Best Fountain Poems
Chocolate Fountain Abuse- for the lover
How easily I forget I'm allergic to chocolate
I want to dip the exquisite kosher in a Spanish brandy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate
At a store window; a dried up chocolate fantasy goblet
A taste of spoiled milk, nothing dandy with this candy
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate
Snickers Bar, melting under the spotlight for-profit
Not edible, waging unassertive words like a pansy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate
Chocolate pop, a candy bar coming out of the closet
There was not much bandy, about this candy
It's easy to forgot I'm allergic to chocolate
Stubby nuts, stomachache, bucket of vomit
Butterflies, flipping when I hear a faucet of cocoa candy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate
Enrobed with small nuts, it dwells under the pocket
Caramel and peanuts American walnut vigilante
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate
~?~
7/10/14
I want to eat Pizza
While wishing on a star
To taste the taste of happy
By being where you are
We’ll choose to be silly
Not afraid of mistakes
Skinny dip at midnight
and skip pebbles on lakes
Why not dance together
While howling at the moon
Or become little children
and watch a cartoon
A world infused with laughter
can change how we think
From this fountain of youth
We’ll both gladly drink
For nothing could be better
Than sharing it with you
Because getting into mischief
Is a blast if there are two!
The Fountain
Where have you been my love
Did the hours slip from the pools of your thoughts
To go wandering heights in vacant skies
Did they capture their images on high
As you floated through the siphoned mist of your dreams
I stood on the golden rim
Where comes this shimmer quiet in your eyes
Did the blessed heavens kiss away your sadness
Flushed you seem with a new coy brilliance
Coquette by your demeanour disregards my question
I drank from a sacred stream
This sleeping softness sensual pressed to warmth
Pervades the corners of your mouth; teasing brigands
Have those loose moments retaliated their freedom
And gathered the snippets of lust once again into ragged ball of passion
I lay naked in the dust
The tip of your finger is playing upon a pharyngeal string; my love
Purring cat you are stretched bare skinned on a Persian rug
Your playful whispers intone in those exquisite curves
Flexing white porcelain opening of slow swan wings
And I held the source spring of my heart
Impatient now edges the tangled slides of your auburn curls
This gesture turns your shoulder; from behind lowered lashes you look
A predator’s toy in scratching claws lays its throat willingly bare
Ready to be devoured by a single word; of love
I stepped from the golden rim
Your palms carry the visions you have seen entranced
Coursing through your touch with eclectic imagery
There is a moment of succumb, of slavery, in you, my love
Relinquishing all but dignity, proud, honest, capitulation and senses devastation
I drink from the eternal fountain
There is a fountain in our city square
It gives the place a little added flair
What makes it special is it's magic powers
It's good at changing minutes into hours
It also gives the best rate of exchange
There you can buy a wish for pocket change
By day, the children buy their fairy tales
By night, it puts the wind in dreamers' sails
It has the power to pull tourists in
I've seen it change a frown into a grin
Another power is relieving stress
By leaving goose bumps with it's cool caress
Yet even knowing wishes can't be bought
Folks toss their coins without a second thought
A penny for a wish, it just sounds fair
Perhaps they feel the magic in the air.
by Daniel Turner
A Fountain for Carmela....
In the village of Santa Maria, high in the mountains lived a little girl named Carmela. It has
always been the tradition of the women to carry water from the well no matter how far and bring
it home. This was done sometimes twice a day.
It was another beautiful morning as the Sun began to rise. Outside the front door, brightly
colored Parrots were singing sweet songs as Carmela’s mother, Esperanza, prepared the
morning meal of tortilla’s, black beans and sweet coffee. Carmela so enjoyed sitting next to her
mother by the cooking fire. This was her time, alone with her mother, learning how to tend the
fire and grind the maze that she loved the most.
As her Mother dipped her ladle into the water jug, it was plain to see that it was almost empty.
Carmela looked into the jug and asked….
"Mama, can I carry the water today?" Little Carmela asked, she was so happy to be old enough
to do such a thing. Her mother had taught her how to balance the jug on top of her head just
right, so as not to spill even drop on their many trips to the well. But the well was half a day’s
walk down the mountain and back and she had never gone all by herself. It was a hard task for
sure but her familia needed water for cooking and cleaning.
There've been moments when 'twas courage I needed
like the time I climbed to the crest of a mountain
to overcome my fear of heights. It was superseded
with bravery I found in myself to give me credibility
instead of wishing by throwing a coin in the fountain.
Quarters, nickels, pennies wasted, tossed in futility.
To Rome's Trevi they flock as if that fountain was magic.
Closing their eyes in hopes that wishes will come true,
but crushed when their dreams were lost... how tragic.
Coins beneath the water's surface, glinting in the sun...
Coinage collected for the poor that fountains accrue.
It's tradition to share the moment with a loved one.
Over my shoulder, I've thrown coins into waters of a fount,
but not naive enough to think my wishes would find fruition.
Perhaps we've all lost more coins than any of us can count,
but serves as the perfect whimsical setting for picture taking.
Not a means for making dreams come true, nor an ambition,
but tossing a coin in a fountain is a fantastical undertaking.
A treasure of water surrounded by the mountains,
Is where my jolly grandpa resides,
Sea green water embellishes enchanting fountains,
And, the ducks swim around water slides.
The surreal vision of the majestic mountain lake,
From my grandpa’s wooden home,
How I wish time would apply a brake,
And, I receive the freedom to roam.
A horrific reality perturbs my dream,
As I walk closer to the lake,
Heaps of garbage block the main stream,
Putting the water quality at stake.
Engines of motor boats roar with might,
Tourists queue up, for an adventurous ride,
For fun, we sacrificed the right,
Look, our lake has dried and the ducks have died.
Our beautiful lake has stopped shedding tears,
Now that her children are deaf and blind,
Our ancestors preserved it for endless years,
Shamefully, we left our duties far behind.
The fishes in the lake stare at me,
With the hope that their ecosystem is secure,
A promise that I will make them free,
And, their home clean and pure
The earth beneath is slowly engulfing our lake,
Punishing us for our brutal and mindless actions,
When will we learn from our unforgivable mistakes?
Do we wait for nature’s disastrous reactions?
It's a spring eternal,
In the mind of man.
With a perpetual flow,
As if God's master plan.
At times, the waterway,
Gets interrupted and clogged.
Where pressures can build,
Though it's often camouflaged.
Just like busy, little beavers,
Will pack mud and debris.
So too does mankind, though
It's seldom a guarantee.
Yet no matter the obstruction,
Water eventually finds its way.
Though when it bursts, it can flood
Through . . . and ruin a liar's day.
Well, when I started getting older
I decided to set out on a quest
I was gonna find that Fountain of Youth
Or, at least, I'd try my best
I stumbled across this forgotten village
Where only young people live
That's when I knew I'd found it
I was almost positive
I saw this beautiful stone fountain
Standing in the middle of the square
My journey was finally over
As I slowly walked over there
They had a tarnished silver dipper
That was hanging on a nail
Beside it was a old wooden bucket
And then, a golden pail
As I was reaching for the dipper
This little boy appeared
He said, "Careful you choose correctly"
And he suddenly disappeared
Now, I didn't know which one to choose
The wooden bucket or pail of gold
So I decided to drink a little of both
At least, I wouldn't grow old
And then a couple of hours later
I noticed, I wasn't looking too young
Then that little boy came back and said,
"Do you know what you have done?"
I answered, "Yes I do" before I thought
Though I really wanted to lie
I just couldn't make mysef do it
No matter how hard I'd try
"You have cheated," the little boy said
"Now you'll never find your youth
For by tasting both you've deceived yourself
And it became the Fountain of Truth?
So, needless to say, I really messed up
And I'm cursed for the rest of my life
Cause it doesn't matter how hard I try
I can never tell a lie to my wife
They'll be no more late night poker games
Or a night on the town with the guys
I've changed my name to honest Abe
For I can't tell no more lies
Now, the reason I wrote this story
Is, well, I really can't tell you why
I was gonna make a reason up
But, remember? I just can't tell a lie
A fountain of poems is rapidly flowing out the top of my head
Some of them are shaped like stars
Others are diamonds
There is Dracula holding a bunny!
Some of these poems are in color, others are black and white.
Polka Dotted!
I pick up a pen.
I can always use a polka dotted poem.
One of them slides under my nose.
Old Spice! Daddy!
I think of the Chevy he ordered with bucket seats!
Making us angry; who orders buckets for seats?
Eager poems are rushing down my shoulders, down my back
Puddling onto my dirty kitchen floor.
When was the last time Joe swept this place?
One is shaped like Adonis. I follow him out the door.
and the first flower of May
blooms in fervescent splendour
a butterfly's wing flutters above
a palette of rainbows await her
to dip in a brush,to paint
the fragrant garden of love.
Her painting as abstract as ever
emotions in pink mixed with blue
a journey on sails never ending
of sunsets and sunrise anew.
Sandcastles await behind curtains
of each misty night and morn's drippling dew
little spades fill big buckets with laughter
feet splash in fountains of hue.
Charma
I have walked about as far
as I can go before a weariness
threatens to withdraw the pleasure
of the evening light and the easy
mood of the park. The fountain
that had spurted and splashed
all day has withdrawn back
into its nightlong still
and caught a rising moon
in its mirrored skirt.
I sit and close my eyes
and feel the world withdrawing
into somewhere else
as I let go each sound
into a growing quiet.
It's becoming harder to hold
myself here rather than
to float off where
the sounds go and all things
not anchored to a self
find a place in the night.
It would be good to go there
and see each atom
of who I am settle
a stillness stretched across
time and space and there,
become part of what
mirrors light
even if it's for no more
than the length
of an earthly night.
To linger in the fountain of your heart
Immersed in mist of longing for your love
A fragile yet commanding work of art
You grant the wish that I could but dream of
To live forever in our graceful dance
Communion of our souls, a spindrift rush
I’m drenched with every image of romance
Just as we taste the glow of morning blush
A fantasy of passion are our days
Our nights as torrid as immortal sun
My mind can barely comprehend the ways
Our lives will, now and ever, be as one
So lest I should release this raptured sweep
Oh wake me not now from my wistful sleep
Well just how far back do you want me to go?
And how much "crazy" do you need to know?
hmmmmmmmmmmm
Looking back I recall, scared in my shoes
My innocent prank made FRONT PAGE NEWS!
New Orleans Fountain I shall never forget
When I poured a box of Tide in it!
It's smaller than a pond, bigger than a pool
Knew it would "bubble" look real KQQL
As the cars drove down Lakeshore Drive
The windshields were filled up to their eyes
with bursting bubbles in windows rolled down
They covered the Lakefront blew all over town!
I suppose that's the most famous thing I have done!
To the Mardi Gras Fountain from which I did run.
Paper said, "cost millions", much more than I had
But I'm Proud to say ......I invented this fad!
PS- don't tell. . . . .
There are people who stay young plus
Could be a secret they keep from the rest of us
Drinking from fountains of youth, thus
Perhaps it's a way of looking at things
Or a manner of what thinking brings
The fountain of eternal youth
Searching for the sip of magic water in truth