Best Dogged Poems
Into the timeless wood he fled, running from the night
While demons of his past gave chase beneath the pale moonlight
The man dressed in soiled rags, filth of his own making
Had spent a life unto himself, all others there forsaking.
But in the night, as shadows came, though nothing made a sound
A voice there in the dark he heard, though no one was around
Calling out to him by name, “Go… seek the blood stained bridge
Its ageless timber, dogwood made, up on yon high ridge.”
Somehow, he knew the voice he heard while running from the night
Was not from friend or foe without, but came from deep inside
So run he did through elder wood, to find the yon high ridge
The Voice there still was guiding him to reach the fabled bridge.
In agony, all power spent, found he the edge of night
His demons dogged him all the way and pressed him for a fight
The host advanced and pushed him back, back toward yon high ridge
But, when he turned to his dismay, he found no “saving” bridge.
He questioned if the voice he heard and trusted in the night
Was naught but wishful thinking; a last ditch hope-filled lie
In anguish and frustration there, he stood in fear and pain
And cursed his stubborn nature that kept him bound in shame.
Despairing for the life he’d lived, in fear of coming death
He fell there on the shifting sand and cried with his last breath
“I’m sorry for the things I’ve done and regret the life I’ve led”
He turned then to accept his fate, but there appeared the bridge instead.
The shadows all began to fade, his soul started to mend
As he took the first step ‘cross that bridge, the night came to an end
Waiting on the other side, the risen sun in brilliant light
The Voice within him beckoned, “Come,” then freed him from the night.
~Christopher Thor Britt
Some people take to Facebook
In an effort to create
A safe and pleasant habitat
Unfriending those who wish debate.
But still rile against a college chum
Who's not lost their winter weight.
We drone on about the weather
Far too often before we die.
Talking incessantly about our children
To those unfortunate to catch our eye.
But fail to address substantive issues
And I have to question why?
No religion, politics or talk of sex
To free us from our doubt.
Avoiding issues that may offend
Seems the safer route.
But spotting the neighbor wearing spandex
Deserves a rapid shout.
No fossil fuel or global warming talk
To change us from our course.
And any attempt to grow our minds
Is met with dogged force.
It's far better to speak of gardening tips
Which we heartily endorse.
We close our eyes and dim our ears
To the thornier things in life.
And may indeed find sweet sanctuary
From unwanted social strife.
But rest assured we'll have wasted much
In a desire to escape our neighbor's knife.
We avoid such talk and play it safe...
Our true essence hidden from the fray.
But I have to tell... my greatest fear
That haunts and tasks me to this day.
Is when we stand before the gates of Heaven...
We'll have nothing much to say.
The End
*Check out my cartoon on Webtoons Dave McHattie.
I love Langston Hughes. I've written about him before. I've written about the Dream Keeper. I love the theme of dreams. You should read his poem, Dreams. However, today, this poem is speaking to my heart. Life is fine...Sometimes we are beset by problems that seem to do us in. Broken hearts...unfulfilled dreams...deceptive people...It's hard. I've lately become very disillusioned with certain people. Saying one thing....and meaning another. Twisting truths. Sometimes I want to give up...BUT LIFE IS FINE!!! ;)
Enjoy this!! You'll thank me later!
Hugs
Langston Hughes, 1902 - 1967
.
I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn’t,
So I jumped in and sank.
I came up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn’t a-been so cold
I might’ve sunk and died.
But it was Cold in that water! It was cold!
I took the elevator
Sixteen floors above the ground.
I thought about my baby
And thought I would jump down.
I stood there and I hollered!
I stood there and I cried!
If it hadn’t a-been so high
I might’ve jumped and died.
But it was High up there! It was high!
So since I’m still here livin’,
I guess I will live on.
I could’ve died for love—
But for livin’ I was born
Though you may hear me holler,
And you may see me cry—
I’ll be dogged, sweet baby,
If you gonna see me die.
Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine!
My memory flashes back on my most horrific nightmare…
Again, I find myself in rivet of this excruciating pain
With emaciated body, I totter to my wheelchair
Holding my paintbrushes and glass paints
Dogged enough to finish the portraits of my agonizing tale.
It’s so hard to clear up my hazy mind
Like smoked glasses- a canvas which I need to dust…
As my tears seek its way to dry
My fine hair drops at every strand
While these paint brushes of mine sweeps so fine.
My mother is so old… now alone with me
Can’t sing long lullabies anymore,
Can you sing for me?
Please put me into deep slumber
To dream that this nightmare sets me free
As I fervently pray and cling tightly to Thee.
My memory riffles through my agonizing tales one at a time
Peeking through a fizzled hope, then I see the light
As all smoked glasses are with colorful paints now
My fragile and emaciated body begin to rise
Anchored by my indomitable spirit, pale skin starts to blush
And my hair grows even more robust than pinctober’s thymes.
©2015Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Oct. 3, 2015 6.25pm
A is for Ability, to do something nice and tangible
B is for Beauty,of the mind and soul which is sensible,
C is for Clever;seriousness makes you brilliant
D is for Dogged;determination makes you radiant,
E is for Excellent,work harder to become clean,
F is for Famous,to be known you need to be seen,
G is for Great,a leader needs to have a sound mind,
H is for Honest,strive to be sincere which is hard to find,
I is for Interest;I love eating pineapple than wild grape,
J is for Junk;This should be avoided to keep in shape,
K is for Keen;it is good to have strong desire for success,
L is for Life,good healthy living-this you must access,
M is for Money;for this many kill and are ready to be hit,
N is for Naughty; Choose a good path and refuse to depart from it,
O is for Obedient ;Listen to the advice of elders to move forward
P is for Progress ;It is wonderful when one is going onward,
Q is for Quest; seek knowledge and truth for they are uplifting,
R is for Rest ;relaxing after a hard day is very uplifting,
S is for sorrow,when it comes,do not succumb or be swallowed,
T is for Time;it runs fast and needs to be followed,
U is for Unique ;garment of success is a nice attire to be worn,
V is for Value; you are important and of real quality like no one,
W is for Weakness,you need not be wary but very strong
X is for X-men,the world has been waiting for super-human for so long
Y is for Yummy; True greatness is delicious when consumed,
Z is for Zenith;to get to the peak,seriousness must be groomed,
No matter how tough the situation is,try to endure,
The road to greatness is a rough one for sure .
CONTEST:"Z IS FOR ZARIA:An ABC Couplet" Sponsored by Cyndi Macmillan
Candles burn low flickering,
brilliance ebbs with each flurry;
Focus fades midst bickering
waxing cold, dreams get blurry.
Slipping away, day by day
Wicks grow short the consequence
of waste and careless trimming;
Message lacks a permanence
because of dogged dimming.
Slipping away, cannot stay
Vigilance would glorify
Christ as the Light that kindles;
our darkness does signify
negligence, burned-out candles.
Slip-sliding far, far away
written 22 May 2016
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
Just because her face is dimpled
and dry
does not mean her heart doesn't
cry.
Just because she sings sweet-
love song,
doesn't mean there is nothing
wrong.
Sometimes we need to look a
little closer,
so that we won't end up being
the loser.
The fact the her stream seems
so silent,
does not mean they make no
clear comment.
The fact that she manages a
simple smile,
does not mean that her fate is
so fragile.
Sometimes we need to hold
their arms,
to feel the sound of a woman's
alarm.
Love to her is more than shared
emotions,
she needs a man with dogged
devotion.
She may gladly accept your
fragrant flower,
yet she prays to feel your
loving....shower.
And when she let lose her
tender tears,
a warm embrace will hold back
all her fears.
Do not charm her if you are a
cheeful cheat,
these weaker vessels are very
hard to defeat.
Do not make her a
mother...before time,
dumping a woman is not just a
common crime.
You will reap what you sow...
someday,
even if it seems she has nothing
to say.
(c) 2013
Adeleke Adeite
More rocks than soil on those flinty hills
Where he tilled the grudging land.
He chopped the sprouts and manned the plow,
With cracked and callused hands.
No stranger to adversity,
Through hard and bitter years
He wet the dusty, stony ground
With a poor man’s sweat and tears.
He was not a man you’d hear complain,
Though hard times dogged his trail.
He faced the foe unflinchingly;
His courage never failed.
He cried unto his unseen Friend,
A Friend who always hears--
To the One who sees and understands
A poor man's sweat and tears.
The legacy he left behind
Was not of wealth or fame.
On history’s golden pages
You will not find his name.
He lived a simple, honest life,
In a world that little cares.
His name was written in the dust
In a poor man's sweat and tears.
No rocks, no sprouts, no callused hands
Where he safely dwells today,
In that everlasting Eden,
Beyond the Milky Way.
Where hope ends in reality
And joy relieves all fears--
A garden where no one is poor--
And no more sweat and tears.
Boys grown to men
Bullets dogged to defend
Born with a strength
Their lives are of an unknown length
Left with a rage
With each and every letter they turn a page
Of another day of blood, sweat and tears
Which they will try to forget over the years
Hoping to be heroes of war
They wish to be so much more
To earn the praise of their fathers
The respect of others
Prisoners of America ego
Fighting feuds of long ago
A cult of government reign
For each and every death it is our lord that feels the pain
So many young souls that will be forsaken
And moments of time that will taken
Their is only one choice
To be answered with a hero's voice
A clear roll of the dice
An ultimate sacrifice
Of ones own life
* you will be missed
You are a very precious treasure more than a golden gem
Working so hard for many years serving your fellowmen
You shared your knowledge, strengths and whole self lovingly
For the benefits of all…making life so worthy for everybody
Your life with this job can be in diversions of path
At times you swerve, you just go ahead and never stop
Being dogged and determined in everything you do
All graces in life from God, through others kept pouring on you
As you are finally retiring on your noble job
You can look back and see your great achievements in life
Not merely on material things but on your career and infinite love
So enormous in the eyes of recipients and your friends around
Your retirement doesn’t mean, it is already the end
It is a new beginning to enjoy your rich rewards and blessings
It’s the most wonderful time to spend your whole life with your family
The alpha and omega of your love and generosity in your community
by Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
11/Sept/14
Hand Grown In Thyme.
On Brummie Sea and Burnley oak,
In bearded wood and clove
I hidey in this Mutton cloth
That strangles like a choke.
Lampooned upon this Ferris wheel,
A chuckle for a hoot.
I swung with empty boxing glove
And knocked a joke aboot.
I thank you from my Uncles chin
And dear old Auntie Pat
Who did asunder to a sin
And dogged her pussycat!
They trundled stubborn as a toe
And caring not a care
Sent humphing parties to and fro
Though knew not who they were.
‘Bejees!’ I crippled all a goat
What finery I’ve found,
Four friends in foursome charging free-
A bargain at a pound.
‘Well fancy that,’ a woman sat,
And bending like a river
Weaved not a spell but nasty smell
And sent me all a quiver.
‘How come you like to gape alewd?’
I asked but half an inch.
To which the Lady took a fence
And hit me with a pinch.
Divine Intervention
His name was Lynn.
We had nothing in common.
I – a city punk, twenty something,
High School grad, Ironworker.
He – an upstate NY, college educated,
beret-wearing, ”Spiritual Giant”.
Recurring questions dogged
this relationship….
….”Who am I?”
….”Who is he?”
…”Why have our paths intertwined?”
I don’t believe
he ever told me anything,
just left trails of spiritual
bread crumbs for me
to follow.
He always seemed to teach me
lessons I didn’t know
were being taught.
Guided me with firm
yet gentle words
allowing me to unveil
my spirit in the safety
of his presence.
I reflect often
on this Avatar,
this incarnate teacher,
stopping on his journey
to assist another
in their quest.
His name was Lynn.
We had nothing in common.
©11/16/2017
submitted to – AVATAR – Poetry Contest
definition – an incarnate divine teacher
Only wheeled things come in traffic
And not the meek earth-tilling brown hands
Coerced to stoop low, dogged to contrabands.
Spirits and bones chastised by stick,
A contract avowed played on a trick.
Now on the edge of cliff justice stands.
Only wheeled things come in traffic.
A trafficker should exist only in the lanes
To impede the hustling racing bands
and not to sell others’ flesh and brand
these humans whore in chains.
Only wheeled things come in traffic.
© Glenn L. Sentes
Adjudged 8th Place in Nette Onclaud's "Rondine the Traffic of Life" Contest
07-31-2012
Here is to you crazy fellas
Those who are covenanted to the religion of distinctiveness
And heralds of unique unthinkable patterns
Here is a salute to you
Those, who against the popular opinion and trend, stick to their principles and confession
Thus cementing their loyalty and guaranteed blessings
Here is a tribute to you
Those, who go against traditions in a bid to creating new arts and unconditional techniques
Thus cementing their status as dynamic civilization heralds
Here is to the dogged ones
Those who despite numerous failures, get back up and try for one more time
Thus embedding their names in the scrolls of the victorious
Here is a much needed recognition
Those, behind the scenes who humbly strive to attain victory, (which most people ascribe to another)
Thus laying favorable foundations, upon which their launching forth would be smooth sailing
Here are much needed encouragement
Persistently persist in your beliefs,
For in them you shall be celebrated
Give no cognisance whatsoever to people around, Who continually discourage you for they are spectators who must cheer for you when you make it
Love yourself much,
For you will certainly not feel the love around your environs
Love God best,
For only He can give you the strength to achieve all your heart desires.
#BASHORUN