Best Dust Up Poems
I Am Poet
I see the way they look away
though I know that they don't know it.
I see that they think less of me
when I say that I am Poet.
But they can't see the heart in me
from times of love demanding.
They can't see the scars I hide
so they lack the understanding.
Quietly they roll their eyes
a half smile on their face.
Quietly I watch and wait
until everything's in place.
Through many years, a million tears
I've watched them as they're broken.
Before they can begin to hear
the words of comfort spoken.
Like a book that has no value
collecting dust up on a shelf.
Suddenly becoming priceless
once you've read the book yourself.
They cannot see that part of me
and dreams that came unraveled.
Until suddenly awakened
on a road I one time traveled.
I see the way they look away
though I know that they don't know it.
I see that they think less of me
when I say that I am Poet.
So I cling to hope for them
and at night I softly pray.
That the day will never come
when they need the words I say.
Edwin C Hofert
All the doggies are looking eager, there's a breeze blowing up
Even the older ones are feeling perky, just like they are a pup
All snouts are at the door jambs they all know there is breeze
With the occasional one with dust up their nose outs a sneeze
While their owners are wrapping up and buttoning down coats
As the jiggling of the doggy leads gets all of the doggy’s votes
Then your head's down to miss the oncoming harrowing winds
Doggies love it, and all you see from them is their doggy grins
All that wet and wind must be doing the brain cells some good
Running around in puddles then coming home covered in mud
You're dreading that all over shake down that the doggies love
Then it's mud all over the hallway wallpaper to heavens above
It is time for that bath, or shower, it's now the order of the day
Then getting rosy in front of the fire, the contented doggies lay
Whilst despite protecting yourself from all those outdoor winds
You are even more covered by the natures outdoor unholy sins
You're wet all over from giving the dear mutt a shower, or bath
Looking all bedraggled, hubby, is looking at you stifling a laugh
Your clothes and towels are in the washing machine, all is done
The dog is happy now sleeping it has more than enjoyed its run
Hubby makes a hot cup of tea, then to run you a lovely hot bath
Totally in sympathy with you, just in case he catches your wrath
Both snuggled up in bed arguing who is doing the next dog walk
Next time the dog is eagerly sniffing the door jamb of the porch
A barefoot boy on an old dirt road
Kicking dust up as he went
His lips all puckered, whistling a tune
He was happy and content
He carried a bucket by the bail
Had a cane pole on his back
And under his arm, all wrapped up tight
Was a burlap gunny sack
“Where are you going with all that stuff?”
I asked as he skipped on by
“I’m headed down to the Jack-Knife Creek
To catch Crawdads for a pie”
The cabin was on a dirt road
we rode our bikes for miles it seemed
always knowing where to go
remember when Kevin got creamed?
Over the land filled with rocks
we'd kick the dust up in the air
wearing our shoes and socks
living without a care.
We would go to the lake each day
running to get there fast
all day lond we'd play
the time just seemed to last.
Across the lake you could see
all the oak surrounding the park
we'd always stay passed three
not leaving 'till it was dark.
The water was crystal clear
we swam all day long
sometimes we even saw deer
sat around and sang songs.
From the corner of our spot
where we'd jump unafraid,
the dock was sturdy and hot
Oh! the games that we played.
Running back and forth for hours
between the lake and the stream
sometimes there were showers
Doug would always make us scream.
The days it was colder
we'd pick berries bush by bush
our fingers got purple and older
Regan's bowl filled with mush.
The nights we'd spend together
with cinnamon toast and wishes
not caring about the weather
only about the Hershey Kisses.
I miss the times we sewed
pulling the threads too tight
the patience that you showed
to teach me how to do it right.
I thank the Lord each day
for leaving you here for us
the memories will forever stay
Thank you for your love.
Charming brown it's the smell of a cocoa,
the brown suit , the caramel perfume,
pouring of a caramel on a brown tea that the
brown shoes descending on brown path,
it is a charming brown.
brown leaves, brown dress,
down the path, up to the trees,
it is more of brown.
brown twigs, brown suit,
smells natural, scent of humility,
down the road,
down to the under-ground,
it is brown color.
brown natural leaves above the brown dress
below it is the 'sweet teeth',
brown leaves and trees just produces sort of taste.
the bouncing infra-red ,red-light on the red leaves,
that improves intelligent
on a major brown suit.
brown weeding gowns, brown nests,
here and up there,
blue sky, white clouds moving to the west
the brown dresses and the brown suits.
pitching down, plunging down, descending down,
going up, lifting up, rising up,
brown dust up in the air,
brown hill, brown shoes,
dancing on a brown path,
red leaves blew up,elaborated by wind
extending red on a major brown dress,
the major brown Princess, the woman in brown dress,
Steel blue sky
Sun glaring down
From a cloudless sky
Baking all things
Metal brands skin
Hot wind blows
Dust up in the air
Sweat rivers down
Thoughts of sweet wintertime abound.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Slowly take me and capture me with every touch and move
show me your every moves pull me closer
to every inch of your body shake out the rhyme in my hips
push it up to my lips rock me inside in out show off this
music of the movement in use give it the
beat in our hearts show it off much more
blow dust up in the air pop all rhyme all
around now i'am hip hop to your songs
I have you in my sight
Far behind those thorns
On a mountain so high
Between the devil's horns
Where a fake smile on my face
And heaven under my feet
Somehow seem out of place
For its you who causes my beat
Shall I rise and draw my sword
All crippled and face the beast
As I’m a pillar that carries my world
Shall I move and risk my seat
Let it fall to please myself
As I might forever perish?
Or let it dust up on a shelf
Obedient to the morals I cherish?
A fine morning to watch the birds
By the ocean side. My dog by my side.
Deep cool breeze
Setting ablaze my ribs
My jacket and the dog’s fur
All I needed and asked for
Perfect company and comfort
…a lonely life.
My surrounding,
Oblivion of me
And me too, void of all
Very deep in thought
Knowing not when,
I sipped from the coffee cup
Wincing in disagreement,
I jolted back to memory
By its bitter taste.
Hahahahahaha
What a way to discover.
But discovered I have.
A great deal of life is false and bitter
It’s bitter when you love
Yet, you be not loved
It’s false, thinking you are loved
But all the while, mugged
Why do you tell me
All is fair in love and war?
When I know what I saw?
The weak is the stepping stone
For the wicked
The honest a tool
In the hands of the fraud
But…
Woe to them who made you bear grudge
And…
Woe to you who got soiled in vengeance.
Nature is smart…so smart with it
For the sun must rise again
And time must heal your pain
Like the Americans will say
Every dog has its day
Dust up and take a walk
For your new lover
Might be waiting by the side walk
i am inspired by your spirit
i am impressed by your passion
i am in awe of your presence
i am influenced by your fashion
you make me look in the mirror
and shake the dust up off myself
you make me really realize
that within me is a divine gift of wealth
for this i wanna thank you
for i once thought it all odd
it is an amazing sometimes the unexpected ways
that one discovers the amazing power of God....
Trees bowing in humble adoration
Dust up the air........from the ground
Humans having a feeling so sweet
Mild is the air,will it rain today?
Thunder? no! lightening? no!save the breeze
squeezed umbrellas,caps dancing upwards
leaves gathering to have an emergency meeting
everyone shut your eyes, some sands are passing by
it will rain, will it rain? rain it will
rain, rain go away come again another day
little ones chanting down the next lane
thunder strikes, lightening follows
drops of rain, showers, oh its pouring almost immediately
to your tents all the living
heavens water tanks are open
Some things you don’t know ...
and you don’t really wanna
Certain information overload
can get tricky
Make you not trust your own eyes
Sometimes custom pants
might be a fancy dress in disguise
Better stay sober;
even still, it might be hard to tell
if that beau is a belle
Better keep your mind clear;
even so, you still might not know
if that belle is a beau
When it’s gender bender uncertain,
don’t go dirty dancing flirting
with the wrong intentions in mind
You could end up
in a compromising situation,
that may turn an ugly conversation
into brawling fisticuffs
Or worse, a cat fight dust-up
You didn’t know
that taking off clothes
wouldn’t be showing enough
You weren’t innocently aware
that giving a naked stare
would garner the wrong gender touch
Now you’re mentally messed up,
going carnally insane
The head doctor asks:
Do you know who’s in your house —
as you diddle around, is the lights upstairs on?
You shake your head from side to side,
and the skull doc darkly shrugs: Patient XY is too far gone
For him, the dating detour road straight up ahead turned ugly slick;
that pretty girl Pam, cuddling close, turns out she was born Patrick
Gender bender
can be a relationship ender
She got into a crash when she made the wrong pass caught on cam;
that pretty boy Patrick, snuggling close, turned out to be born Pam
Well, well ... who could tell
that beau was a belle!
Oh, oh ... who could know
that belle was a beau!
Gender fender bender warning:
Ladies and gents be careful!
Take those bends real slow ...
At the chromosomal stop sign,
always look both ways
before you go-go
© Francis Maugo
At the point when you remember me,
Kindly don't sob.
You attempted everything you could
To rescue my dieing soul
Dear you felt down and out when
Relatives proved unable
To bear the cost
Of my hospital bill
You were generally there for me
Close to my death bay
Nyakwara kindly don't sob
I lived a good life ,
I ran the nine decades race well
And won it ,I fought many battles
And here I am waiting patiently for the Prize
After my triumph
My dear though couldn't see you,I could feel your presence at my death bay
You were there for me till my last breath
Kindly dust up and walk up tall
For all is well,
I have rejoined your grandpa
Who left me several decades ago
Kindly don't weep for I am in safe hands
Have been received warmly
Into this new world
'Nyakwara'kindly take great consideration
Of the promises you made to me
Be the light to bring back the Maugo I used to
Cherish in the 50s
Kindly heed to your parents advice
Take good care of yourself
Weep no more
For I my soul is
In good place
Threw the tea to the bottom of the sea
Calling themselves The Sons of Liberty
History changing dust up
Over a tax thought unjust
Intolerant of slightest tyranny
Dust drops like silent thoughts, neglected
over the piano lid, shut quiet and still.
Some dust we keep as mementos
in a chaotic pile of keepsakes.
Some we wipe away on a rainy day,
with windows wide open to keep it from our nostrils.
We wipe away the fingerprints left by
the guilty one, the cleaner upper-er,
to leave no trace for retribution.
Neglect, retention, renewal, recollection,
detritus, waste, tidy-up and decay,
all converge when
we live our lives and gather dust,
and we dust up the gathering.