Best Blowed Poems
In 1890, cowboy Bob Womack found gold at the base of lofty Pikes Peak!
In short order a ramshackle town was founded called Cripple Creek.
Hordes of gamblers, 'soiled doves' and prospectors hopin' to make a buck,
Heeded the call of 'Pikes Peak Or Bust' and fled west to try their luck!
This 'peaked' the interest of a young Hoosier feller named Oliver Pence,
Who ordered a shovel from the Sears Roebuck Catalog for eighty-seven cents.
(He called Cripple Creek, Cripple 'Crick' since that's how Hoosiers speak!)
He strapped the shovel to Fred his mule and headed west his fortune to seek!
Oliver staked his claims and his shovel left many a diggin' 'long the way.
His shafts and holes in the hills and vales can be seen to this very day!
He'd found a few nuggets and a bit of dust but didn't 'mount to much.
What he did find he'd blowed on gamblin', whiskey, wimmen and such!
Often, he'd lean on his trusty shovel and muse 'bout his fate.
He talked to the shovel, sayin, "We ain't had much luck as of late.
We'll winter in the cabin and come spring we'll continue our quest;
I'll strap you on old Fred and we'll head fer them hills to the west!"
Seasons came and went and Oliver wasn't seen 'bout town much anymore.
On a cold and dreary day, friends found him stiff dead on the hovel floor!
They dug his grave with the shovel and buried him outside the cabin door.
Six feet down the old shovel struck gold - the lode he'd been a-lookin' for!
Little Bo-Peep adored playing hide and seek, hence the fond nickname;
Just as hued rainbow is named for its dazzle, so radiant over every lane!
Bo-Peep was eight, and lived on a farm. She had various loves and joys.
Her world was full of magic and make believe, and she had sparkly toys.
But Bo-Peep loved more than anything, tending peaceful, fleecy sheep,
A task she'd only recently started. She loved the gamboling and leaps!
Friends Frances and Faye flew kites with Bo-Peep, in berry colors, deep;
And loved folk dancing at sunset flame, under the fuchsia sky mystique.
Familiar February had fallen fast, and yielded to fresh, fragrant flowers,
In leap years of fevered, family visits, when green bared mystic powers.
Bo-Peep lived in the house of enigma, ever hailing moments unfamiliar,
When moon and sun played hide and seek, as time turnt gold and silver.
Red robins roamed rouge, dusk skies, near the royal, Ranunculus Road;
And buttercups really brightened the rosy route, where breezes blowed.
Nature knew nothing but budding, when neighbors visited the sunlit days,
In a nectarine season of noble lives, when they followed the golden rays.
Crimson bellied birds faced ruby sunset, raining its beams like cherries;
And 'lady of the night' orchids reveled in moonlight, observed by fairies!
Elegant orchids were dressed up and dancing, along hot streets of gold,
When 'blanket flowers' draped stuff with color, prettying the dull and old.
One day Bo-Peep got lost in a daydream, as the frisky lambs wandered.
She abruptly realized they'd all gone! Like seconds eternity squandered.
No bleating or baas could be heard, and there was no sound near or far;
For, not even pink robin was heard in that moment-in a stillness bizarre!
After searching the farm in vain, Bo-Peep confessed it all to her parents,
Who were calm, wise to ways of sheep; as diamonds ken facet moments.
'Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,
And can't tell where to find them;
Leave them alone, And they'll come home,
Wagging their tails behind them.'
Everything was coming up roses by dawn, like burgundy sun and blooms;
And the lambs had all returned, like spring green, emerging from its tomb.
I am going to write a poem about peace
My brother-in-law passed this week
And my mother-in-law was all frantic and in shock
I just want to tell her that all is well
And that God will be taking care of her
Are all is well
when there's so much things going on?
Are all is well when you just lost a loved one?
Are all is well when your whole world is falling apart
and the person you had been relying on is no longer there?
Are all is well when you have creditors at your door
and you don't know where your next meal is?
Yes my friend
All is well because you have the One who is in control
All is well because you have a Deliverer who will give you peace
and deliver you out of darkness
All is well because "He will never leave you or forsake you"
All is well because you have the One who knows what is to be and what is to come
All is well because He lives in you and will not give you over to the evil one
All is well because "greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world"
All is well because He knows so and said so
Isaiah 3:10 "Tell the righteous it will be well with them"
2 King 5:22 "Everything is all right"
"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope." (Jeremiah 29:11)
So you see, God is in control
When things fall apart around you, you will not fall apart
You will be like a new leaf taking on new oxygen
Ahh leaf does not take oxygen
I mean you
You will take new oxygen
Blowed it to you from the old man - the Master himself - God
So don't worry, okay?
Peace will go with you
Love, the Lord
"Hyar she comes! The weekly stagecoach is a-comin' to old Santa Fe!"
The driver cracked his whip and blowed his klaxon to herald the way!
The weekly arrival of the stagecoach was cause fer raucous celebration!
The town's ne'er-do-wells found another excuse fer excess inebriation!
The excited citizens one and all awaited its arrival with bated breath,
To see and greet the motley rogues brought to town by the driver, Seth!
Seth descended from his perch midst snarlin' curs and guttersnipes,
Gun-totin' hangers-on, genteel ladies, the sheriff and other sundry types.
Grizzled Seth cut loose a stream of cussin' and in a furious rage,
Yelled, "You'uns clear the way and let them people git off'n the stage!"
His bedraggled passengers set foot on the dusty streets of old Santa Fe,
Happy to be relieved of the stagecoach's nauseous lurch and sway!
The Baptist Ladies Guild gasped when down stepped a lady of the night,
But she was greeted by the fellers of Buster's Saloon with a cry of delight!
Next was a feller all dressed in black scannin' the crowd with a gloomy glower.
He was a preacher-man causin' fellers from Buster's Saloon to cringe and cower!
A steely-eyed dude with 44s on his hips viewed the mob with condescension,
But his shifty manner put the sheriff on alert and merited his attention!
Down stepped a foppish dandy wearin' diamonds and dressed in fine attire.
He was a gamblin' man aimin' to see how much town capital he might acquire!
Seth hollered, "All aboard! I gotta git to Albuquerq' by six tonight!"
He whipped his steeds to a gallop and soon old Santa Fe was outta sight!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
KANSAS WHEAT FARMERS
The sky so still, one summer's afternoon,
as golden seas of wheat filled up the eye,
this was our dream, and harvest time was soon
but then the dark came to a troubled sky.
The clouds rolled in, and thunder filled the air
as winds blowed in the scent of coming rain
whipping our sea of gold from here to there
and ruthlessly tore at each golden grain.
When all at once, the wind died to a still
and sinking hearts, as stones of hail fell on
to where the dream was helpless to the kill
and beaten down--the dream we had was gone.
Then kneeling in our faith--though now in pain,
we pray for strength to try it all again.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Last night
You were my Ray Charles song
My Maya Angelou Poem...
Didn't we experience forever
during that moment
you brought my soul home?
Bob Marley plays on Pandora
in that long episode
to be continued
my mind was blowed...
I liked it best when we danced slow.
There are some things that will last forever
Like that memory
I will never let it go.
This is an ode to Sally-Jo,
Her silver spurs and the horse she rode,
As their mighty leap slowly unwound
They jumped the Grand Canyon in a single bound,
But it was deemed wind assisted as a hurricane blowed.
My ol' memory is hazy
And sometimes things don't seem too real;
But I can still recall the night
That I danced at the Wagon Wheel.
Well, seems I was in a good mood
And was puttin' on quite a show;
Prancin' on top of that slick bar
And yellin' like a crazy crow!
I wore my new black Hoppy shirt
And a pair of Gene Autry boots--
They say I danced till 'bout midnight
And did all them ol' cowboy scoots.
Then outside that saloon window
Comin' in was a gent in black;
They said he was that bogey man--
Since that night I never been back.
So ends my honky-tonk story;
Like Red says: "It's saucered and blowed"--
I never danced for drunks again
Like back when I was four years old.
An', as [music] blowed an' blowed,
I often looked up at the sky
an' assed meself the question--
what is the stars,
what is the stars?
Juno and the Paycock
Sean O'Casey
Our sacred choir
prepares a new anthem
which, in summary, goes:
I have the deep soul blues today,
so Give Me Music.
This troubles me
because Music erupts from within,
more primal than a commodity
to be delivered on command.
What is wrapped and presented from outside
we may hear only as voices with rhythm
and harmony
and unresolved dissonance--
but all these together
are not yet our enchanting music muse
fully investing
infesting
musing through us.
Choral inside resounded music,
resonate through all four voices,
sharing our deep-rooted muse,
blues soul longing to speak and dance
music of the stars,
To come home again
where we have always shared soul belonged
inducing peace.
Sacred choirs
do not usually demand of matriarchal Earth,
Give Me Music!
More likely we invite experience
of more resilient inside dancing muses
healing like anciently redundant starlight.
I feel angst in soulful mourning
that cannot be healed through commanding
Give Me Music
or anything else, for that matter.
But, loss does invite deeper experience of resonance
and small bits of creatively digestible resolving dissonance
to feel better
about absence of remembering
What is our starlight soul
but well-sung dance
enlightening solidarity?
If we are asking Earth
to heal us with the Muse of starlight mystery,
then, indeed,
Give Us Music's full harvest
blowed an' blowed.
Shall I relay a sidesplitting hoot from my “care-free” on campus fun phase?
It entails a laboratory session involving three mystic world colossal oafs.
One had an unerring penchant for Laurel and Hardy mishaps, the other this beautiful dreamer whose attention span rambled for miles.
a meandering focal point tourist with no yen for one spot or one task.
As for me the fault-prone narrator I had comic book deficits too.
Pulitzer Prize petty fog pinpoint, fastidious fat head by gum!
At the hearth of this tale is a chemistry prep that was doomed from an innocent outset.
It was aptly enough “Anodyne,” this soon to be splitting head bushfire.
From uproarious weighing scale howlers, to starter material gaffes, to say nothing of sequential missteps, Mount Everest blunders galore.
Our ill-fitting glassware threw tantrums, miscellaneous beaker’s burst dams, reactants rose up, a calamitous farce, they shed buckets of organic stuff down the sink.
For all my precision I seemed a right goof with this risible maximum brownie point fetish.
My beautiful dreamer close comrade who by turns Walter Mitty pale stand-in now immune to chaotic abandon at large.
That accident-prone other pal
would be every insurer’s worst nightmare.
Nearby class mates could barely restrain widespread glee at us laughing stock hapless quaint bunch.
The poor teacher in charge had a seizure, quite gormless, green faced and gobsmacked.
“I wonder what next can go wrong.”
“Quite frankly I shudder to think as you merry buffoons soldier on.”
This thunderstruck teacher was known as the “doyen of do it right down to the dottiest detail.”
After a humorous pause his eyeballs rotate in jocular mode then made a ginormous grand gesture.
“Put this jinx ridden self-destruct day in some tuck away memory file.”
“Write a one page report, say the gremlins prevailed and I’ll give you an average mark.”
“For goodness sakes don’t blow this offer like you’ve nearly blown
up my whole group.”
On an ironic note “doyen do it right” gave a brief safety course start of term.
It seemingly fell on deaf ears.
I’ll be blowed as my parents once said when life took a damned awful turn.
We three “Einsteins” in technical garb almost were, blowed that is!
Posted ; 11th January 2022
Bloody women drivers! They’re a curse upon the road,
yeah those bloody women drivers, near make me damn explode…
now I’ll give you one example of just how bad they are
when right now I’m driving down the freeway in my car.
I am on me way to work when I look over to me right,
and I just could not quite believe this detrimental sight,
a woman speeding past me, shocked with a huge surprise,
her face was at the rear view mirror putting liner on her eyes.
I shook me head and closed me eyes, then opened them again,
and by this time she’s past me, halfway across me lane,
yeah, still working on her makeup, zigzagging the freeway…
I don’t scare too easy… but boy, this time me hair near turned to gray.
Because I dropped me bloody razor that knocked the toast out of me hand,
and me mobile phone slipped from me ear and then I heard it land
into the cup of coffee that’s between me legs… and it is boiling hot,
so I burnt the contents of me groin that left a very tender spot!
I had to straighten both me knees that held on to the steering wheel,
and I swerved on to a grassy bank to add more fuel to this ordeal,
me pant’s were soaked and mobile phone… it’s ruined by it all,
and worst of all I’m disconnected from a most important call.
So I say… bloody women drivers, they are concerns upon the road,
I don’t know how they get their licence… but hello… I’ll be blowed,
I can hear a siren now behind me, yep; I’m sure the cops’ and I agree…
They’re gunna book that sheila, and want a statement signed by me.
Back to the same wall of hates,
I am tried, I am so tired,
Of this pain,
I wish I can pell this skin off,
And throw it back at your face,
I hate liars,
I hate all my friends to death,
I hate the way they are,
Rude, liar, back stabbers anything that you say,
They hurt me deep in my neck,
I feel like choking and throw up right on your face,
I don't know how to say how much,
I want to get this out of my chest,
I feel disgusted by your faith,
I never felt so lonely,
In my life as I feel now,
All my friends walked away,
They lie straight up in my face,
All they say is lie, lie, and more lie
I don't care about your life,
And what have you done in the past,
If you don't want to say,
No point to lie just keep away,
You know the truth will come on its way,
You can hide not for to long,
I can't take it any more,
I can't trust anybody any more,
I feel frustrated and in the deepest cut in my chest,
I hate this world with passion,
I just can't take this no more,
All I ever ask for is a true friend,
Someone who doesn't lie,
And be my best friend no matter what,
Someone who is respectful and not mean,
Someone who I can trust with all my heart,
Someone who I can count on,
I feel so depressed,
I feel like no one understands,
I feel like everybody is a liar,
I wish I had a friend who I can have forever and ever,
The ones who stay not run,
I wish I could stop crying,
My heart is blowed with pain,
I hate this, I hate this so much,
I wish someone can understand me,
What I am going throw.
If a leaf fell,how would it fall according to sound?
Is it that of a brisk?
Not of the leaf but the night chill we feel..!
Was it a swift that the wind made when it blowed it by you?
It was sound of a russle you heard as the wind brisked it through.
That of a cover falls as the mist forms around the moon.
It is that of fall we feel chillin our bones.
The whisper she calls out.
The wind of natures way.
The leaves fall and yet another season has played....
CHESAPEAKE BAY AFTERNOON
We'd made our plans to be at play
down Anne Arundel way
just boating, my dear love and me
and happy on the bay.
The wind came whipping from the shore
and blowed to Baltimore
it filled our sail full as could be
that's what a wind is for!
The sun danced in the ocean spray
and took all care away
my love was there beside of me
and made my heart to sing all day.
We put in to Patapsco's shore
dined on crabcakes galore
before our dreams put out to sea
and left us bound for Baltimore.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa
N.W.A
Negus With Altitude
Children of Israel I have to floss the Jewels
the devil watch an since hell hot I exhale the truth an cough cubes
living in the artic zoo
Lucy lu polar bears loose
hell on earth i immune the fumes
Blue flames now im Super Saiyan Blue
against dragons
an witches an wizards black magic
but Im Aladdin created out of carbon ashes
to a Diamond in the Creators Image of a Black Man
from the Southern Kingdom of Judea Of Judah
An Gad while im Wise as Serpents to have Discernment of Judas
flames of God with fire of a furnace while looking in the eyes of Medusa
turning her into brimstone
Resurrected out the valley of dry bones
while i see the devil sitting on a throne of skulls
While i see flying souls around him thats been sold
and all he had to offer was lies and gold
i wrote this fire in hells kitchen on the stove
then the furnace pipes blowed
then a hole blowed open of the abyss
filled with a Spirit Bomb inside that doesn't tick
i aint the only one with the eyes to see the glitch
I shine cause of my Jeweler
you know it's scary an peculiar
when freddy kreuger has nightmares of your future
It's evident that im heaven sent with the testament with a bow an arrow in my fist tight grip
with a medal as my necklace my shoes reddish
make the devil sick
an which red represents fire as my element
the devil tricks was that he has never exist
while the poor poor an these devils rich
while the ghettos stench full of piss
but it was all pArt of the prints
lost who we were coming off the ships
according to prophecy it all makes sense
Im in Gods Army