Bowe Poems | Examples

My Drunken Lover


I fell in love with a Drunken Poet
When with light My Grail He fills
Lyrical Creativity intercourse with pen and paper spill
With Rhymes and reasons salutations 
Filled so full, Colorful My imagination
Drunken poetry obliteration 
He drinks sooo much, his touch Intoxicating 
Slurry words with breath of sweet Rum
Penetrating and Pouring light until I succumb 
He woos with words and stirs Me up 
I have gotten addicted to his Liqueur syrup
Transporting my mind to Celestial Bliss
Overflowing with every Drunken Kiss
Drunk in Love, my heart Enshrined 
Top shelf Libation pours, He wants me to Shine
He slurred" let go baby, I'm yours, You're mine"
I got sooo drunk, couldn't hold My liquor 
Fondled My Pen, vomit on paper
He slurred, " Go on baby, it's best for your liver"
Now my  speech is liquored sweet ingredients to my potion
Drunken poetry creative recreation.


Shout out to Elliott Bowe>>>creator of drunken poetry.

Premium Member Anamnesis- Senryu 10

hints of days gone by
fly away “Space Oddity” 
Bowe sings my world 

09/01/2019

Premium Member The Old Lady and the Tree

Slow, slow
Stop, stop
Here, here
The tree
She hobbled between 
The Tussock grass
Toward the tree’s
The biggest, tallest
She made for
She stopped half way
To look
Look up
At this tree
Tall and brown
Thick with Bowe
The oldest of these tree’s
She hobbled on to this tree
Dropping her cane
At its base
Placing her hands on this tree
In communion
Connection
To that
One cannot see
This tree
The old lady
She made her way round its base
Keeping one hand on the tree
Moving off to look around
To what was on the ground
No one knows how old she is
This tree older still
Creases of time
Play out on both faces of this
Old lady
The tree
She came into this world
Under this tree
At a time
No one remembers
But she remembers
The time and this tree
Personal Dreaming and this tree
Upon a regular time
She’d visit this tree
But now
Not so much
As no one has time for this
Old lady
And her tree


Limitation

Needs have a limit.
                                                    Wants have none.











Written by: Elliott Bowe

The Poets Job

The poets job 
                                                      

                                                   is to magnify

                                             to unveil the veiled
 
                                         describe the indescribable
                                                           and

                             Say what every one else is afraid to say...
                         I guess the liquor makes that a little bit easier ...






Written BY: Elliott Bowe

Cancer Cant Take Soul

Your bald raw beauty.
On my way to the barber.
To be as stunning.

Cancer took your breast away.
Yet your heart remains so sweet.







Written By: Elliott Bowe THe DrUnKeN POeT

Contest Name : Cantankacerous
Sponsor : Joann Grisetti


The Perfect Poem

As unfocused and natural as breathing 
As unrestricted as dreaming
Creativity derives from formless –
From liberty

Don’t think
Write now
Correct later
This is poetry in its most perfect form
Just like when you’re taking a test and your first thought is most likely correct 

It’s okay to jump from one thought to the next 

As long as you have a trail to look back on 
You can recall information

Don’t abandon your first thoughts of originality! 
Flow and flow with your original thoughts filled with your unique personality 

Be free 
Be you and you will be surprised at all who will be inspired by you 

Don’t muffle your emotion 
Don’t muffle your first original thought 
Be free 
Be you and you’ll be amazed at the hues that leak on paper from you




A collaboration between Elliott Bowe THe DrUnKeN POeT & Brittany MAD POet Caldwell

Life and Death

The moment you understand death,
                                          is the moment you understand life.










Written By: Elliott Bowe

Togetherness

We are each a letter in this alphabet soup,
                                        forming words harmoniously.

















Written By: Elliott Bowe
I didn't realize the potency of my words
 untill some one pointed it out...Thank you..

Struggle For Beauty and Pleasure

Though
                                                         the stem
                                                         is thorny 
                                                       as the road
                                                        at the end
                                                        beauteous
                                                            rose
                                                           petals
                                                            hold 
                                                            their 
                                                            head 
                                                            high
                                                             up 
                                                             up 
                                                             up
 
                                                             
Written by:Elliott Bowe

Flatulence

Movie theater crowded. 
                                                   Abdomen bubbles,
                                               a scent delivers troubles,
                                      the scent strikes with brass knuckles
                                           the man who dealt it chuckles.
                               People pinch their noses and squints their eyes.
                            the man who dealt it continued to eat his cheese fries,
                         someone yells, were in the move theater cant you realize!









By: Elliott Bowe
POOPING & FARTS contest
Sponsor:Destroyer ~ Poet

Sand Castle

Gentle sonic of piano and violin guides our
dance connected eyes in trance in stance
of love the lord smiles above connecting
our love free the doves of heaven concealing
the moment with peace my soul flares with
each step we step side to side spin and glide
tingle,melt, form and sculpt brightness in soul
and mind vanishing in rays of romance appearing
on the bay of happiness playing in the sands of
time,giggling as the tides collide before our eyes
sand castles formed in eternal connection king and
queen on sand in castle mending tender love the
castle never falls,it never fades painted in golden 
hues,when the tides come to wash it away in our
hearts it will for ever stay,every gain bonding our 
sand castle everlasting , darling bring your best 
bucket bring your best scoop we will build a city
of sand on beach as I beseech your wetness and
distract your sand castle in the making  the dawn
sets as we wet the sand we have made our sand 
castle of love.


By: Elliott Bowe

Wobbling To Mount Everest

Grumbling,rumbling and Wobbling my pen moves on the white paper,staggering as it strides onthe line Gush!it belches as horrible sound comes out from its tip,the lines are blur and twinkle stars appear.I am drunk No!not me its my pen,different thoughts flow into the mind beclouded by mundane things repelled by celestial beings Why!why am I here grumbling;I need to write to my glover or lover to join me in this journey to the peak of mount Everest where I`m at the top of my write,did I say write,Oh no!right yes!right now,Think of singing lovely vibes to your sweet g~~lover on the top of the tower with all your power for her to pick a drawer,Yes a drawer Stop interrupting pen...Am I confusing you no! not me it`s my drunken pen Not drunk just being funky eventhough I`m not pinky,My pen sip~sip more brandy so as to be more randy and not candyd.....avalanche of words pouring like tsunami hurricane and tornado Enough! enough I need to be free from this possessive pen spirit~of  al~~co~~hol~~Blank~~blank~~blank...Black out~~back down...P~O~a~r~~inks spreading all over my paper Oh no!stench,stench of vomits~What a quagmire


CONTEST:"Drink drunken pen drink!!!" sponsored by Elliott Bowe

The End Part One

A mortal breath expires drifting to where? 
Taken into the mystery of, invisible open air. 
To where could that breath have gone?Instantaneously
snatched, unaware. left behind ,bitter tears of sorrow.
In every teardrop a question.While the pastor makes 
a healing suggestion.

Birth certificates becomes memorabilia. 
Grave stones are visited. The beginning sweet, the end a 
bitter cup, No one knows when there time is up.
Many are gone,truly gone, flying to another world,
 to be born, again.A life adorned,a loss,a friend 
or family member. 

A departure we will always remember. 
Why now? why then? how did it end so fast?
The only sure answer is death at last. 
Take my hand, take my kiss, take my beating
heart. Knowing for sure this will all be taken apart. 
Taken from the start connected to the send. 

Take all the I lend my friend, knowing soon
we shall face the end .Gone to the great beyond 
Where other souls have passed on ,up in smoke.
Waxed in oblivion, gone to a heavenly reward or
not. Don’t fuss and don’t fight for one day or night
My eyes will follow that bright light surround by white. 


Written by: Elliott Bowe
To be continued by Vienna Bombardieri....

Me and Vie

A collaboration by me an Vie,
                                                   soon you'll see.





Coming soon: (THE END)a collaboration by Elliott Bowe & Vienna Bombardieri

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