Best Doss Poems
Help me save just one
They are so many
I have reason for no gun
I refuse the use of any
Use me to carry him
On my back to safety
It’s now dark, dim
Just one, help me
To what am I assigned
Why am I here, if not for Thee
These men are left behind
Show them mercy, I implore
To what extent, oh dear Lord
Please God, just one more
They are wounded, dying
Hear my plea, just one more
He was a conscientious objector
He would be the first to be awarded the Medal of Honor
He for his actions in Okinawa for his service in World War II
His religious convictions as a Seventh-day Adventist
He refused to carry a weapon
He initially faced opposition, persecution
He would be ridiculed from his fellow soldiers
He ultimately won their admiration by demonstrating courage
He served as a combat medic
He refused to kill an enemy soldier
He chose military service 1942, at Camp Lee, Virginia
He was awarded two Bronze Star Medals with a "V" device
His exceptional valor in aiding wounded soldiers under fire, honored
He saved the lives of 75 wounded infantrymen
He was evacuated on May 21, 1945, aboard the USS Mercy
He was Corporal Desmond Thomas Doss (1919 –2006)
Categories:
doss, soldier, war,
Form:
Rhyme
There, watch, the clouds part and light shafts blackest night
particles of doss drift through a ray of white.
Ah, revelation unasked for, and unwanted,
coming endlessly unasked, and never daunted.
I see the bitter blight of man's neglect lay
upon the once fertile field of summer hay.
I see a mighty ocean writhe and foam, die
and n'er a voice is lifted, n'er an angry cry.
I see children put their parents out to die
and parents who accost their children with lies.
Ah, revelation unasked for, and unwanted,
coming endlessly unasked, never daunted.
Categories:
doss, introspection, nature, parents, children,
Form:
Couplet
Along aisle of twigs, moist brown leaves and stones,
Clustered bellflowers guard as I ramble
Whispered chord echoes from choir of bushes groans,
The rustles, a beckoning preamble
Shady sky-high trees of wrinkled clothed moss
Healthily exhaling thy cool fresh air.
Tongue satiates divine wood spring, I doss.
Finch trembles chanting rosary keys pray'rs.
Built organs from pines tunes mellow reeds
Gentle soothing blows invites butterflies
There flights harmonious lambada speed
Squirrels one fugue pitch share a lullaby
Golden rays peeps through gnarled branches of trees,
Casting apes acrobatic seesaw dance.
Glorious forest homes choral life thee
Who will dare and miss such enthralling chance?
(c) Olive ELoisa
1:03am
June 23, 2014
placed 4th.. :) to God be the glory.. :)
Categories:
doss, environment, imagery, mystery, nature,
Form:
Verse
Once there was a good man called Doss, the Boss
scape goat for all, tried even by all idiot asses
no idiot will see him as intellect nor ass
all see some dimension of ignorance
bloody what ignorance could an ignorant see in doss?
Categories:
doss, humor,
Form:
Limerick
I should be with playing with my sister, on our bikes in the park.
Racing around and playing games outside, coming home just on dark.
Instead I'm in some doss house, taking ice and smoking dope.
No wonder people look at me and think that there's no hope.
I should be home for dinner, happy conversations around the table.
It's the time of day that I miss, now it seems just like a fable.
Instead I'm on the street, hawking my body and doing tricks.
Just enough money for some drugs, so I can get my fix.
I should be doing homework or hanging out with all my friends.
It seems a distant memory now, I can't see that I can make amends.
Instead I'm in some dirty alley way just lying on the ground.
A crack pipe jammed between my lips, no dignity to be found.
I should be at Gran and Gran pa's house, for Christmas lunch with everyone.
Giving and receiving gifts, sharing fun and laughter after lunch is done.
Instead I'm racing in a stolen car, completely off my head.
It's a wonder that I'm alive at all, I really should be dead.
I don't even wonder what the future holds, I exist from day to day.
Doing crime and doing time, my master drug I need to pay.
I should be with a loving family, but that doesn't exist for me anymore.
I've worn them down too many times I could not but grace the door.
If you could walk into my house, see the family photos on the wall.
Then take a glimpse of me now, I'm not the same happy child at all.
Even mum, dad and the other kids are different people now.
The drug addicted, junkie child has changed them all somehow.
Categories:
doss, addiction, betrayal, sad, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
An attempt to play with words; pun intended.
The first stanza is dedicated to persons who feel aloft themselves i.e. place of work, among peers, anywhere
Second is meant to encourage people who feel like a failure
Third is dedicated to those who are still discovering themselves!
And the last one is for those who have lost their way I.e. their morales and good upbringing; who are willing to make a change and make it all better again!
You think you’re the boss!
But you don’t know pride will only make you burst
Don’t you know you’re just a moss?
Lacking sufficient sunlight and soon to be at loss;
Because by the winds you would be toss
And you would be nothing but a doss
Hey! You! Yes you! Why do you fuss?
Is it because you feel like a wuss?
Now I really think it has become a must;
That all your bothers you should dust
For when you do, faith will make you the first!
Most times I feel like a bust
And I know it doesn’t feel fair or just
For sometimes I might be nothing to you but a frigging rust
But I’m certain I represent trust!
On some rainy days I truly feel lost
And drenched in the delight of lust
My convictions and beliefs seems to fust;
Then all I long for is a moment filled with gust
Now all I am is a message on a post;
Spiraling and living my life the most!
Categories:
doss, anti bullying, appreciation,
Form:
Alliteration
Don't let me hurt with these two helping hands again
A lot of reasons Satan gives us. We say, "Don't worry, God forgives us!"
But what excuse could I give Christ to hit humans?
Don't let me run to war with comrades, boots and gun
I'm not saying it's not right or that there's not a righteous fight
I can't discern the time to kill if there is one
Don't let me seek a chance to prove my wretched self
You have much more than tongue and word; yes, to fight You is absurd
And who is Christ in battle to need help?
Don't let me speak with any malice in my mouth
It tastes like teeth against the lip and this is not a clever quip
I think I've seen enough of matters going south
Don't let me find myself immersed in evil thoughts
My flesh was forfeit at the cross, but my heart and soul were not
This peace I have came to me at the highest cost
Matthew 5:39 KJV But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.
2nd Corinthians 3-5 KJV For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh: (For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds;) Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ;
Exodus 14:14 KJV The LORD shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace
Psalm 127:1 KJV ...Except the LORD build the house, they labour in vain that build it: except the LORD keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.
If you like this poem, watch the movie "Hacksaw Ridge", a true story about World War II American Army Medic Desmond T. Doss, whose convictions opened the way for God to perform a great miracle through him!
Categories:
doss, christian,
Form:
Rhyme
the loser is you
the doss of stone left alone
marykate olsen
Categories:
doss, art,
Form:
Haiku
A golden spoon gilded vase by heirloom.
Acolytes shouldn't be anxious with gloom.
There never seems to be a shortage of cash.
One person's treasure is another's trash.
Gratitude from a large group of people
Gold sludge had fallen from his steeple
Deeply genus to all those who hailed him
Many, yet, quietly loathed his petty whim.
He lost all his money on a gambling spree
Peers faded in the dump; plain you can see
Revered and blessed at a party and dance,
He left this earth friendless and in a trance.
The rich and famous are held in high regard.
Face truth if they no longer have any; it is hard.
Why do poor individuals seem to have no friends?
Consider where man's splendor starts and ends.
Life is a chimera, for it is steadily shifting
Running toward the break line, men drifting
Why do we even strive to live if we must die?
Why are we playing if we later must cry?
Everything fades away, and nothing will last.
All the stars have been stripped of their cast.
Since death is prevailing, it is unwise to be wary.
Just cope with it, either in bliss or by being scary.
Realize the ultimate truth: dying isn't the end.
Once found, each truth is doss to comprehend.
Starting a fresh life, we are struck by the curse.
Love is the ultimate truth at core of the universe.
Truth, as gold, isn't found by increasing its value.
Drain all but gold, and gold will never devalue.
The ultimate truth is to be in a flawless state.
Mature minds agnize genuine truth as fate.
If we can grasp and ponder the ultimate truth,
It's going to purify the mind of grime and sleuths.
Forging sincerity for each other is a key step.
As such, the quest for the final truth is vital and pep.
Categories:
doss, analogy, appreciation, change, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
I was asleep when I saw him at my beside.
He gasped the dark air and tried to hide,
I stretched my arms wide but it was in vain:
few feathers amid my fingers was my gain.
A mark I found where no one should see.
I blushed, half in panic and half in pure glee,
Did he missed or did he hit the right target?
Oh, may he attack me again with no regret,
This time I will clasp my hands together
And I will catch more than one feather:
Oh, love, we will craft together a new doss,
I want your victory, I delight with my loss,
But there is a secret I will quickly share:
I captured you with my first morning stare.
Categories:
doss, love, morning,
Form:
Sonnet
The more I learn, the more
I realize how little I know…
which insightful, gutsy,
entrancing, catchy apothegm
attributed to Socrates by way of Plato
subsequently self ranking myself
amidst Phylum Chordata with the Dodo bird
Class Aves (namely
said extinct flightless winged creature
with a mass of 29 – 51 pounds Oh!)
once endemic to the island of Mauritius,
east of Madagascar in the Indian Ocean,
none would be espied,
no matter how thorough
going across aquatic spreadsheet,
one might row
eventually coordinating
dropping vertical column in toto
arriving back to original
mentally ponderous premise
gamboling feint enroute to see
Old Man Wizard Of Oz
meets Crow Medicine Show
pitching thy quasi recursive query - bro
ching concurrence with another maxim to boot
“ignorance iz bliss”, which lack o'learn'n
doss appeal to this old coot,
yet such pithy accordance came
to this smart ass to late,
a mister wordsmith
with a palm pilot maximum glute
clamors (at risk of life and limb) to hoot
and holler when new kernel
of knowledge gleaned finds me mute
as if raw bit of savored information akin
to unearthing a rare gem,
or rare species of newt
temporarily allaying fervent quest to root
thru hefty tomes of great literature,
and tracts that suit
many other subjects,
less to be arrogant and toot
my own horn, but more so...
to satisfy an increasingly
insatiable hunger grow
wing nsync with unquenchable
thirsty ambition less for dough
(cuz bing po'
with treasure trove of voluminous
expansive bookish notions doth shaw
surpass becoming suddenly wealthy tin pot hustlers
with un hewn fifty nine shades of gray straw
this haint no cowardly lion seeking Androcles
to extract thorn from hum my faux paws.
Categories:
doss, 12th grade, atheist, dad,
Form:
Free verse
gale to bluster, sleet to bluster, worst whacked are hobos around huts cluster.
nowhere to doss, tempest to toss, yet another sucker punch sweeps across.
with big boot to field, with big stick to wield, arrogative hosts of imperial capital always have big deal to yield,
so august the majestic center, so wretched the lowborn hobos, ouster order seems to get it best addressed,
with wish we roil, for wish we toil, how come repayment of repellence proves us a foil to the soil sordidly steeled?
humanity they tread, hostility they breed, how bleak it is to plead for the creed they've professed!
empty as the firmament is, vast as the earth, no habitat for us o'er the horizon strides caste chasm.
much as we wail, much as public opinion vociferates, the sacrament highest held hails from their behest.
astray our kith and kin adrift our kismet, ashtray accommodates our enthusiasm, echoes with their gleeful spasm.
ouster order, peremptory, outrageous, sledgehammer; its wide-ranging aftermath ne'er to be redressed.
Categories:
doss, abuse,
Form:
Rhyme
Sand of Time
I was on my way to the doss house near the railway station,
it was quarter to eight -had to be in by eight or lose my bed-,
when I saw her in the restaurant talking to her brother, they
shared a bottle of wine. My god, she was as beautiful as ever.
And since it was dark outside I reckoned she didn’t see me,
her brother looked out; perhaps he recognized me because
he bent towards her and whispered something, but before
she could look up I had disappeared into shadows. It was now
ten to eight I ran to the doss house run by The Salvation Army.
I could only have a shower once a week and had been wearing
the same suit for a long time. It was a grey worn suit, but it gave
me a sense that I had some dignity left. However deep a person
falls, he can get up again and in time buy a new suit. This evening
remembering my time of wretchedness, and it struck me I can no
longer remember her face.
Categories:
doss, hope, lost love, passion,
Form:
Blank verse
We are in Xanadu. A million lights are dancing and there you are, a shooting star. An everlasting world and you're here with me, eternally Xanadu. BY "JEFF LYNNE"
"Xanadu," "Nirvana," and "Utopia" pop to mind
This ideal, flawless universe is so entwined
Utterly nothing, and nobody, is horrendous
We merit success and remain stupendous.
Rough Neanderthal had an ideal life in Xanadu
There is tangible evidence that the drift grew
Youthful synergy would be vast if it were true
Impugn if he knew an odd breed of kangaroo.
No fighting, no wars, and no fists hoisted
No one shall yell, or words to be twisted
However, a longing sigh has just been heard
"Love" is no extra than a doss four-letter word.
There can't be peacemakers without strife
No therapies are doable if we live a mild life
There is no strengthening through adversity
There is no xenial appreciation or empathy.
You had to tell people you were in Xanadu
Yet, like a swaying tree, distress close drew
Without misery, there is no room for kindness
We bear no solace or getaway, only blindness.
Without failings, there would be no people
Still, we need humans, not a tree or a steeple
Utterly unfit to uphold virtues and reach purity
Simply wishes to swap impunity for security.
1st place contest winner
Written: April 27, 2023
Writing Challenge - Words With 'X' - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Categories:
doss, analogy, appreciation, beauty, creation,
Form:
Rhyme
Pain , Pain, all around I see.
Pain and hopelessness,
in hollow eyes, of the old and sick.
The dregs of society.
Wandering from one Doss to another.
Filled with despair.
Too old, or sick to work.
Though many are intelligent,
well educated, they are rejected.
Thrown on lifes ever growing heap.
For whatever reason,
they gave up their struggle,
and now they huddle,
in a jumble of confusion, disorder and mess.
In their cardboard homes,
Neath the cities domes.
Till the street cleaner moves them on.
With cold jets of water in the early hours.
I wonder how many of them fought for our freedom?
Brains damaged from the fight.
Reduced to this sad plight.
To be re-paid with this uncaring upheaval
Categories:
doss, angst, life, sad,
Form:
Free verse