat in arrhythmic clashes
Too long my song we argue over melodies
Too long my words we engage in rhythmic stand offs
My aimless soul seeks union with lost heart song words.
12-11-20
Contest: My Created Form
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
Return Of The Tyke
Tyke, tyke, tyke' they’d chant to bait the bairn.
But insult hurled at Yorkshire folk is water off a back.
Take it, use it, grind it through the crank
As fuel for the fire, grist to mill.
Man as boy the tyke unwraps his bike.
Ride a mile, another ten. No stopping, pumping into the blood.
Cycle, eat, drink. Eat, drink, cycle.
Life’s biggest problem, darkest mood, cured in the turn of a pedal.
Through God’s own country
A yellow jersey pulls a golden thread.
Up fell down dale, through Yorkshire’s warp and weft,
It’s cruelest contours purled,
A bright new yarn weaves into the fabric of the hills.
Past mill, past gate, past pit-head dead, history’s milestones marked.
The ride is metaphor, the towns tell out my story.
Otley, Ilkley, Asgarth, Hawes.
Mum at factory, Grandma, The Black Bull - still standing.
The first sip of warm beer.
Mallerstang, Fleet Moss, Tan Hill.
Simonstone, that teacher, my Dad, Wensleydale and Granddad Thompson.
The Scar, the Cove, the Stang – part of us in every crevice, crook and corner.
Muker, Reeth, Masham, over cattle-grid, up the switch-back,
Buttertubs - Buttertubs - Buttertubs.
Suck at the air, tramp on the pain, tyres spit rubber, spit grit.
It’s all about the climb. Locked in battle against the gradient.
She’s out to hurt us, here to make us suffer.
In sickening waves her sweet call comes to quit, to quit,
To quit this spiritual ascent.
Up ahead, on the tarmac one by one, the giants of the fells swing into sight.
Robinson ‘55, Hoban ’68, doff your cap to Tommy Simpson
And Beryl Burton, she showed the lads a clean pair of heels.
I close the gap and hear them urge: “We too were once like you.
Ordinary.”
My own story is forced out,
Spat through bleeding gums and panted breaths it comes
“I’ll catch you, catch you, catch you.”
In Oxenhope and through Cragg Vale
Spirit generations line the streets “Make us proud son, make us
proud.”
We race by in a flash. As lives lived, as lives past.
One evening,
When final stage is done and life turns back to dust,
Take us back to the mountain top. Pause a moment as the weather turns,
Then set us free in the teeth of a gale.
I’ll call them on, those that struggle through the sleet and hale, soft and
strong.
As I myself, one morning, was called.
© Ben Hodgson 2014
These things offend,
know I, tis true.
In these I've been schooled,
now I tell them to you.
An innocent touch, a wayward look,
a word or threat aimed anothers way.
Is today considered harassment,
and that party has final say.
Were not to needle, mock, or jab,
to razz, or quip, gibe,or jeer.
To scorn, roast or ridicule,
and whatever you do don't leer.
It's best that we not banter words,
deride,intimidate, or taunt.
Should you be one inclined to joke,
these too, you must not flaunt.
We must not rile another,
even though it be in jest.
Sneering too, is not allowed,
so put those thoughts to rest.
Anothers traits never mock,
nor offend with apparel you doff.
Find not within, reason to knock,
while daring not to scoff.
Belittling another isn't right
not take occasion to tease.
But other than these few things
treat others as you please.
In meeting, should I not extend a hand,
and appear to have little to say,
It won't be because I'm snobbish,
but fear a Tort Lawyer coming my way.