Dowsed Poems | Examples

Fading Loudly

I dye my hair to stand out from the crowd
To not fade In the background
My skin littered with ink so eyes don’t stray away something to draw your attention
Something that will burn onto your memory
But instead I feel like my hair is grey and brown to camouflage to the full world around me
My skin is drawn with invisible ink scratch that I am dowsed in it
No matter what I’ll wear
No matter how bright my hair is
It doesn’t matter how loud or how quite I am
I vanish within the background

That's Not Safe

Promises not kept are like brutal blows, 
ruthless ripping words are the harsh slashes.
They strike unaware where latent hope grows,
cleave through the ruptured heart as it crashes.

The mind becomes angry fire of the wild, 
uncontrolled, it simmers the blood of pride,  
flares to burn the gentle patience defiled. 
Not dowsed, it singes sound senses defied.

The smoke billows up opaque and intense,
conscience trips losing its stability.
Vile breath is charged with ashes of hate dense,
face of restraint they destroy instantly.

Anger then turns to perilous terrain. 
That’s not safe, so get away from it sane.

Oh, Why Must I Wear This Uncomfortable Mask

Oh, why must I wear this uncomfortable mask,
when entering stores, or working at my desk?
Don't listen to erratic idiots or irrational fools:
think about your health, do the right thing always;
if death dealt with our reality so frightening and changeless:
whom do you think would win this race of treacherousness? 

Death is not a benefactor of mercy kindling life with spoils,
it steals all we possess, all we hide leaving anguishing tears;
so take down all the white flags for an armistice not allowed,
who committed heinous acts will surrender to a myth so dowsed...   
where other graves have been covered with damp and black dirt,
watch helpless mothers weep to seek a pity that diminishes all hurt! 

Oh, why must I wear this uncomfortable mask
to please politicians who justify their mandate?
Let's not bump into the rageful mouths that reject this hard task,
they may lynch us, or even hurt us if police aren't watching us;
this is a dilemma for many not wearing it to claim all freedoms:
is there any freedom left, not obeying the Law that keeps us safe?
 






,

Weak Spots Xx

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!

Teardrops

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

Our Boulder

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.

Dowsed

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

Inglenook

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

Where Frozen Embers Still Burn - Part 1

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.

Lady Noon

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

Sounds To Sleep By

~ 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

Memories

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.

Her Letters To God

her letters to “god”

though she never received a
reply, she always wrote him,
in her little diary & planted it
neath’ her mattress when she
was a teenager (she had an 
image in her head…her
beautiful caucasian jesus 
with his pretty blue eyes &
his hippie beard), now, even
though her friends slowly
stopped believing in the fiction,
she quietly kept her faith
throughout the years, despite
the further desperation which
her life began to amass,
jotting down
jotting down
jotting down,
all her prayers, all her needs,
all her hopes, all her dreams,
as if she was composing a
to-do-list for her personal
deity,
until one day her 
home was broke into &
the diary went up in flames,
burning to the ground with
the rest of the place,
after the thieves robbed it
blind & dowsed it
in kerosene.

White Sails, Dark Souls

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

The Psychiatrist

"Tell me your ten happiest moments,
from birth through all your years."
ensconced he sat behind his desk,
stroking his Freudian beard.

"Take your time, my dear, and think,
just tell me when you're done."
I swear, for the life of me,
I couldn't think of one.

That Christmas when I was four
and all my hopes were dowsed,
I had asked for a train set,
but got a cheap doll house.

My mind shuffles through the years,
like a worn out deck of cards,
I remember all my beloved pets
that I buried in the yard.

I remembered unseen entities,
always lurking in the gloom,
and the poltergeist who threw things
sometimes clear across the room.

I remembered almost dying
when I was only five,
the scars on the outside
and the deeper ones inside.

Oh, boy, I'm on a roll now,
as the inner visions flood,
of splattered brains and bullets,
parental blood instead of love.

"Good God, this is a waste of time,
and frankly, it's quite painful,"
with steepled hands the Freudian doc
stared blankly at the table.


©Danielle White

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