Poetry Niche – August 2025

After 60 years of penning verse with no end in sight John Thomas Dodds, a Can/Am expat retired in Mexico, continues to write poetry exploring relationship, spirituality, creativity, and his romance with life. Since moving to Ajijic John has, under the pen name J.T. Dodds, published several fiction and non-fiction books.

He is presently working on his 18th poetry collection focusing on “The Art of Being Human”

John Thomas Dodds

BECAUSE OF YOU

It was the last sigh of a century, a gold nugget, ankle deep,

in a cold mountain stream, that captured the eye of a dreamer.

Forevermore: a bougainvillea the color of her lips, her smile,

a pale red blush of sunlight breaking through the cloud train.

The winner in a game of chance. A reality check, not unwelcomed

having weathered unquenchable thirst, tempered in stillness.

This tangled vine, called love, freehearted, yet constrained for

want to know no other than her. The impossible, improbable you.

Love, lust, faith and dreams; the taste of honey. Divine digestive.

In the afterglow, slow moving in a headwind. All because of you.

With Pelican courage authentically dancing in a turquoise sky.

Clarions ringing the bells in wonder; silence of favor and content.

This solitary lover. hands made to grasp the wind. No longer trailing

in shattered crystal. Searching empty pockets for memories. Now.

Finding myself in you. This millennia, a soft ending to call home.

Welcoming a journey’s end. A gold nugget of love in my pocket


ESTO LO SE

This you know

is where the water springs forth

where we bathe

in the luxury of life

and slip beneath the surface

barely a ripple

for having been here

some of us hang in here

like energizer bunnies

daring the universe to let go

some miss the morning

wake up call

and leave a hole

in the evening sky

where once a star shone brightly

others just tired of it all

we send on ceramic vessels

to where good memories

come to rest

in the underwater shrines

of Lake Chapala

This you know is where

we all come to say goodbye


GONE DANCING

at first we danced the mazurka.

we were younger then

our steps in tune to the beat

of our hearts, waltzing

in and out of each year

always chasing rainbows

in a whimsy fantaisie.

now that life is a polonaise,

a slow dance on the ivories,

we can look forward

to an evening nocturne

and on this special day

a romantic ballade

to dance

to the music of you


POET

I adore you Pablo,

poet of the seashells

crawling from the sea.

poet of the bleak landscape,

jeweled realm of Beetlebacks,

and small touchable everyday us.

poet of the foam of sea

chaffing on a stark shore,

the grain of us, the red & blue of us.

I eat your words and they consume me.

after your death.

after your broken sea polished glass

was swept into the dustbin of memory

myth, story, poem,

wearing mourning black

children of words

waiting for the sky to unfold

waiting for the precious stones

buried in your forever mind


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Mel Goldberg
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