"doddle" poems
The London*
underground
Shoes Chatterbox
Choo Choo train
Mr. Earl Gray
Greyhound
Doing cartwheels
Head over heels
Milk the Cow
"Going Moo" in her
Jimmy Choo
Yahoos
Kickapoos
The Odd Mom
Cocker Doddle Doo
Goody Two shoes
'Peekapoo"
The women living
in her shoes
All Mighty God
The dog to chew
Her most expensive
shoe
Lasous
The genius
La Cruz
Goody two shoes
That's show biz
Vacation Dr. Seuss
John Hughes
The master of clues
La mousse
Love truce X-File
Instagram, please smile
In her ballet slippers
He's at the Hub
drinking beer
In the London Fog
Her wooden clogs
Ladybird chirper
He's down to his
goulashes?
Got sidetrack hot
fever lovesick
La muse shoes
Cozy at the caboose
Playing golf in the
Gulf of Mexico
You ain't got a thing
if you don't have
the shoes to swing
Kick up your shoes and
start to sing
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
I LIE IN THE BOTTOMLESS PIT OF BITTERNESS
What have I done to life
That it kills me even though I lie
Down in the bottomless pit of bitterness
I am ****** down to the barest state of anarchy
Too choking and breathless, I can’t talk
Catatonic, I stand in dumb
Severe as I lay in me numb
I can’t wish to have life within me
I only choose to let go of it
If it will let me, leave me!
Leave me! Leave me! Life
For I hate you and everything in you
I am a genius, always eager to go along
You are too jealous of me
And capture me in your wicked web of limbo
That I may suffer and strip away like straw
Waiting to be burnt for the cloud smoke
I barely uphold my breath and strength
As tears and mucus mixed at my chin
All streaming down to my mouth
Am sick and tired of wiping
My weakling hand also tired of wiping
I’ll only let the constituent enter my mouth
Or pass down the earth
What have I done to life
That it kills me even though I lie
Down in the bottomless pit of bitterness
Rolling in painful rub of suffering
Dejection and rejection am screaming!
And sobbing as I struggle to doddle out
Of the brutality of life
Leave me; let me go for am tired
To be thrown, tried even tired of tossed
Who shall set me free, who shall deliver me?
Can you hear my cry?
Help me! for I am drawing
into the boiling ocean of life
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
I can't fry an egg, sunny side up
becomes nasty pulp
I'll try to do a roast
but you'll probably end up with beans and toast
I'll try to do a coddle
but it won't be a doddle
if you want cordon bleu
forget it, but I might attempt a stew
my dessert will probably fill you with mirth
you'd give it a wide berth
I mightn't be a good cook
but if you want a night filled with glee
come visit me
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC
Get to the Market
Some people take the back road
Others use the highway
Some arrive early
Some arrive late
Get the market
We all follow our own way
No persuasion
No need to jump a red light
A river will flow where it flows
Carve its own way
Get to the market
Some exhilarate
Others doddle along the way
Walk or run
You will arrive when you get there
Get to the market
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 5:41 AM UTC
Everything better simple.
Everything better with words sliced to size.
The chasm between
waking and not being waking,
all moments minute
and colossal lined up,
delightful in their plainness.
The making of friendships,
a cinch, interests shared
and food eaten,
laughter that ricochets from wine glasses
with a shrill giggle.
Then the maintenance work, a doddle.
Dialogue runs as blood through a body.
Time to see each other.
Time to make an effort
to make time to see each other.
Clutching onto loves
before sell-by dates.
Labels disposed of
before they are even affixed.
No rise of an eyebrow
when the different ones
open their mouths,
revel in the spaces
where they don’t fit in.
Decisions made without
a flutter of uncertainty,
a bubble of anxiety
that bounces round the brain.
Everything better simplistic.
Everything delightful in their plainness.
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
The mind is a misuse of reflections,
we gaze upon the maddening of our
life and make order from a doddle
of randomness.
"A tree barks, still no one hears it?
We have the wisdom of moments,
but are we still infants in the scheme
of our growth. Are we still crawling,
but the illusion of us standing gently wilts.
"Freedom is a leash, getting tighter everyday,
Sleep is the illusion of time, for we wake
reliving the same day, but envision it as new.
Time is non-existent, were just a tape replaying
different moments till its overplayed then just ceases.
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 5:50 AM UTC
The only big struggle
Is for money bristle
Finishes like a bubble
When we see Sin puddle.
Is this so thing doddle?
Actually it is a circle
Vicious; none to fiddle
As it makes one nuzzle
In their cozy castle.
Earlier there was raffle;
Making us quite subtle
In all innate our struggle.
Money’s single ripple
Can conscience straddle
Into treachery subtle.
So dear when see boodle
Don’t forget to whistle;
And flee away with chuckle
From this vicious girdle.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 12:17 AM UTC
3 months old little Paddle began to change
His fluffy yellow feathers rearranged
His new feathers silvery brown exchanged
A little taller in stature, neck now long
Mrs. Fiddle and Mr. Faddle waddle doddle
Little paddle, full of **** and vinegar
full throttle singing a song
One fine day his family got larger, they say
Mrs. Toodles, and Mr. Doodles and their
3 triplets aunt, uncle cousins, arrived today
Doodle , Caboodle, and Scoodle Triplets
The girls walking and talking liplets
The triplets Doodle, Caboodle,Scoodle and little Paddle scurry flurry off to play
Mrs Fittle, Mr Faddle, Mrs Tootle, Mr. Doodle between them not much to say
Frazzled and dazzled, caring for their offspring each day
The geese parents getting older
The Young gaggle of geese growing bolder
As the weather grew colder?
The familys stay away from the flock
Each day time takes away the ever changing clock
Both parents know one thing fear the dock
The first snippet and tip it good weather
No longer needing those thick feathers like a sweater
The sweet smell of flowers, hang in the air, lilac, and Heather
It’s time to learn how to Fly
The gaggle of geese begin to nervously cry
Trying to lift off the ground their parents
Not a sound, cautiously, look around
Keep trying, encourage, parent geese flying
Take a run for the sky lift off high battle cry
The exquisite excitement is in the air
Feathers to and fro flailing everywhere
The triplets hover lovers without a care
Little paddles Svelte feathers show a tare
Slowly draft drifted Earth bound
A shaky *** slump, defeated down
Mrs. Fittle, and Mr. Faddle right behind
Little paddle’s battle to stay in the air
Incidence grew in intensity with Care
The truth his feathers were just not ready
Sadly madly he wanted to soar not steady
His wings too small it was not his time
The hardest lesson is being left behind
Little paddle’s glorious day will come
He will gleefully glide, in the big blue sky
With Mrs. fiddle and Mr. Faddle closely by
Jun 2, 2024
Jun 2, 2024 at 12:53 AM UTC
A bitter taste of melancholy enters my lips.
With every breath I take your name lingers.
So faint but still just as painful.
Nostalgic memories of a lost time.
When both you and I were happy.
We were one.
Ripped apart by petty sorrow we lost it.
We lost that light we both had.
I could not love anyone.
Only you.
My feelings still sewn deep.
Buried within my heart.
The need to hold you.
Kiss you one last time.
Feel the warmth of you once more.
That I will never experience again.
Eternally unsatisfied for no one could ever replace you.
I sit and doddle with my lingering heart.
Waiting for the day that either you return or those useless feelings finally subside.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
A beautiful and sweet girdle
Collecting it is quite doddle
Counting is like a hot fettle
Touching it is a bit brittle.
Let be the Geeta or the Bible,
Let be grapes or pineapple,
Importance of money able
Is not be explainable.
Money can make a castle
Or buy handful cattle
Or can earn a good title
Or can bound to peddle.
All is easily possible
By the mint boodle.
Carry them in a duffle
Or in a golden vessel,
It is going to be a rouble.
So friends value a boodle
And crave for it to chuckle
The taunts of world little.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 12:12 AM UTC
A clown I be so won't you look,
behind my cloak so fine.
In-between my special song,
I move with silly rhyme.
I dance, I wink, and I do smile
my light of happy moves.
When you meet me you will feel,
delighted inside grove.
Grove to let go all worries,
to move in harmony.
Laughter is the key so grand
to drift in life so free.
I do plant a seed each day
so inner child comes through
It is what I love to do
to bond with you so true.
Doot la doddle I send love
Doot a loot ya hoo.
Deep inside you are a clown.
Just let it come out too.
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 9:38 AM UTC