"dodder" poems
*
***Do not guide
I need not to be tied
Just show me the sunlight
I will take my flight
Not so creepy, just a creeper
Not a dodder, just a seeker
With you i grow
Just a vine
With you, I entwine
Till the end.....***
*
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 8:05 AM UTC
I Stand firmly with my hands relaxed cause the kid looking down on me just cant FADE me.
His eyes smirk with disdain as he rubs against the grain but my years in the realm keep my hands firm at the helm just smirk him right back and now he's feeling wack cause I slipped his attack and the punk can't fade me.
See...my body is tough and conditioned. Swift still powerfull and lithe.
Six decades see I aint ***** made ....still cool as the shade and makin the grade...I moved in and stayed...aint shaky and the kids cant fade me.
Payed those dues early and often.....not boasting. Just love confounding young ducklings snotty lil fucklings.
My mind is quick I pay my dues...use it or lose it...no aint bout to dodder become cannon fodder for rooks with no stripes... talk that **** if I have to.
Walk that **** too.
Blessed and respectfull.
Man I love checkin chickens who get it wrong.My body is my carriage my spirit an amalgam of knowlege and physicality.
They try to cubby hole.This old dude dont fit mold.
Kick your *** and get witty. Aint fresh of no *****
They shake their heads or feign disdain g
But again and again they misread. Down for the de de.
Aint no play pretty.Energiser bunny. You cant fade me punk.I might spank your *** like your uncle.....Nephew.
Your hands cant hit what your eyes cant see.
You cant chump me off play me no dozens. I aint old cause I'm lucky. Plucky.
Every dog has his day and one day the magic will end ask Houdini ..... ..... but till then my young friends,this old man's gonna play nick nack on your **** And ya don't stop and ya don't quit. FEEL ME ? Cause ya caint fade me.....Yet.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
Everywhere there is darkness descending
Gradually threatening to take over humanity
The only audible voices is of grievance
Diminishing light of the eyes; only vices visible
The parasitic dodder has destroyed crops
Pests and locusts have abducted the grains
Starvation is causing uproar amongst people
Waterways and the fresh rivers are contaminated
Every drop of water has turned to poison
We are all exhausted and smothered with desperation
Covered in dust and mud, the minds are all paralyzed
The sun’s rays now obliterated the ozone layer
Ultraviolet rays now degenerating us faster
Ocean’s have breached the lands at alarming rates
As if rubbing salt over our wounds and despair
There is anarchy, protest and resentment everywhere
All humanity is up against nature, trying to salvage
The last remaining hope to save this Earth
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:05 AM UTC
In the heart of Dublin's misty embrace,
Where cobbled streets whisper ancient secrets,
I stand, a pilgrim seeking solace,
And weave my tale of love, redemption, and forgiveness.
TheThird Key, a relic of our shared past,
Lies dormant, waiting for its turn to unlock,
Not a door of wood or iron, but the chambers within,
Where echoes of hurt and healing intertwine.
He, the wanderer, once lost in shadows,
His footsteps faltered, love's path obscured,
Yet now, with courage forged through trials,
He approaches the threshold anew.
I know you are sorry, whispered by the wind,
Carried across the Liffey's silver ripples,
A melody of remorse, soft as the harp's strings,
And I, the listener, attuned to its bittersweet refrain.
Patience, a virtue etched into my bones,
For time dances differently in Dublin's alleys,
And forgiveness blooms like wildflowers,
Resilient, despite the scars etched upon our souls.
He, the alchemist of his own transformation,
Brewing potions of self-awareness and growth,
Each drop a testament to his inner aliveness,
As he raises his vibrational frequency, inch by sacred inch.
Undying love, a tapestry woven with threads of hope,
Stitched by moonlight and whispered promises,
I hold it close, this fragile gift, and offer it freely,
For love, once kindled, burns eternal.
And so, my Love, as the third time approaches,
Know that I stand here, arms open wide,
Compassion flowing like the River Dodder,
And forgiveness, a beacon guiding us home.
Third time's a charm, they say,
But ours transcends mere superstition,
For in this Dublin twilight, hearts entwined,
We rewrite our story—a symphony of grace.
Let the third key turn, unlocking not just doors,
But the chambers where love heals and forgives,
And may our souls dance, unburdened,
As we step into the charm of forevermore. 🗝️💕
Dec 22, 2023
Dec 22, 2023 at 4:08 PM UTC
I’ve reached that age where I dodder
And when I forget becomes fodder
For impatience and often abuse.
I apologize but it’s seldom any use.
I have learned to smile and tip my hat
As I am now the oldster I once laughed at.
My face tells a story with every wrinkle
And it now takes me longer to ******
I have to get up two or three times a night
Which means my kidneys aren’t working right.
Getting up from a chair is a three part thing
And I can’t do it without some moaning.
I’m very glad for a thing called remote control
Because it’s a saving grace for growing old.
I moved the coffee maker closer to my chair
So I don’t have to walk so far over there.
I’m thinking of swapping my end table in a smidge
To replace it with a my own personal mini-fridge.
That will save me even more trips over and back
By loading it with sodas and some clever snacks.
Now just in case some might think I’m ********
I’m not, it’s just that my habits are now switching.
It another phase of living life, is all it means
Like switching to Sansabelt slacks instead of jeans.
I had plenty of fun when I was young and foolish
So, there is no sense of anyone getting ghoulish.
I’m full to the brim with carefully gathered memories
And a scant few of them could be called miseries.
Mostly I have been pretty much a happy kid
And now enjoy the wisdom from all I did.
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
It is 6:45 am; weary eyes stare into a wall – unfocused and aimless
Each blink heavy; every breath filled with void
Dodder down the passage, meeting folk who couldn’t care less
Hark to their pleas of ‘Keep hope!’ and Alas! Thou art decoyed
Hope will aye usher in a new world, sure
Of bluer skies, greener lawns, and merrier smiles
The perfect silver lining to rose-tinted eyes pure
And stay there thou shalt, yearning for golden times
It will deflate one day – the delusive scheme called ‘Hope’
Dreams now shrapnel, will cut through tenderness of thy being
Holding heart wrecks, a scathed soul will mope
Albeit thy life be torn asunder, my dearest, bypass the hope swing
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 1:06 PM UTC
My thoughts get polluted in the short span
of time it takes them to run to my tongue.
Intent evaporates, I find myself
spewing banality with confidence.
Dubious sense of humour fails to land
a punch; I dodder past with a faux grin.
Finally it’s time to pass the baton
to another unwilling candidate.
I nod pleasantly as we continue
our dull charade of camaraderie.
Once upon a time being sociable
meant exchanging infrequent messages.
The small talk prattles on… I think about
the lost luxury of writing letters.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 12:29 PM UTC