Best Dowsed Poems
Where would I live if I were richest, and had all the money in the world?
Outside the square box, where no doors exist, and locks will never block
My entrance or exit, without four walls or framed bricked structure this
Is where I’d live and do now!
Again I’m asked where this address is, what fancy abode or country,
This location the French Rivera, or maybe even the city of romance Paris?
Nope none of these places will do for the likes of me, my substance
Is worth more than glitz’s and glamour allow, after all am I not
The richest person in the world?
I live within the valley of the thunder storms heartbeat, where flesh
And bone melt together as one unit, here passions lightning collide
Against the rocky torrent of desires epic flame,
Never to be extinguished or dowsed, by emotions ocean of doubt
Or regret!
But again these outsiders ask me once more but where, we’d like
To know, for we’ve never heard of such a place, give us the answer
To this riddle of yours Madame, for you are the richest person on
Earth the world must have the answer, as the paparazzi flash
Their gossiping, chattering, Cameras!
But these hungry mongers will never know the truth of the matter
At hand, for they’ve never experienced truth wealth of feeling,
Or valued anything but the almighty dollars golden card, of worthlessness!
Oh what an empty world, do these poor souls exist upon, a baron plain of
Dancing dollar signs, where false illusions seem real or tangible to the
Touch, but in reality are delusions images melting away, as time fades
The fame to the beauty factor unto nothing remains at all!
Nay I’m here in reality’s penthouse on high, beyond the fake staining of the
Smoke and mirrors game being played below, in this devotional residence
Without numbers!
For again the question was and is where would I live, if I had all the money
In the world, I’d live within the heart of this man whom dwells beside me,
He who’s sacrificed all for me, loved me always through thick and thin,
My shoulder of endurance and tenderness!
For what is true wealth my friend, but love itself my world begins
As his eyes open in the morning light, and ends when his close at night’s
Final twilight hour, where do I live within this man whom loves me!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
NOVEMBER 11, 2015
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BABY OF 55 THOMAS
Categories:
dowsed, beauty, celebration, happy birthday,
Form:
Free verse
Memories
Memories rest in tender frames
Picked over, chosen, kept
As real are the scorching flames
Those dowsed by tears wept
A day, a week, a month, a year
Roll by without respite
Gathered, attached, more appear
Of hurtful and delight
Memories rest in splendour frames
Each one a work of art
Torn from joy, laughter, pains
For body, soul and heart.
Categories:
dowsed, memory,
Form:
Quatrain
In the hold tears are shackled
White eyes stare dark corners
Bare breasts hang limpid
Humanity dowsed in sewage
The slaver pitches, rolls
Each wave a fathom from home
Each trough a deeper despair
The screams and creaks in rhyme
Lost souls ghost the gloom
Living meat on planked beds
The stench of shame fills the air
The cry for God but no one there
The slaver ponders onwards
With its holds of sins
Black gold, worth in weight
Only time holds their fate
Bilges slurp of piss and degradation
Chains chatter, implore salvation
But the lash comes quick
Skin and hearts so easily broken
White sails on waves of shame
Sullies forth in evils name
Devil smiles at man's behaviour
And fortunes gained on slave labour
On the quay in lines they stand
Commodity of a human brand
And brand they will, darkened skin
With each mark a white man's sin
Dark these pages of history
Have we travelled in our thinking
Just how far have we come
The nettle of conscience does it sting
As racism still festers in the heart
White sails still float waves of shame
Categories:
dowsed, history
Form:
Prose Poetry
The night sky is of winter's grey seasonal turn and
deep within my soul, a chill comes from where
love's frozen embers still burn.
A cool breeze from across the sea does blow.
I know it was only yesterday, but I miss you so.
Living without your warm embrace, has left me
feeling alone and so out of place.
Tonight I snuggle to your memory and silently
pray you can feel and see that losing you has forever
changed me. Missing love's clinging attire, leaving only
the embers of what once was a raging fire.
Although I am frozen in time, a small ember remains
and each time it tries to burn, the flame is dowsed with
sliver of pain like ice, the same way it was, the night we lost
our dreams of a life. To live without you, how do I learn?
When my soul and I are waiting, where frozen embers still burn.
Categories:
dowsed, absence, deep, emotions, farewell,
Form:
Rhyme
Gliding in on the hot summer wind, Lady Noon
The phosphorescent pied piper of the Dune
Our infamous Pearl of July
Sand paper tears spring to my eye
Her sultry petrichor perfume
Scratches our parched throats
Our hardened arms exhume
The first crop of oats
And I fell for her, clay red and dry
Befuddled by her beauty, sweet
Her tongue dowsed me in deceit
Heat stroke melodies, her siren’s cry
Categories:
dowsed, july, seasons, summer,
Form:
Rhyme
Fumbling through a sheen of yellow
the land and sky merge as one.
and earthly song goes silent.
The stage is set for death to breed,
tendered by phantoms, catching the unwary
these purveyors of men’s souls
The rats were the first warning,
blind panic the second.
The sting on the eye brought the fear,
the search for the mask the doubt.
was it by my side or did it fall,
Into the mud or by my gun.
Focus, Focus.
Shaking hands, remember the clip,
the burn in the eyes is it too late.
The feel of rubber sticking to my face,
breathe slowly searching for the cough
heart ready to explode, relief the smell of air.
Then silence replaced by the gurgle.
The gurgle of dying men walking blindly
grasping for air, but the air has gone.
Replaced by the yellow that kills
that yellow which delights in a slow kill,
that torments the sanity
of the view behind the mask.
To watch a man die in corrupted lungs,
to see his sweet words of life,
replaced by a froth that no one should see.
The mercy of god is elsewhere this day,
as the eyes blister, his body writhes
and the light is dowsed from his existence.
Yet still the burning pain remains gathering its strength,
rushing through the brain.
No lasting thoughts of home,
only pain, manufactured by Adam
the gurgle, the last words of a dying man
And I who have survived will witness this,
every day of my life,
and people will say “there goes a hero”
a soldier of the Great War.
And I will accept their drinks and cigarettes,
and for a moment I will forget
The yellow that killed my friends,
but the yellow will return
The yellow that will always follows me,
hoping for a helping hand,
a rope, a pill, or a shot,
the choice is yours.
As long as you make the roll call right
But the yellow can never take
the memories,
that my comrades gave to me.
For they are immortal
and my comrades will always watch over me,
As I will of them.
And the yellow now fades from memory.
The ghosts will walk no more
for the ranks are full
the last Tommy has passed away.
The trenches are gone,
and the poppies are histories reminder
Of what has passed this way
Categories:
dowsed, war, words, yellow,
Form:
Free verse
it is heaven on earth, some say;
a paradisical playground,
peopled by bronzed angels in miniature
and permeated by fragrant incense, by jasmine,
by the toll of a temple bell.
it is an eastern jungle,
a tangled fairytale thicket of woven dreams and flimsy ecstasy
- the land of milk and honey...
a tantalising idyll, i do agree,
but in my bullet-riddled heart i know the truth -
i have penetrated the veil.
alas, my darling, i hate to break it to you
but that milk you sup is curdled...
and the honey is mixed with blood...
and those angels are devils
hiding behind gaudy masks and heartless smiles
turn your back for a moment, they'll rob you blind,
leave you sprawled on your back in a dirty alley,
a knife lodged in your spine
....not that it matters,
because we love being led like naive lambs to the slaughter,
we flock to paradise in droves,
eager, thirsting, with zombie eyes,
to have our purses drained,
our hearts broken and the smiles torn,
in cold blood,
from our chapped and sunburned lips.
masochistic to a fault, we thrive in a den of sin,
in this turquoise sea of personal degradation,
on the malicious glint behind the smile of a tropical queen
...but in the darkness before dawn,
as we cushion our heads on tainted sand
and gaze up at unfamiliar stars,
we are forced to confront the yawning gulf inside,
the hollow yearning that drove us here,
wealthy waifs and strays dowsed in Chanel No5,
to our spiritual deaths on this island paradise
under the impassive stares
of those wee iron-fisted angels,
beneath this yellow oriental moon
Categories:
dowsed, death, placesparadise,
Form:
Free verse
~ Sounds To Sleep By ~
A Poem by Debbie_Philly
Sounds To Sleep By
The sirens pierce through me like a sharpened dagger
something is smoldering in this small corner of my city
the neighborhood is dowsed in dark and treacherous acts
I sit on my bed wondering which direction they're coming from
should I duck from the window, will this be the night that a
stray bullet rips through my flesh like a hungry angry violent
virus.
The same virus that has claimed so many lives young and old
too many to count to this date, WHAT IS THIS ****!!!
I thought I was immune to the sounds. I hear them all the time
While I watch TV, when I eat , as I write, in my sleep……..
For some reason tonight is different tonight I feel it too
damned deep…. through my thick skin as it penetrates
my soul seeping through my lungs,stifling the fears I
can no longer express unable to scream.. STOP !!!
Tonight I feel it just too damned deep .
By : Deborah Mills Kelly ( Debbie Philly)
Revised Version... original written about 3 years ago :)
9/18/2011
Categories:
dowsed, spoken word,
Form:
Verse
Inglenook
She, the face in the embers,
The remnants of a raging fire,
Smoulders like a cigarette
Between lips of lustful desire.
Where men stoke in gay abandon,
Pokers hot as blacksmiths arms,
To fade and die in the ashes,
The inglenook of her charms.
Breathe, breathe, smoke inhale,
Fill your lungs, my laddy, my son,
And when you spit the bloody spit
What manhood will be done?
Ten a penny, 'tis Rose and Jenny
For whom you shall but die,
But it is dreams of her raging fire
That will burn the smokey sky.
She, the naked, fireside chat
Will weep upon the ashen grate,
And you dowsed her, her inglenook,
How it sealed a young mans fate.
Where flames rose and flames fell
Like the dance of a harlots fare,
And you, the gasp of life and death
Did often purvey her there.
Breathe, breathe, my laddy, breathe,
How dare you die so young,
The inglenook knows many tunes
But you have hardly sung.
Ten a penny, yet be you broke
And deader than her yearn,
She, the face in the embers,
When once, my son, you burned.
© RJVHorton2016
Categories:
dowsed, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
A lovely flower dowsed upon the lethargic rocks
Gruesome idiocy lead to the battlefield of soldiers
Cynical viewpoints closed like a lock
Peace crushed in between the burdened boulders
Fickle truces built upon greed
Fighting oneself is our demise
It's usually about what you and your family need
How sorrow does arise
To whom are we really fighting
If we are only fighting our own
Rage stricken lightening
Many go without a home
Why begin an age long war it it defeats its purpose
Instead of killing each otherwhy not protect instead of being so hopeless.
Categories:
dowsed, angst, environment, grief, international,
Form:
As the rain pours upon us
Wetness dowses you and I
Meant not, to detour our paths
Nor, to cause us grief or pain
Sent to us
Through sorrow
What have we done
The lord cries
Dowsing us
Not rain
But fallen teardrops
As they dripped
From his saddened eyes
And still
He hands us sun
To dry us all
From the wetness
That dowsed you and I
Categories:
dowsed, rain,
Form:
Verse
drink your 5 year old milk,
boy! I know where you live, stop painting your nails
like a girl, boy! Aging copper
tones cut corners in my ink-
stained eyes from the lies you told, melted from the heat
surrounding this empty day. From the dust
the day arises, filling in the gap between the other dust
which is now floating in your milk.
Oh horrid image of powder-milk—in the heat,
No less! An image I would have nailed
To the back of the ink-
Tarnished vapors in your head, loner. It all goes copper
Under the sun’s furious copper—
Melting rays. Ashes to dust
To my pen, once full of ink,
Now wasted. No use cryin, spilled milk
Is the least of your trials. Nail
It to your face and watch it ferment in sun’s heat.
Heat that will kill you. Heat
That will burn you up and melting copper
That I didn’t want anway—like copper nails—
Only in existence to Bind me Rusty or turn me to green dust,
Worthless anyway. Then I wouldn’t have to drink your damn milk
I’d get my own nutrients instead—I’d drink the ink
From my pen. My soul comes out inky,
Spills dark revelations on a page that burns in the heat
Of my gaze, always staring. Then dowsed in milk
To cover the burning sensation of my copper
Nose. Amethyst, the shiny purple—also to dust
It turns. We build jeweled crutches out of nails,
Crutches we use to walk on, or trip over the deadly spikes of bedded nails
Jutting forth its powerful poisonous ink
Staining all that was once good, makes it dusty
And kills me, burns at the stake, the heat,
Too much to bear. Dangling my copper
Jewelry singes my white milky
Skin. Using my nails I scratch me for never drinking enough milk.
Melted ink pours over rich copper
Which turns to dust…I’m done with this last sip of milk.
Categories:
dowsed, on writing and words,
Form:
Sestina
As a red fireball sun rises
Setting pine silhouettes ablaze
A damp coolness really disguises
The warmth soon to flow from gold rays
Doves' cooing entertains quiet
Roosters excitedly invite
A welcome to day's varied diet
Another gift from God's good insight
All of nature seems excited
Another day of love to the fill
While mankind lingers benighted
His dreams dowsed mostly unfulfilled
Categories:
dowsed, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
A decidedly good morning,
Risen upon the land—yet—
More risen are the eyes and the
Lips that plan to speak blessed things
Mustering out a smile
From a despondent stranger,
As they return the favor
With a gracious compliment
City life bustling in joyous
Productivity—lighthearted humor
Inspiriting the pleasers
And complainers alike
Daylight lapsing—pulling shadows,
Making way for
Memorable evenings,
Dowsed in hospitable company
2.20.20
Note: Something a little lighter today!
Categories:
dowsed, beautiful, beauty, courage, culture,
Form:
Romanticism
You plague me with your sweltering disease
My heart throbs in unease
You carry me off to a far-off island
Your breeze keeps me flowin’…scraping sand
Your names escapes my lips
I tell myself,
“Get a grip, dude…”
But you decided to intrude...
My blood drips to the floor
I’ve been losing balance…
The instant you pushed me aside
Your quietude devours me…
I can’t help, but hide…
I feel horribly disheartened…feelin’ too insignificant
To start my day with a good note
Too discouraged to be motivated to run…
You trade me your pain in the past
I consume it like a bear
My stomach is churning persistently…you’re running too fast…
I’m dowsed in despair
My eyes stare vacantly…into space…they roam happily
Your vigilance keeps me safe and sound…I dwell in your tranquility
Your dreams caress my own…
This intriguing comfort never makes me feel alone
I’m under your dazzlin’ spell…
This is heaven – not living hell!
I’ve been bruising myself over you…for a while now
The moment you abandoned me that night…
Your rejoicing mends my gash…heals my mind…
I think better of you – everything’s black and white
I feel so exquisite when I’m around you…
So inspired to reveal my might…just shine your light
On me…and remember to meet me at sun rise…
But I still feel malnourished…
By your sweltering disease
My heart refuses to beat in perfect rhythm – my high hopes nearly perished
By your forceful breeze…pushing me on my knees
I’m stumbling off my feet – I’m not at all pleased
I’m not in the mood to be teased…
I’m suffering…I’m not discreet
How did you push me off my feet?
Why do you make ME feel so damn miserable and incomplete?
You plague me with your sweltering disease
My heart pounds as I fall upon my blood-stained knees
You carry me away to an unknown place
Your voice still rings in my ears… I glance at your admirable face
I’ve faced you way too many times –
Your sparkling with majestic brilliance and pure grace
Categories:
dowsed, angst, beauty, confusion, courage,
Form:
Free verse