I did not, in any sense, desire a fight with my eye
The eye that keeps greedily taking glances,
Seeking to convince my soul to allow
Beauty,
fleeting pleasure,
and the glory of youth.
For indeed, youth is glory:
A flower that blossoms for a season.
For there lie a myriad forms of fruit,
And every fruit begins at a seed.
A seed suffers shame in many ways;
At times, a bird may take it as a snack.
A choice, in a way, must be made at the level of the seed:
Either be consumed, or be sown.
Both paths satisfy an innate desire.
A youth may take it as a snack;
An elder may sow it and allow it to rot for formation.
One fulfills a fleeting pleasure;
The other postpones urgent gratification.
In every path, some desire is embraced.
Yet at the sunset,
One is further advanced in multiplication,
While another adores only flashbacks.
In all, a need is met
yellow slicker loves the rain
little girl’s ponytail bouncing along in time
white daisy petals drinking greedily
Your brain spilled like wine
Roots severed in gory detail
Thorn's twist around the vine,
I loved that you were not fine.
And you ate my leftovers
greedily: an apple core, a slice of salami and my chocolate cake
infantile on the couch curled, my
Caterpillar cucooned in bedcovers.
I loved that you died
by my side
Reverse birth and I knew you'd do it
I knew you'd done it when I walked
through the door
and it smelt like silk.
In the kitchen, where the hob held some sort of memory
I thought of how my red legacy spilt through
the white duvet,
And how
you could never make a fuss when I didn't stay
And how you could never really cook,
though you tried to.
Every step I take I know I will regret
Thump
Thump
Thump
Each step is a step closer to the place I hate most
But can I really say that when it’s the only place I feel safe?
It’s my own mini-home, so why must I insatiably and greedily want something better?
It’s not like it’s ugly or small, smelly or uncomfortable, so why must I hate it the most?
Each step I take is a step away from what I long to have
Will they love me one day?
Will they ever want me?
Will they grow tired of trying?
I don’t mean to, but it’s only second nature
I leave like the selfish child they see me to be
Have I ever been a good child?
Have I ever given them something to love?
Have I ever given them a sense of completion?
This is what separates me and them
Every step
Every time I go forward, I lose something dear
Every time I go back, I lose something dear
Insaitable, am I?
Greedy, am I?
Their dark, unwelcoming, a path to doom but for some reason I still march forth
Thump
Thump
Thump
I’ll never say it out loud
I’ll never tell them
They miss me, I know they do
They tell me
They give me that gaze
Their eyes tell me all I need to know
It’s too late
I lay to waste
Earth-centered
omnisciently questioning life,
overindulging Anthro-preoccupied
questing enlightened faith
Wasting Anthro-centered
wealthy sacred life,
overindulging Ego-preoccupied
hunting haunted organic lust
Wasting Ego-healing opportunities
for Earth-centered yielding trust,
greedily grabbing for immortal identity
Laying to waste
Earth-centering communion
omnipotently questioning mind re-imaging life
unconditionally extending
body remembered love,
overindulging Anthro-monopolized
power questing infamy
Caste abolishing
Anthro-decentering
wealthy organic EarthTribe
healthy sacred life.
Alive not living,
Past era keeps reliving...
Freedom's misgiving.
Independence sighs,
What freedom frankly denies...
Cum pure lawful guise.
Where one sorrow smiles...
In democratic cool styles,
That shield violent miles.
Eyes travels in mind,
How leaders should have been kind,
But greedily blind
Right to live on earth-
Is no Nigerians by birth,
Only Govts have worth.
Unlike the Indians,
They are humanitarians
But ours- comedians.
Indians celebrate...
When will Nigeria equate,
What growth's checks operate?
Like how courtship's will,
Wish marriage's freedom fulfill...
Relationship's thrill.
Independence day,
India and Indians to weigh...
How hell the past stray!
Congratulations!
Was it only yesterday we met
or have the days between disappeared
greedily consumed without regret
and do we both grow old, as we feared?
Surely it was only yesterday;
those years cannot have so swiftly passed;
yet we celebrate a new birthday
so, so very quickly since the last.
I behold there is a space between
that offering of the first bouquet
to what presently our love does mean;
but it seems like only yesterday.
Beneath the dusty streets where children play
the twilit baneful torture tunnels lay
where many innocents are laid to rot
among them, some still breathe but countless not.
Among the dusty streets, the children act
their role to maximize a shock impact
on our naive, jaundiced media types
greedily turning up to earn their stripes.
Amidst the dusty streets, the children shield
the homes where missile launchers are concealed;
not one child wished to execute this role;
expect to pay the devastating toll.
In dusty streets, now innocence is lost
and children’s lives are nonchalantly tossed,
by tribes with little desire to debate,
upon the altar of ancestral hate.
dark clouds gather round
they rush and collide in sky
igniting fireworks~
wind howls, clouds fly past the sky
fast is the change of weather
wisps of rain dripping
dry land sucks it greedily
belch of steam rises~
heat waves abated for now
earth leaves a sigh of relief
soon the rain grows weak
and now its rattle is stilled
leaving waves of thrill~
like a sweet symphony stopped
making the hall fall silent
Cooled off to take a sip; two.
Greedily waking up; fading
of the whole cup - butterflies,
trees, flowers; drips touching
the final vestiges of Antigua.
Fear ascended into the canopy,
slid along the line; work gloves,
gripping. Incomplete instructions,
lack of common sense, slowed
me down, with my feet off
the ground. Grounds remind me,
in this creamy, courage cup
to not give up, keep going with
support. I had to leap, to land
but otherwise I had support.
She, too, had courage, sans
my tears, my heart-pounding,
insane fear of flying; her words fly;
she’s shorter than I. She lands
on her feet. I’m behind. My friend -
a curious word; we shared a towel,
kissed dolphins; I hit her in the head
with a pingpong paddle (playing
doubles). Too close, these icons
of finance (we sailed upon a -ship
with). Friendship ebbs and flows.
You sea, you don’t need to pay.
Breach causes a realization. Suck-
cession of time and space, happy
place, but I soak in the memories
of once upon a time. Sipping,
sliding, incomplete instructions,
gliding, gladdened by adventure;
and even the brevity of affection.
Is it rude to tell a bald man
a hair-raising story
- "Your speaking ability and his hearing
are not related to his lack of hair growth" -
Sorry for the raspy sound -
even bugs have the right to be heard and seen
The mosquito burrows greedily into the shiny skull
at the expense of his unhappiness
The spirit of Bloody Mary
drive the victim crazy with intense itching
Mosquitoes drinking your blood until they burst
Just how bloody is; Bloody Mary ?
(the ultimate cure for hangovers)
Protect your bald head from bright sunlight
... and bloodsuckers
I stood in front of the mirror
As naked as could be
The goal was to make an estimation of me
I saw eyes
That overlooked truth for lies
In order to prepare a drink
For lips
That greedily sipped
To strengthen breasts
That harbored contention
To energize feet
That blindly followed the path of dissension
I stood in the front of the mirror
After scrubbing vigorously
The goal was to make an estimation of me
I saw a face
That was searching for forgiveness and grace
To be prepared with strength
So as to cleanse a heart
That had been ripped apart
In order to open a soul
That held the key
To unlock a truth
That launched real freedom and beauty
Finally Tomorrow (c) 2025 by Russ Dodson
it's finally the morrow
that I feared would never come
but here it is and that is why
my heartstrings softly hum
from all the love you've given me
that greedily I take
to you I promise with this vow
Your heart I'll never break
for I can never get enough
of feelings soft, yet tough enough
to wrap me up within a warm cocoon
you are a being wrapped in light
you truly are my heart's delight
reflections of a sacred Flower Moon
I am yours as you are mine
this love we share is quite divine
I pray that we might be together soon
?A grumpy grandpa (from Greece), gruff and gray,
is grazing on a grain of grass, graceful.
He’s grumbling that the grim grave is growing
greater and greedily greeting his grasp.
San Francisco Soulmates
You discovered the ever-seeking soul in me!
Looking for truth, for all of mankind to see!
Unaccepting of all common, unquestioned beliefs.
Ignorant, educated dullards brought to me,absolutely no relief.
Late, late into the foggy evening’s very last twinkling, summer star,
Plato and Aristotle, greedily we devoured, while riding on a cable car,
And, although you now are insensate and in an impenetrable grave,
See my soul, my sweet, for truth, it rants and in my poetry, madly raves.
Tribute to my Late Husband
With Deepest Gratitude
Inspiration:” When You Are Old”
Great Author: W.B. YEATS
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