Short Plods Poems

bedouin camel
plods over familiar grains
bearing rich cargo...

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The donkey just brays
The elephant plods along
All spread manure...

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in silence
the shire plods his path
in footsteps of the past

Note: On holiday recently,we took a trip by canal barge pulled this way.Very evocative for me, as on my mother's side,her forbears were canal people,and thats how they happened to arrive here in my hometown....

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His village
is 
a plantation 
of privations,
where 
a variety of
sorrows grow.

Love
like corn 
lives
within 
a pale cover. 

Pain
is buried
in the furrow 
of misery.


Moneyless Majhi 
plods miles
with 
his stiff spouse 
on his shoulder.

Here
to live
is to burn
like dried cow dung.

First printed in The Literary Hatchet...

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with pebbles, shells and sand all awash
           in time's rejuvenating ebb and flow,

he wades along strange shorelines dimly seen
           that slowly shadow-dance with tomorrow;

he plods on, believing his belief lies
           in his borrowed valor against the dark,

across wounded and scarred cactus lands,
           to retrieve a lost fire's dying spark !...

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Incessantly it trods and plods
perpetual the pendulum
so long before the abbey bells
tolled and told of hours passing
before the ticks and tocks of clocks
or shadows crept with solstice gods
no one to worship at its start
when first it leapt with fiery heart
and in its wake our petty worlds
grow and wither and grow again
until at last a violent end
as time forgets and sweeps on by...

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I am a sojourner on a path
Unknown. My destination?
Only the Heaven’s Being knows.
Sadness plods me onwards; anger
Drives motivates me still. My
Destination knows me not
Nor I it!
Frustration – my fuel – fuels
My Feetwagon.
Perhaps, weariness has the better
Of this wary wanderer;
Perhaps reason does. It matters
Not.

This I know: no man, no thing
And nothing can or will make me
Go back....

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Rabbit brags
crazily;
Tortoise plods
lazily.

Rabbit gets
sleepy, see.
Tortoise wins
Easily.

Work ethic
is lacking;
Rabbit gets
shellacking.

Relentless,
forward, there.
T’s out front
by a hare.

Nonfiction
or fable?
Decide if
you’re able.

----------

Using more dactyls seems a good match for the form...

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/cethramtu-rannaigechta-moire-poetic-asides...

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He sweats, he grunts
  he plods, he plugs
There is't a ditch
  he hasn't dug

Works like a dog
  and eats like a horse
Though most of his meals
  are only one course

Had to quit school
  when his parents died
Got married young
  to his 'baby bride'

One kid after another
  took away his youth
Then his health took a hit
  Too much gin sans vermouth

Now at age 60
  He's old and worn-out
Nary a field seeded
  for memory to sprout...

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His
Twinkling 
Kiss hisses
How he will miss
princesses when homeward tiredly he plods.

We see his sweetest farewell kiss; so I'll,
Letting them kiss
As they wish,
Gently
Pass.

Picture 2

Syllable Count: 1, 2, 3, 4, 10 - 10, 4, 3, 2, 1 http://www.howmanysyllables.com

*3rd Place* in the following contest (judged on Oct. 1, 2020)

Sept. 21, 2020
Double Tetractys 3 Poetry Contest 
Contest Sponsor: Eve Roper...

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A spider thin calligraphy, a varicose script
upon the shallow sheen of mortality.

Are these the genetics of a divine act
arriving as green stems,
weeds and blooms all in a tangle?
A scratchy nib of doodled ideas?

Behold the dying and the replenishing,
the glory of the shedding.
All this upon a tumbled forest floor
where imagination plods daily.

More marks upon a blank page
developing slow
in the low light of scribbled thoughts.
More night flowerings and late sweepings....

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