Best Dowsing Poems
Life is a rocky road to traverse,
The destination is unpredictable,
Success is something difficult to know,
Failure is not unusual,
Life is like going dowsing,
Using wet noodles.
All is not well
In this kibbutz
Distant thunder
Suffers, pardons
Armour crumbles
In this temple
Does the keeper's
Soul surrender?
Aren't the roots here
In this dark soil
Drinking like some
Suckers should?
And we will stay
In this dim light
Dragging echoes
Somewhere else
Aiming blame
In others' corners
Dowsing these flames
So we can breathe
And the wonder
In our slumber
Dregs our blood
So sick, so sick
My Dad was a very practical man, so adept at many things.
Why, he could fix my bike and replace a watch's springs!
Many times I stayed by his side as he worked late into the night.
I learned so many things from him as I simply held the light!
He could tear an engine down and put it together again!
He could hang a garage door or replace a broken window pane!
He showed me how to tie a fishing fly and how to make a kite!
I learned so many things from Dad by simply holding the light!
Growing up during The Great Depression things were really tough.
He even had to repair our shoes with heels and soles, sure enough!
He was a talented carpenter who made sure things fit snug and tight.
So many things I learned from Dad by simply holding the light!
If the old John Deere tractor wouldn't start he knew exactly what to do.
He knew how to doctor his horses, hogs, cows and little puppies too!
He could butcher a hog in a trice and cure its hams and bacons right.
I learned so many things from Dad as I stood and simply held the light!
He could repair an inner tube, repair a harrow and shoe a horse!
He mastered the use of a dowsing rod and could trace water to its source!
Dad was and is my hero and taught me always to do things right.
So many, many things I learned from Dad as I simply held the light!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
city mesmerized
spell n dowsing of lighthouse
sea wind whirling through.
I walked up the rugged cliff for an overview
I was benumbed at the spectacular vista
Of the sunset dowsing out the fire
On the gorges of the grand canyon
I was benumbed at the spectacular vista
That was a delicious treat for my eyes
On the gorges of the grand canyon
The sun caressed the warm ranges
That was a delicious treat for my eyes
I treasured the kaleidoscopic moments
The sun caressed the warm ranges
Walled by the steeply layered rocky desert
I treasured the kaleidoscopic moments
An extravaganza of peaky rocks and plateaus
Stood firm gazing at the spectators gaze at them
The gushing ravines ravaged in the sun splashed gold
An extravaganza of peaky rocks and plateaus
Of the sunset dowsing out the fire
The gushing ravines ravaged in the sun splashed gold
I walked up to the rugged cliff for an overview
April 3, 2016
A Pantoum
For Eve Roper
mesmerized city
spell n dowsing of lighthouse
sea wind whirling through.
The sweetness of a babbling brook
Whispering softly, gentle
Over smooth stones, nuggets
Rounded and curved
By so many years of running water
Tenderly caressing each rock
With a quiet dowsing of liquid
Thanks for the home
Nestled in the bend of woods
A forest of contentment
Peaceful and blessed
Like a prayer being spoken
In chattering acceptance
Of God’s beautiful creation
The woodsy moment, in shadows
Breathless with affection
Graceful like the swirling waters
Warm like the morning,
Lemony sunlight piercing the skies
With heartfelt murmurs
Silent light shining with life
Expressions of hope, reflecting
The moments of wonder
Appealing to the heart and soul
In waves of kindness, roaring
Into the mind, soothing praise
In a voice of birdsong and winds
Erasing all the darkness
Pouring out faith into the core
Of the spirit’s yearning
For more of God’s restful vision
Alive in the one who knows Him
The way, the truth, the life
The answer to all pain and strife
The One who colors life
In hope and faith, love that is…
Jesus Himself
Arise from the mountains
Speak out from the shores
God, in all His mystery,
Arouses each heart to know
His captivating blessing
Mesmerizing the spirit
Sending out echoes of serenity
Into the heart who believes
He is the light of hope…
Arising like dawn, graceful
A peace that surpasses all
Understanding… it trembles
With its ability to give me….
Jesus Himself
The reason I feel so very blessed
The reason I love from my depths
The reason I know He is with me
Living inside, guiding my spirit!
--------------------------------------------------------
The Cinematic Film Treatment as poetic element
--------------------------------------------------------
Snickering Bastards
Two chattering ravens narrate a tale of blind revolution and seedy redemption, as we follow a Raisinseed V9.003, the latest hermaphrodite sex worker cyborg prototype grown by the Non Sequitur Corp from lawn cuttings, in her or his meandering narrative from birth to illumination, at the beginning of which we first see Raisinseed's body parts being vapor gun printed from lab rat DNA by Prof. "Bam Bam" Bernie Roundhole, who has secretly grown Raisinseed alongside an evil twin kidnapped with the Professor's connivance by gypsy low riders, deviously paid by the Bureau of Land Management, to detect clandestine ectoplasm at the FEMA Summer Camp Ouija Board séances held in a recently constructed chain link and razor wire facility in a devious scheme to harness the power of human gullibility, where the twins' only link to sanity and dietary sustenance was the giant artificial cow udder they both suckled with the help of a mysterious one eyed Hungarian ex-Tatar payroll robbing Romany Brigade railroad bandit turned private investigator (whence or hence the eye logo on his business card that read "DEEP, DEEPER, DEEPEST!"), the Sure Bet brand dowsing rod inventor, and his partner, the equally mysterious "Tubby" Tepys, who sells the secret Twin (named X for the purposes of this narrative) to the hunch backed majordomo of Castle Bathory, and who, over the span of two generations of political mud wrestling, reveals the key to the reuniting of the twins utilizing the tracking capabilities of a "Mark of the Beast" model branding iron and Homeland Security RFID laser detector which slingshots via the Einsteinian space time reversal dilemma in a mathematical simulation that employs the separated twins for an inter-departmental National Plasmatic Administration foundation grant fund raising public service announcement about the potential for life "out there", and they are reunited by men who shrink heads with the help of tungsten filament light bulbs.
(to be continued)
From "Theater of Utter Charm"
Available on Amazon
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
The Water Witch
By Elton Camp
Perhaps “dowser” is a preferable name,
But the two are actually just the same
Men who had this power weren’t weird
They were respected rather than feared
They sincerely believed they could tell
The very best place to dig or drill a well
And the key to the water witching trick
Was to cut a fresh, forked hickory stick
The tip was pointed up toward the sky
On its turning down the man did rely
The dowser held it as he walked about
That he could find water he didn’t doubt
When it went down toward the ground
He said, “This is the best spot around.
Drill your well on this very spot here,
That you won’t find water never fear.”
There is no way dowsing could be true
With a diving rod, the same I could do
Because I very quickly came to learn
Change the tension. The stick would turn
Water is in the ground most everywhere
It matters little if you drill here or there
Well was dry? On dowser ‘twas rough
His ruse: “You didn’t go deep enough.”
To trust dowsing, there is no reason why
Some people seem to need to believe a lie
I expect that some reviewer will come to say
“You are just so wrong. It works that way.”
shatterproof rain falls
dowsing my calla lily
— birdsong awaits bloom
5/17/2018
GOING HOME IN GATESHEAD 1952
Boy and mother walking home.
Sounds muffled, closed intimate silence. It was snowing.
Street lamps’ light of warm orange blazed a trail
Of modern life across the sorry, inner city of Gateshead.
Orange snow covering every horizontal surface.
No wind, just silence and orange snow.
Away to the north the industries of the Tyne
Were metamorphosed.
The leviathan gas-holder drum looked like
An enormous christmas cake with beautiful icing
Layered on its gently curving, shallow-domed top.
Valleys filled for miles with ropeworks,
Papermills, steel plants and power stations -
All disguised now in orange snow.
Coke ovens sending up mushroom clouds
Of white-hot steam every half hour,
As twenty-ton loads of red-hot coke were cooled by dowsing.
Oven doors two miles away over the valley would open -
The glare of the coke’s fiery furnace was a peep into hell itself.
Momentarily, it was all gone, in a snow-cloud from the Pennines,
And the steep, shabby streets falling down to the Tyne
Seemed to plunge themselves into an orange oblivion,
As the snowfall enveloped two tiny figures walking slowly home.
The boy turned his face up to catch flakes on his tongue
And let them fall into his eyes, lost in an orange make-believe world.
Saudade, assiduously dumping buckets of gelid-infused water overtop my vehemently flickering flame.
Arrogantly reigning my banished feelings of joie de vi-vre.
Undermining my drumming heart, snapping both ligneous sticks into splinters.
Duping our garish star, precipitating a myriad of inexorably raucous winters.
Absentmindedly amending my evocative, gaudy-slathered soul.
Dowsing my dullsville, dreary inside with black and white.
Etching my gunmetal grave with my name and date, sizzling my emotions with crimson cracked coals.
I live in a house
with roaches and a mouse
that I can never catch.
I live in a house
with a Louse.
Shes a loud mouth drunk.
I can't take this anymore!
Outside I lean against the trunk of a tree
and Think about dowsing that house
With regular unleaded.
but I CAN'T!
I still love that woman!
who lives in that house
with roaches and a mouse
that I can never catch!
Copyright 2011 JohnnyPaul Davis
Wonders await return,
Hidden within the pattern,
Concerning your connection,
The outer reflection,
Throughout thought selection.
We seek protection from ourselves,
As we delve into desires,
Dowsing our inner fires,
Mocking all who inquire,
And wish to move higher.
Seeking what they require,
To burn even brighter,
Acquiring a new state of mind,
A sense of peace hard to find,
as patterns grind gears,
Increasing our fears.
As they re appear,
Advancement is here,
As memories start to clear,
They fear my return.
Already feeling the burn,
Yearning for more,
Patterns fall to the floor,
Revealing the door,
I open and explore,
All the wonders I hoped for.