Long Bowe Poems

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The Genius Poem For You Einstein What Do You Think Einstein

Their is a God.In flesh we will not see his face.However we will see pieces of him in mother natures face. Natures aqua I indulge in, purity of his being and grace .I take a gander at shallow but deep water, and I nearly catch a glimpse of his face. A image we can not trace, looking into water searching for oddities timidly twinkling behind image of self, in mirror of water. Obfuscated by rays of sun complicating images reflected into water and image of  water reflected in soul.None can be clearly perceived,that is mystery,that is the hidden God in all, you and me flower and tree, all covered by hazy mist to guard and separate ,what is and what is not to be know.For reasoning beyond comprehensions and perception.The hands of leaves graciously applaud and sings for a kingdom unknown or shown.A land that is inconceivable beyond feeble flesh and bone perhaps a place where every humans faith may or may not be etched in stone,but for certain we don't walk alone. The hands of leaves sings his song with grandiosity. Singing in code alongside hymns of enchanting species on earth. Songs we are told, but never told to be understood for our own good.If other wise we would all be doomed,for instance God blessed us with geniuses and we make weapons of mass destruction. Why should he unveil more mysteries and knowledge? To cause more malice and destruction? Animals and nature, chant songs of spiritual secrets, worldly an beyond secrets.This knowledge the forbidden fruit, only to suit the beings of another realm but still connecting us to it in ways the flesh can bear.If trees,birds and all of nature could talk human languages, mysteries would be no more. What happens when a bright light flashes in front your eyes? Don't you briefly lose sight? what happens when a loud horn blows in your ear doesn't it ring? The same concepts and effects applys with the high volumes and inconceivable power of our God and mysteries that follow. Imagine the the sounds, the sight and the feeling of the life beyond do you think the flesh can bear or withstand such insurmountable grandeur.The wind so much like God its never seen.The wind so much like God its effects are seen, but still remains invisible.The wind carry's breath death things of all volumes and that which feeble flesh cant perceive,I BELIEVE THE WIND IS GOD.....   WHAT DO YOU THINK EINSTEIN..... 


BY: Elliott Bowe


I Am Part 2

I am the wind 
beneath the 
sparrows wings 
as it heavenly sings.
I am the single rose 
sitting in a barren land.
I am the the lions voice,
and the partridge voice as they 
rejoice. 

I am the beam of light 
penetrating the vastness
of the worlds darkness.

The secret power is 
no secret,the secret 
power is me.

I am the secret power revealed
and concealed in greatness.
I am the suns majestic flames.
The clarity of rain drops,
the zest ,to the minds
bland thoughts of boredom.
I am entertainment.
I am the wood pecker,
soaring steadily in the
balmy winds picking at success.
I am the eagles soaring over
sweet allysum, capturing the sent. 

Stupendous I am,
Preening my mind with knowledge,
a pen rigged with wisdom,
wisdom speaks beyond paper 
as it leaks from the pore of my quill.
I am the potion full of devotion. 
My pen rigged with morphine,
killing I hope the pain of my readers 
with poems.

You are no longer lugubrious,
lugubrious you are not.
Healed and fixed upon the first dosage.

I am ,I am ,
I am the poetic doctor,wooing medicine 
from the green pastures,
 to robe my pen with healing secrets.
I am the nectarines of peach orchards
 basting the mouth of pages with sweet words.
Sweet splash sweet splash. I am the sweet taste. 
I am the revival of a sun baked raisin, the
 revival to a corps laying beneath circling 
vultures of the Arabian dessert. 
I am the fragments of light circling your heart,a campfire,
the supplier of its poetic aspire. 
I am the fridge for poetic dreams,
preventing from expire, raising 
heat of poetry soup higher and higher. 

Ill never retire until my face
 wrinkled and my hair grey wire.
My pen aiming for a writing desire. 
On icy roads I keep traction with 
hot ink and mental snow tires.
I am a poet wrobed with 
creative ink and sapphire.
I am safe gaurding the gates
 of a dying world of poetry.

looked upon as a fool why should I stop, 
because kids from high school saide iam not cool,
what is their some rule that makes it uncool.
It must be april fools ,safe guarding 
your desire is a golden rule.
I am the hope, iam poetrys stool fueling
 it with my hand tool full of ink iam the talisman of poetrys gates.
I know who I am and this inspires ME!!!

By: Elliott Bowe
Inspirational Contest
Sponsor:Gail Doyle

A Fathers Gift

Your frequent absence made me question,
your existence and your importance.
I contemplated your possible ingredients to my growth.

I gazed at the stars at night, feeling the connection.
Hoping that you were watching, the same star lite sky.
Hoping you were seeing, the same images, that I was.
where ever you were.

You appeared.
Then disappeared.
Like the light of a blinking fire fly. I tried to grab that firefly,in the nature of a baffling night,but when I opened my palm, there was nothing in sight. I couldn't fathom your inconsistency of light.

I know you and my mom didn't agree on certain things. Thus you spewed words that you both regret now. Since you left, I became a ball with out air, under clouds that cried nails and chunks of glass.I pleaded with mystical nature, like freshly cut fingers of grass,pleading to hold sunlight of spring again.My vision obscure. Questioning your love and fatherhood all the more,and SURE that could change. 

Like season, if you gave me a reason, for your absence and you did.I was walking to the supermarket.With my head down,hands in pocket,rotating change,to cheer mood, with ***** sounds, of rhythmic jingles.

A hand roughly touched my shoulder,following with the words hey son!!!
where you going?

With perplexity I stopped. I turned slightly startled. A giant with facial hair,and a smile and a look, that some how made me forget, he was gone all the while. I gave him a hug. He gave me a bike and said hop on and look straight. He pushed and I peddled.After awhile,I looked behind me, he no longer had his hands on me,I was ridding alone.

Good job son! Keep going straight!

I laughed and did exactly that.
I rode my way to a happier day.
He ran next to me smiling with watery eyes. 
That explained every thing,
 that needed to be explained.

Then I realized he was guiding me,
with the absence of his hands,but 
remaining the presents of his fingerprints!!! 
His prints left instructions.


I CAN RIDE!!!


HAPPY FATHERS DAY!!!




Sponsor:Destroyer ~ Poet
Contest Name:Any poem 


Written by:Elliott Bowe
Form: Narrative

Puzzle

Hmm 
What is life ? some say life is a puzzle and I ask is it one we will ever complete?

Huh? Tell me will the puzzle ever be complete because I know and you know you can't just go in a store and buy the pieces in a box all pretty and neat.
 For these pieces people compete they don't just open a box and pour the pieces on a table and sit in a seat while munching on sweet treats!

They walk roads nebulous and rocky until they get blisters on their feet 
Rent has to be paid two jobs three kids and they still have to eat!

They try to keep their minds neat even though their knee deep and bound 
For defeat they continue to dig deep.

The pieces for this puzzle isn't cheap! Some pieces you throw away some
Pieces you keep but some pieces you hold in your hand and contemplate 
Without sleep! Some pieces might cut you inside and the wounds are 
Root deep.

I saw my mother bleeding I held her  face and said you need sleep she 
Said you know son that's the only time everything seems complete! 
She dropped some tears and walked away it reminded me of a rainy 
Day I grabbed her and said everything is going to be ok she said I know
The Lord is going to make a way but we just get emotional when he takes
Away so we break away those pieces he hides and temporarily takes-away!
 
We try to regain it because of our thirst it makes it worst instead of 
Our power we should make his first.

What is life? Some say a puzzle and it is complete all we have to do 
Is keep it neat but because of the devils deception we suffer blindness
And defeat . Let The Lord complete your puzzle  you just keep it neat.

Put aside your footsteps and let The Lord plant his feet don't walk
Ahead but walk with in his trail and you will never fail on the road to 
Victory you will sail  and when you fall don't cry to hard you
Might drown his voice instead give praise and rejoice and he will guide
Your choice. 

At the end your puzzle will be complete so hard so easy so soft so bitter sweet 
But with The Lord you can keep it neat.

By: Elliott Bowe aka the DrUnKeN PoEt

Vriendskap

Gewoonlik is my boundaries sterk 
Word ek assigned deur guidance met a Engels'vlerk
My journey neem langer en my sielsnare word gevleg
My boundaries raak flexible en a unieke konneksies word aanmekaar geheg
A journey het ontwikkel in a vriendskap so eg
Dit gaan my verstand te bowe want dis so opreg

God praat in a taal 
Wat ons laat stil staan
Aandagtig in afwagting laat luister
Na Sy liefdestaal wat Hy in ons harte fluister

God wil my wys ek is gebless
Sag en delikaat word ons 'gepress'
Hierdie keer is ek uitgebole vir a ses
Soms moet ek relax, let go en vergeet van die res
Hierdie is wat God vir my skets om te besef...

A vriendskap gestuur van Bo
A konneksie met frekwensies watse sein nie verloor 
God het ons gebless met baie in stoor 
A hegte band in ons harte in geboor

In a droom staan ek buite my liggaam en staar
Na a sielskonneksie so raar
A Visie in die droom omvou my om te aanvaar
God se tyd en redes is set in stone en klaar

Ek word gewys
ek is besig om op a deurskynende glasbord te skryf 
Met rooi cokie en merke soos ek uitvee en oor die bord vryf...
jy kom met jou blou cokie aan 
Help my met die organogram en teken a traan...
Verward staan my siel en kyk en wil net nader gaan... 
Let op na die stilte, die konsentrasie en vloei
Saam vorm ons die kleur op die bord wat gloei
In a moment kraak die glas in a spiderweb form...
Begin ons huil soos  a raining storm

Verward staan ek en kyk en vra Here wat nou???
Als was so spontaan hoekom kan dit nie aanhou???

Ek kry a duidelike antwoord wat van langs my af kom
Dink aan die visie...
dit slaan my stom...

A deurskynende glasbord so sterk en skoon
Maar wat is die doel as daar nie a boodskap in kleur vertoon
sonder kleur geskryf is die glasbord doelloos
Die 'smutch' merke op die bord is van gebeure in die lewe wat jou laat bloos
Die traan word vasgevang in die spiderweb
om jou te herinner julle is daar vir mekaar in die scattering moments of life in 'flashing' red
Live your life met veelvoudige pret.
Form: ABC


Art of Liquid War

Bella, my Bella,my sweet Cinderella Avvicinatevi
Bella allow me to girdle your cold vessel in this 
blizzard amidst my flames you can rest entwined
with mellow melodies of my chest as I caress your
heavenly as I comb through your mind with sizzling
breaths of lion exhale, inhaling particles of delight 
emanating from insurmountable cling as I sing from
soul, intensified by hold as you fold and mold a seed
soon to sprout as I shout your name Bella sweet Bella,
spicy taste buds serving dish of opulence hands  manage 
to hold several positions such like octopus, we squirt ink 
across lily white sheet our art complete,Picasso,Picasso, 
gallery of tender,griping your waist gripping your soul 
fondling in streams of harmless lava,gliding in sweat of Nevada.


Slipping in and out as you shout I cover your mouth as to not 
contaminate the canvas, as I cherish piece by piece until 
complete,a whole soul, the ceiling fan echoes erotic jungle 
in dark room, scientist of love discovering what keeps the
jungle alive as springs of mattress squeals and try to survive ,
wild monkeys swing from mattress to dresser backs against closet 
doors art of liquid war sweat smeared on all for walls ,I lift, wrapping
your legs around my waist drawing near my face extending tongue 
curling arms around your back until exact measure has been made
for penetration,we faint in whirl pool of exhaustion resting on our 
backs drowning rug with divine fluid. Our chest quickly rise and
deflate like a poorly made cake,the ceiling fan blows a breeze 
from heaven,I gaze into your eyes and realize your asleep,
I creep to your beauteous sleep and guide your dreaming to
another round, Bella,my Bella,my sweet Cinderella,caldo
abbraccio,arte della guerra liquido.
 
Italian-
Avvicinatevi-come close
caldo abbraccio-warm emrace
arte della guerra liquido-ART OF LIQUID WAR


By:Elliott Bowe

Beyond the Doors

A oval,round,bright and eccentric light slowly
sways in front of my eyes,I feel like the eyes
of the mountain,I have seen it all, I feel like 
the leaf of tallest tree, I feel the blood of a
lion flowing through me. My mind rolls over
into the portals of vivid and vibrant visions 
of dandelions floating down with multi color 
cells in wells of heaven , my wisdom swells,
while sinking into Sempiternal and ethereal
super-conscious of creativity, productivity,
comprehensibility and divinity of the mind,
with the most extremely keen vision I have
seen the bright beam of self. The gift of the
lush greenery burnt and inhaled, traveling 
in blood stream, my blood gleams as my mind 
steams in wisdom's pot transforming into wisdom's
ink as I think of words to accompany paper, the
brain stimulated and awakening the better self,
breath no longer desirable,feeling is numb as you
slowly drift in ineffable mellifluous beats of a drum,
unlocking the minds chamber of secrets,floating in 
a pile of whispers revealing mysteries, my mind is 
unlocked by a friendly shock of lush greenery. 
Up and up sent by a blast to a vast level of awareness, seeing
the soul of a tree and the eye of the sky, high up I fly
in that open eye seeing the truth in the world below 
from the eagles soul and the clouds brain,lifted by the
arms of the tree,mystical vapor of chemistry,I can 
visualize the map of my soul, paths that never bends but
ascends and blends with supreme unknown ,have you
seen the evanescent doors of your mind with door knobs
that shine and door mats made of words sublime,inside this state of 
mind there is a wind binding every thing aloof or close, 


all assembled as ONE.

By: Elliott Bowe

The Claw

I swim in the murky waters, diving deep, nails claw mud. Lowly, I may be bowing, but I am not drowning. No, I am not beat, the struggle is not defeat. My toes dig into the earth, to feel the tangible for what it?s worth. Eyes search to find light, struggling not losing the fight. Head lifted, I seek the sky. Let this stifled soul fly. The gray clouds follow me, blinding me, I cannot see. Living with the acrid smell of my own stale air. Life may be a gift, but it?s not always fair. Looking to God, I break through the bolted door, caught between Heaven and Hell, feet planted firmly on the floor. When did I forget to live, to feel the sun upon my face? When did I decide to hide from the human race? Strokes of times clenched in fear. I wonder if the end is near. Renew my faith, Lord. I know I am not beat! The struggle is never defeat. I swim upon the murky waters, I fight the bondage of chains, I struggle with a net that was set by the unknown. I beseech heavenly Father on divine throne, Will my words of despair reach his invisible ear? Till I am set free this pain I must bare, The Holy Scripture says have no fear, but that becomes difficult when the many monstrosities appear. It also said to gear thy self with prayer which can move mountains and withdrawal the darkest cloud, but still the gray clouds follow me a darkness swallows me, it seems to devour me. The Lord is my shield and buckler so nothing can overpower me. I will not run cowardly. If the gray clouds still follow me, I'll deploy my umbrella rain boots and a poncho it can continue to rain as long as the Lord keeps me dry... 




Collaboration by:Elliott Bowe ThE DrUnKeN PoEt & Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Hold Your Chess and Say I Am Blessed

Do not doubt who you 
are or who you can be.  
With in us all, 
their is a light that 
shines with effulgence. 
In our heart it shines. 
In our mind it shines.
A chunk of the sun 
embedded in our core. 

We have been fueled with
 the lions ambition.
Chasing the prey. 
Chasing dreams until the end. 
We have been fueled
 for the finest hours. 
Recognize those powers. 
These powers
 forever remain ours. 

We are the reason the sun shines. 
We are the reason the flower blooms.
We are the reason the tree never falls.
A message in every creation. 

The sun shines to show us 
how bright we can be.
The flowers blooms to show 
us how beautiful we can be. 
The tree never falls to show 
us how strong we can be.

All of this we can be. 
If we rise our self with the sun. 
Leave not your dreams and 
aspirations undone. 
Understand it to be beneficial 
in the long run.

Make life sweeter than a 
ton of sally-lunn ,sally-lunn. 
Out run the doubt until you have won. 
Understand that you are some one,
fit to run upon the sun and clouds.
Reach above and pick heavens flowers. 
So high up in the sky, gazing into 
the eyes of success. 
Hold your chess and say I am blessed. 
Your surroundings you impress.

Suppress, suppress and undress 
those doubtful thoughts.
Progress not digress, express
that light you possess.
Let success be your address. 

This I profess because once 
my light was put to the test. 
A light I lost in doubt. 
It was repossessed because
now I know I am truly blessed.
Do not doubt your self,
within all of us a light 
shines with effulgence.


By:Elliott Bowe
Definition for sally lunn:
a flat round sweet teacake usually served hot.
Enjoy: )

I Will Never Leave My Memories Forlorn

Times have passed,times have passed, far spent,far gone,
I sit on this step as I recollect all the times passed. 
Memories are vast. Happy times of past unfurl in my
mind,sad times of past unfurl while my head down,
angry times unfurl in red flames of aggressive words,
loving times of past unfurl in the freshest part of my
heart. Lessons of past illuminating the path to walk, 
shaping my words to talk.  Hidden knowledge covered 
by night shadows,now revealed by the sun of present day. 


I sway my way to the futures bay with knowledge 
revealed day by day. Times have past,times have past,
far spent,far gone, looking behind the road I walked
I see many steps, in many hues,many images in
many hues,all combined and fused, all albian, 
one, walking ahead to the peak of the sun with  
hues of my background kept alive, by rays of the present sun. 


Much I have lost ,much I have won but the journey continues
my time isn't done, walking ahead with times of fun, as I dance 
with the present rays of sun , towards futures rays I run. 
The mile ahead unknown,the mile behind, I've past. I've passed 
those times,but those times have never passed me,
walking life with a head full of memories. I walk past people
I know,they seem not to remember me,do people cherish
their memories. Cuddle with them for a while,rekindle the flames,
wrap them in a blanket of fluffy cotton,keeping them fresh and 
never to rotten. The lessons I've learned,never forgotten,
The emotions I felt, will never melt,for they played a key role
of who I became. 

Times have passed,times have passed, far spent,far gone,
I will never leave my memories forlorn

By:Elliott Bowe

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