Jowls Poems | Examples

Alone in a Crowd

for braver hearts that dreamt of me
accept my dearest sympathy
taken in a silent rapture
and not wont to admit capture
by my mouth would raise a scandal
but flamed jowls betray my candle
each face, yours alone in a crowd,
and yet your kiss shall make me proud

Too Old To Be A Narci!

When beauty’s gone bye bye and slack flesh becks
            Jowls, crow’s feet, graveled voice and turkey necks             
Too old to be a narcissist
what’s left is a pacifist
*Tender genteel haters do not make good peaceniks!

OLD FRUIT

You are getting on, old fruit
Too obese to wear your new suit
Your face resembles a wrinkled prune
Old age is showing on you too soon,

What has happened to your lustrous hair
Your scalp is shiny and noticeably bare
Your jowls are hanging lower than your chin
My word, I cannot believe what a state you're in

Shoulders that were broad and strong
They are now all hunched and look all wrong.
Your knees are knobbly and a little bent,
The left leg forgot where the right one went.

I can not understand you when you talk,
Your brain, not your legs, has gone for a walk
Your eyes look blank, staring into space
You have lost touch with the human race.

We lost touch over the years,
After sharing much laughter and some tears
I have just seen you interviewed on TV
Old fruit, it was a shock to me,

To see you sitting in a chair,
With all the hoi polloi and fanfare there
Smiling happily from ear to ear
Holding up a glass of cheer

With the TV presenters and your guests
Wishing you the very best
And the audience stood up to say
Many happy returns of your 110th BIRTHDAY!

Deprived Of Your Love - POTD

I can’t rid of the bags under my eyes
The crowfeet despise, all were lies,
Conjured was an illusion of you
Throughout my groping confusion
evasive, flimsy
A-m-o-r-p-h-i-c, innuendos 
I was subjected to your derision 
dissing me relentlessly
deriding my appearance,
disparaging my intellect
as I stumbled and fell into the abyss 
Mocking doesn’t suit my countenance
My lips desert dry, thirsty, parched
An amazon no longer beats its drum
My buoyant nature now laden with coarsened shroud 
Leaving a cardboard moon deprived of its shine
Stars like candles blown out one by one
No use waiting for the rising Sun
The end of world does come,
stopped spinning neath heavy ebon clouds
Expectations unreal
All zeal gone, listless is my spirit
along with my illumination
Now you see me
unmasked in raw anguish
I      d
     r
     o
        o
            p 
jowls hang from endless
torment endured
like the drenched and cold, wounded hawk
taken flight, eagle-eyed, a warrioress
more determined and bold, traveling on
with unlimited range
and self-esteemed 
This bird, 
 you 
c
  a
   n
  n
o
t  c h a n g e

Things I Can't Stand

Serpents, scorpions and owls
are things I can’t endure.
The contents of a bovine’s bowels,
albeit as manure,

or monks in over-shady cowls,
their faces kept obscure,
the sex-life of the larger fowls,
for me hold no allure.

Threatened badgers’ hostile growls,
an overflowing sewer,
others’ stains on bathroom towels –
repugnant, these, for sure.

A dying pig’s pathetic howls
(at least that’s one pig fewer):
Walter Matthau’s drooping jowls –
for these, there is no cure.

Margaret Thatcher’s tortured vowels
are dickish, not demure:
and Ian Paisleys, Enoch Powells
are ignominy, pure.

Obnoxious Boor at Family Reunion

He was obnoxious almost to the point of repulsive
Constant banter escaped his always yapping jowls
He gave you no space or peace, monopolizing all conversation
Many stopped attending family reunions due to this brazen boor

Where The Children Go To Play

Where the children go to play
   Is where the summer grass endures
And sunbeams - like a cascade -
   Pour down upon their bronze shoulders.

This - the children have learned well:
   Butterflies don't really flutter -
Instead - they dance a sky waltz
   To the cicadas' fond clamor.

Every breeze is a giant's sigh
   That brushes their roseate jowls;
Every cloud - some foam in the sky
   Behind which angels may be found.

What they know - they won't divulge
   But they know what each new day brings.
Pity them - some drab adults
   Who are ignorant of such things!

Reluctant To Age

This can't be my age! 
I am still young at heart
The life of a party 
Though hitting the bed by ten
Gained a few kilos of weight
But can fit into my youthful jeans
Grew sluggish and shorter in height
Although ready for a morning jog
Have to wear glasses now
As the print size has become smaller
A few grays in my hair don't tell my age 
Merely a fashion statement 
That adds a touch of elegance to my carriage
My knees hurt from the cold not stiffness
The reflection in the mirror shows what I'm not 
An elderly haggard lady 
With baggy wrinkled eyes and sagging jowls
As my passions still drive me forward
And I am still living my dream 
For age is just a number 
It's only the spirit that counts.

Smiling Faces

There is no place
Like a smiling face
It sets the pace 
It makes the case
For a happy heart

It’s a cinnamon tart
All spicy and smart

No frowns allowed
Said the sign on the door
Tis not a place for disgruntled souls
All we sell is happy inside 

There is nothing to hide
Your face much prettier
When graced with a smile 
Your life more buoyant 
Times more enjoyed

Yours to unstitch
Come comrades, come
Lift up those jowls 
With a mighty howl
Let the world delight
In the jewels on your face
For this is the place
To enjoy the art
And relish the poetry
Of those smiling faces
Standing in front of you

HIDE AND SHRIEK

A whispered shhh  hung in the air
Tall grass rustled nearby
A slight sniffy, snorty snout sound
Preceded the crinkly crunch of dry grass
Sweat slithered across my brow
A large head appeared
Violently shaking
Hanging jowls jousting
Saliva arcing aimlessly
A growl ruffling the air
We ran
Screams scurrying ahead
Saliva spewing demon behind
Fear fueled our flight
Her hand thinly slipping from mine
She fell
The demon approached
We heard her
Breathlessly shriek

“DAD
          ….CALL THE DOG”

Equals

In the woods with naught around,
I spot a dog, a grand old hound.
He spots me back and starts the hunt
Dare I approach him from the front?
I see the teeth and jowls loose,
There I am the waiting goose.

Yards are closing one by one,
Underneath the noonday sun.
Approaching quickly with lightning speed,
I stand my ground with frightening need.

He howls at my steadfast stance.
A knight here jousting, without a lance.
I howl right back and start my charge,
Arms are flailing, feigning large.
The pup takes note and slows its stride.

Perhaps a fear instilled inside?
Can this beast be scared of me?
Unknown is my fear of he?
We both, now walking, see it plain.
Man and dog will both remain.

Stuffed

Stuffed heads on imposing walls
beady glass eyes, glare.
The house is stuffed with horns,
tusks, fangs, and jowls.
Many a taxidermic glower,
gazes down,
with a moth-farmed visage.

Slaughtered beast
hang heavily from high mounts.
Teddy Roosevelt’s elephant gun
leans against a hollow elephant foot.
On gaslit nights
light gleams upon eyeless tigers.

He ‘bagged’ them all - a manly trait,
(historical context is everything),
truly, great men often display,
their overstuffed ego’s.

Later, Teddy Bears make amends,
as best they can.
Often, It is said,
that these wood-paneled veneers’
echo yet, with the lion's roar,
the panthers rage,
and the rhino's blind charge –

their spirits lunging once more,
toward their now, out-of-date
fate.

Carnage

       Crimson streams down
Salvant fluid at the jowls,
D r a g o n fruit k i t t y

Viking Dog

My jowls are large
They make me look glum
I am not though
Said Viking Dog Hum

Where did you get your helmet?
Asked an inquisitive cat
I was born with it on
What do you think of that?

A Brief Shaggy Dog Story that actually Ends

   A shaggy dog espied a graceful cat
     She arched her back, he fell flat
   on his jowls, she pivoted - nose up
     His paws akimbo, Shaggy arfed
         Wait, dear cat, I can explain that  

   But Graceful didn't miss a stride
     After all, she had her pride
   Who needs a mangy mutt who falls
     she thought, a dame like me must be bought

   Now Shaggy may be clumsy, but he's not deaf
     He heard Graceful mewing under her breath
   She loves me sure, Shaggy felt
     His tender heart, her icy exterior would melt

   So Shaggy scrambled after her, closing in fast
     When he drew close, she turned around at last
   It was then that he saw Graceful's face up close
     "Adios," he cried
                       ~ Her whiskers were caespitose

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