Long Jowls Poems
Long Jowls Poems. Below are the most popular long Jowls by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jowls poems by poem length and keyword.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you go?
I miss your deep colors, I miss your pure glow.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you run?
My time here is gone and soon I'll be numb.
Up in the mountains, or over the streams.
Perhaps in the meadows, or under the trees.
I stand here in shadows, looking for light,
But nothing does come on this shallow, poor night.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you go?
I miss your deep colors, I miss your pure glow.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you run?
My time here is gone and soon I'll be numb.
Here they come with untamed reigns,
Gnawing and grinding at my free chains
Their loose jowls pour over my blood,
As I sit here afraid of what I have done.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you go?
I miss your deep colors, I miss your pure glow.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you run?
My time here is gone and soon I'll be numb.
I'm sorry my dear, I'm sorry I doubted.
I believe in your ways and now know you have sprouted.
Save me, my love, for you are my hope,
The dogs now come to chew on my bones.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you go?
I miss your deep colors, I miss your pure glow.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you run?
My time here is gone and soon I'll be numb.
I've planted you deep within your own dirt,
And regret my mistake as I sit by the hearth.
My tears continue to water your bed,
So open your heart and hear what I've said.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you go?
I miss your deep colors, I miss your pure glow.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you run?
My time here is gone and soon I'll be numb.
Are my prayers wasted, am I to blame?
I've given you my pride and all I have gained.
I'm humbled by fear, and choke on my lies,
But I give you my all, just look at my eyes.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you go?
I miss your deep colors, I miss your pure glow.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, where did you run?
My time here is gone and soon I'll be numb.
Take my hand, my sweet lover's sin,
And hold me close as the pain draws in.
Look to the light and relinquish your grief,
For the good father's here at the time of your peace.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, I've seen where you go.
I see your deep colors, I see your pure glow.
Oh Daisy, my daisy, together we run.
My time here is forever and I'll never feel numb.
That room;
And the bathroom too,
She made them alien territory.
My petty sentiments kicked in,
And made me a slave to my roommate.
The scented atmosphere, stockings;
Frilly brassieres in plain sight,
And blouses bright as gardens—thrilling,
But foreign!
Lo, an invasive roommate.
Some mornings she would come
Out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam:
Hair in a towel— enchantingly beautiful :
A leg flashing from her bathrobe;
The roommate's pre-dating game.
Some nights she would stay in bed.
The seductive V beneath her throat aloof.
She thought it so peaceful to be with me.
She would leave my mind intertwisted;
The ideal roommate for me.
She would talk about her lover
In such excruciating detail,
But the whispery flute of her voice
Was so light it made everything
Around her seem heavy and harsh.
My jowls sagged as they listened to her.
I sat with her like those monoliths,
My squat boulders plumped upright.
I regretted every night I let her
Sleep on the bed next to mine.
The soft breaths of my sleeping beauty
Would leave me dreaming of dominion.
I would gaze at her face for a little while;
Longer everyday because
She was my roommate.
Once she went away for a night.
I left the lights off and just stood there;
I just breathed the alien air,the perfume.
Then I crept to her closet; I reached inside;
I hid a letter for her to find.
She read my letter and one night
She was scared of the dark.
She invited me over to her bed.
My hand rubbed against her velvet skin
And my little heart played rock 'n' roll.
I rubbed a slip of hers between my fingers It was so sheer it seemed to catch on
The ridges of my fingerprints.
That night I had my very first kiss
From my roommate.
Chained
And trained
For years
Feed rancid meat
No thoughts of defeat
Hit with sticks
And a boot up the ass
Starved of culture
Indoctrinated
Into a baying
Pack of dogs
Ugly scared faces
That blank
And black stare
Any sign of emotion
Instant demotion
Set upon
By his own
Pack of dogs
They go by
Sobriquets
Such as
Blacks regret
Death on legs
Dripping jowls
Harbinger of death
Big
Short
Scarred
And tattooed
But all tarred
With that brush
For dogs
And when it’s all over
All the wars are spent
Their waved goodbye
At the kennel fence
Let loose
Into normal
What’s he to make?
His loved one’s
At a lose
His B#tch cries
Battered and bruised
His pups shy away
And he
Pines for his pack
As he reaches
For the brown bag bottle
That needle
On the ground
As that’s all that keeps
Those howling demons at bay
And those faces he slayed
All there to remind him
Of his pack of dogs
Parchment reach reap, continual column
Turns over huge too ripe drooping vegetables
Dirt encrusted, grit bitter varietal problem
Sown hammock slack jowls of expired eligible
Rows of sour seeds scatter, screen remote
Hits rock of dark past in cyber seclusion
Parsnips tumble imprudent from trenchcoat
Revelations conspire as a cosy delusion
Bedroom Belle picks weakness with a sickle
Amps up apathetic with chicken meal
Prods tired produce, hoary humour tickled
Caustic crop farmer fertile hands heal
Twenty Seventh of June
Twilight clients of Jezebel
the pantomiming madman squeals appeals
as tall gray shadows elongate along the wall
like black-hearted judges brewing venom
within their jowls bulging and anticipating
the reaping of tears and tremulous wails
the growl of steel-bars and the verdict of iron-doors
molds monsters masticating pheromones of trepidation
as the silent song of degradation infects ears of prisoners
dripping nightmares into their brains wading in masks
the jolting alarm of roll-call roiling disjointed curses
falling into the melody of servitude marching in syncopated
perpetual motion as granite guards grind their hard jaws
scanning with silver mirrors pupils expanding and contracting
inside hellish universes of the condemned fingering fissures
hemorrhaging light illuminating scales of a screeching snake…
During the day
there's a deceptive lull
in the staid common parlor
when the home seems deadly dull
Stale air, disinfectant and potpourri
stirred only by the worried, hurried strides
of harried nurses down hectic halls
stuffy efficiency personified
In contrast to those, the steady repose
of regular residents
dressed up and posed
as odd antique mannequins
in fusty old clothes
like some bizarre storefront
window display
Obsolete, old folks
like aged birds perch
lean and lurch
awkward and angular
nodding and napping
half-waking, flapping
on various arm chairs
Others like basset hounds
lay the room 'round
eyes shut, drooping jowls
intermittent gentle growls
little subtle snores
comfy and carefree
bodies drowsily draped over
the sides of settees
Insensible to sound
and drooling a bit
sweetly sleeping all throughout
like innocent toddlers
with cookie-smeared faces
ingenuous and
all played out
Then eventually, nursing staff
bustles them awake
for activities, dinner
more medicines to take...
Then off to bed
as visitors leave
deluded and deceived
thinking that's all there is
pitiful old people, tragically perceived
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.
Oh, finely feathered fellow
with plumage of green and yellow,
your Houdini-esque abilities
and astounding circus-like agilities
make my flabby jowls drop with surprise
at how easily your hooked beak can prise
any dwarf-sized opening in your cage,
to open so easily, under your gauge.
Your stuffed, fat, feathered body can
fit through anything. Yes, I'm a fan.
Your squeaky, squawky, shrill talking
lets me know my efforts you're mocking
as I try to burglar proof your cage
as you shriek at me in indignant rage.
You really should hope that I succeed
because if I don't, the cat you'll feed.
04/04/2013
~~~ for Suzanne's Synathroesmic Cat contest ~~~
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
when a dream seeped
into a dome of light,
I was already leaping
with tale of grand sights
I was falling into
days consciousness
but a demonic spell
had begun to possess
in a depth of sleep
in the quietest dark,
I felt a presence
slide to make a spark
a nightmare of jowls
shadowed his face,
then his slimy fingers
stuck into my grace
he took my thoughts
on a hellish ride,
I was hoping my mind
didn’t burst open wide
the torture of angels
struggling on the racks,
was matched by the faeries
whip-marks on their backs
the mushrooms of love
had fungus and warts,
a cathedral of dreams
slipped out of all thought
with unicorns hobbled
and chains on their legs,
the elves head bandages
held together with pegs
the beautiful sights
I had run back to tell,
was lost in a nightmare
as I was living in hell
but endless this horror
well, it wasn’t to be,
as I write this poem
that dream is set free
but that’s not to say
that it wont return,
as I sleep in the night
dreams start to burn