Iowa Poems - Poems about Iowa

wooed by a two ton iowa steer

the two- ton Iowa steer gave me a ***** leer
over hear, dear, come be my ever-loving peer.
Smile sheer, he wore rings in his nose and right ear.
I resolved not to go near until I had consumed my beer.
Nothing to fear bellowed the steer. Over hear dear, over here!

The Republican Blues

She poo-pooed her constituent quickly 
with, “Well, we all are going to die”
like a queen talking down to the peasants
from her castle way up in the sky

She expressed no concern for the voter
or her plight should she lose Medicaid
with an arrogant wave she dismissed her
and revealed that they all had been played

So the people who

For Love of Iowa

Snow, snow, drifting down on little towns and farms,
Snow, snow glistens on the oaks’ and maples’ arms.

River, river from the north, with thaw of ice it flows,
Mighty Mississippi, past my little hometown goes.

Blooms, blooms, pretty blooms, and lilacs scent the air.
Blooms, blooms paint the land beneath a rainbow fair.

Hills, hills, soft and rolling, low and

You cannot take the country out of a corn fed Iowa Girl

You cannot take the country out of a corn-fed Iowa girl
You cannot pull the straw out of her teeth
You cannot take the “yahs” and replace them with “yeses”.
You can try to pull her off the tractor, but she will not come easy.
You can try to get her to stop eating fresh sweet corn
But I would

Iowa City

(A bit of fun for Thomas W. Case - I think he lives in Iowa)

Hawkeye pride burns bright in Iowa City,
the place where Tennessee Williams learned to curse.

Iowa City hosts the 4th of July, Iowa speedway race, unique perhaps
because the cars have to stay behind a tractor for the first 199 laps.

How polite are the

WINTER IN AN IOWA CORNFIELD

WINTER IN AN IOWA CORNFIELD

Why start nattering about lucky tracks
Neath a tarnished night of a waning storm?
Haystacks in a disciplined platoon wait
With hooded coats, caves of hibernation,
Standing in formation with watchfulness.
Six columns and six rows of perfection
Thirty-six baled soldiers in transition
Marching forward in a biting snow storm,
Blindly floundering in a final surge.
A good resistance fighter

Thoughts on Iowa and My Childhood City

“And I remember Muscatine -still more pleasantly  - for its summer sunset. I have never seen any on either side of the ocean that equaled them.”  Samuel Clemens in his younger years when he worked for Muscatine Journal and before he took the pen name, Mark Twain

A sentimental feeling comes over me when

weird tourists from Iowa

Weird tourists from Iowa took readily to New York City
Taking photos of the sights, thinking they were witty.
Aren’t they cows? Someone asked on Fifth Avenue.
One is, the other is a bull, said his cousin, Boo.

The cow and the bull turned and one gave a loud moo.
Pretty soon they were chasing a frightened Boo.
That’s why I

Iowa Girls Basketball Is Serious

In the state of Iowa girls basketball is the biggest sport.
Bigger than golf, football, baseball or any other that you’d sort.
We are basketball players before we settle down, an Amazon wife said.
And sometimes a player afterwards, said her son, Leland Lee Ted.

His mama scoffs at his reply, she beats him at horse after school.
Never letting

Gardening In Iowa

I grew up in a small rural Iowa town
my parents were spawn of farmers
we had “farms” out in the country
we did not live on them but we planted them

our summers were spent hoeing, weeding, raking.
a child I teach stopped me. “There is a hoe in this story?”
Loud laughter. They know about hoes apparently.
I have to

We Never Had To Label Corn

We used to label our Iowa garden at the end of the rows with seed packets.
We would plant the row first, sprinkiing the teensy seeds and covering them.
Then we would nail the seed packet to the stake at the end of the row.
Like little soldiers we saw peas packets, carrot packets, radish packets.
Lettuice packets, potato

A Cold Morning In Iowa

It is a cold morning in Iowa 
Not bitter like January knife wind days
But cool enough for a jacket
I wish I had brought one out here

Silence is everywhere
Which makes the day seem colder
I think of my red sweater and my pink jacket
But then the hens begin to cluck

My cold is nothing compared to their hunger
They

Interstate 80 Des Moines Iowa January of 1981

Interstate 80 Des Moines Iowa January of 1981
I was driving a new red Mustang with T-tops
I felt sizzling hot

Everyone ahead of me was inching along
What is wrong with all these OLD people?
I raced around them

I had never heard of black ice
And now I was its victim.
My Mustang flew off Interstate 80

I was upside down, ready

Iowa Family Reunion

Anyone not in a pick-up truck at least better have a hound.
If you don’t have a hound, you’d better be carrying a shotgun.
It is ho-down hills days, and we are meeting for our annual barbeque.
Most of the trucks have been out mudding; they are caked.
We award the Mudding King his corndog sandwich with baked beans.
Corn

Incident In An Iowa Cornfield

Before it is posted on Facebook and everyone knows
I peed in an Iowa cornfield at the beginning of some rows.

It was an absolute necessity under direst of circumstance
My brother took the picture showing my unique little dance.

And, no, I don’t make a habit of that sort of unseemly activity
But when “you gotta go, you gotta

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