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Best Poems Written by Dale Gregory Cozart

Below are the all-time best Dale Gregory Cozart poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

I'Ve Never Heard Snow

I've never heard the sound of snow
nor dawning's oboes crooning light,
yet witnessed angels' trumpets blow

and chimings of the flurries grow
as alabastrine wings take flight.
I've never heard the sound of snow

when cello strings caress the bow
of morning at its burnished height,
yet witnessed angels' trumpets blow

a salmon cirrus cameo, 
diaphanous and opalite.
I've never heard the sound of snow,

piano in the afterglow
of sunshine's brittle fahrenheit,
yet witnessed angels' trumpets blow

ebullient through the chorals' flow
'cross winter's operatic white.
I've never heard the sound of snow,
yet witnessed angels' trumpets blow.

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

The Rowboat On the Marsh

I don't need mawkish photographs to see
the drowning rowboat tethered to the dock,
a withered seahorse clinging to debris
as umber water seeps through feeble caulk.

The cord grass will have grown up through the planks
to marry splinters teeming on the pier,
putrescent pillars tilted by the banks;
a pallid corpse beside the marsh's bier.

Those summers when we sailed through brackish mist
have long since gone the way of floating sculls
that languish in the asters to be kissed
by empty oarlocks perched atop their hulls.

Your August ghost still flounders on the fen
then sinks beneath in nightmares now as then.

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

Somewhere Exotic

The pungence of heartbreak swelters
in the tangled dreadlocks of love-lies-bleeding
Take me somewhere exotic
to breathe not the foul aroma
of disappointment and despair
Show me fields laced with frangipani and orchids
in colors sweet and light as daydreams
Find me seafoam fields poppied
with pomegranate and honey 
opium of jasmine lilting on a leeward drowse
delicious sift of sand drifting
warm and soft between my toes
as coral breezes court flamingo scapes
with pina colada suns
and I drift in and out of hibiscus euphoria
Let a mist of cockatoos flutter
in lapis skies puffed with fat feather clouds
parrots and toucans preening
like a rainbow shimmer
Tingle my pineapple senses
through the afterglow of mango afternoons 
Create visions of paradise
in the cerulean of hyacinth
and never bring me back

7/19/17

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

I Am Not Brave

How brave the amaryllis is
emerging naked from the soil,
an umber golden spear to pierce
the heresy of August air.

I am not brave like pilgrim bulbs,
though planted fifty years ago,
still sending offspring to the sky
determined in a hostile sphere

to brave remorseless elements
and kiss the hummingbird in flight
with coronets of newborn pink
that preach the coming of the light.

I am the baptist of the leaves
that peer above the April soil
and tendril hope in emerald verse
to cleanse the pagan garden dirt,

but only lay the nest of that 
which must come later. I regret
I'm not the swan of human myth
that floats poetic on a lake

then sings my one seraphic note
upon my death. Indeed I am
but flesh that dies before the bloom
which glows an iridescent psalm.

8/1/19

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

Still I Run

I race for summer's setting sun
as crimson bleed the alder leaves
and still I run.  And still I run.

My rival, time, is yet undone.
Past pyramids of flaxen sheaves
I race for summer's setting sun

across the low unbroken run.
Each cow out in the pasture grieves
and still I run.  And still I run.

In late September’s crisp blazon
my heart to fragile hope now cleaves.
I race for summer's setting sun.

With slaughter of the calves begun
I fled beneath the killing eaves
and still I run.  And still I run.

Our time on earth is under gun.
My burning chest now breathless heaves.
I race for summer's setting sun
and still I run.  And still I run.


10/24/17

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

The Curse: Collaboration

A man with a quiet demeanor
was cursed with a miniscule wiener.
He tried lotions and pills
But not one cured his ills.
Now he's a silent nail hole cleaner.

BY DALE GREGORY COZART

His todger though tiny still worked. 
When he went for a wee it jerked. 
He could still have full sex. 
It was rather complex, 
but when it was over he smirked.

BY JAN ALLISON

His wee-wee was indeed very wee
to the extent that no one could see.
When asked, “Are you a man?”
He replied, “Yes, I am.
You can follow up stream when I pee.”

BY DALE GREGORY COZART

Went out for a night with a hooker
Blonde but thick and no looker
When she saw his todger
Said my dog is bigger
You're taking me for a sucker

BY SEREN ROBERTS

A silent curse shrunk his wee to a teeny thing
I swear it is no bigger than a lil chicken wing
For sex a useless reject
Can't tell when its erect
We make jokes about his miniature ding a ling

BY MARTI

Wait a minute please, I won't tell a lie
isn't always small, it's big as apple pie
the winds were mighty chilly
affecting my poor old Willie
now you hurt my feelings, think I'm gonna cry

BY TIM SMITH

Big Bertha said, "It ain't the cubic inches
nope, the part for me what clinches
is strokes per minute
while they's in it
not a tool needs movin' with winches."

BY LIM'RICK FLATS

if you want join in the fun!

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

A Wild Rose

This bridge has arched the lake's narrows
for a century, flanked on either side
by Autumn trees shedding their faded leaves,
blowing with the first snowflakes
across worn gray stones of my spirit.

Six months ago you felt the first pain.
Now you lie in white sterility
of hospice care, continually exorcizing
the feeding tube, a final tether 
binding you to earth,
where the morphine pump wheezes
every fifteen minutes 
and missionaries advise prayer
to the strength-less living.

Your a**hole oncologist told me your suffering
was none of my business.
I told him to take his prognosis,
as suffocating as the pine cleaner
lingering like miasma
over hallway linoleum,
and get the f**k out.

From the corner of my eye
I spot a wild rose sprouting on the bank
at the base of a haggard maple,
an anomaly in bleak October,
glaring crimson as my resentment,
angry as the dream when I said,
I'll be your will when yours is gone.

Knowing full well it won't survive the winter,
I give fate the finger
from my dismal perch,
just as I gave you two dozen such blooms this Mother's Day.
I'll see you in Spring,
rises the phoenix from my Summer ashes.

The flurries thicken around me
like a gathering of angels.
With eyes stinging
I toss plucked petals of pennies
into the Judas lake
while wishing as hard as I can.

12/31/18

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

Orange Blossoms

The amethyst paeans of hyacinth
crest with a gust of butterflies
on the scent of orange blossoms
cascading to earth like snow flakes.
Blood-red geraniums blazon Spring's birth
not with a pulsing blare,
but the soundless blush
of love's ardent swoon.
Placid jade fronds drape, 
acquiescing to silent bees
emerging from blond snapdragons
as euphoria of being exudes 
from the garden's breathless murmur.

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

I Saw a Sundrop: Constanza

I saw a sundrop in a field,
a daffodil to be exact,
stand brave upon the snow-filled tract.

In blighting cold it would not yield;
long since its fellows disappeared
to that one spot it still adhered,

though flurries did the winter wield.
The autumn did its namesakes in
before the hoarfrost could begin

and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
with falling rain becoming snow.
The way of death it would not go

as though behind a covert shield
that kept its sunlit attitude
when sleet unto the land ensued.

I saw a sundrop in the field,
in blighting cold it would not yield,
though flurries did the winter wield
and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
as though behind a covert shield.

11/15/17

Details | Dale Gregory Cozart Poem

Ode To Chocolate-Collaboration

To chocolate I pay my respects
Some folks say its better than sex
whether milk dark or white
Ev’ry bar I must bite
or I'll get a lack of choccy complex

I NEED chocolate it’s an unwritten rule
I'm a woman not a blithering fool
Give me a constant supply
On days that end with a Y
when choc’s smeared round my mouth it looks cool

BY JAN ALLISON

Most women love something that’s sweet
And chocolate it cannot be beat
Deny them and they’ll pout
Choc is all they think about
Many men think it's all that they'll eat.

BY DALE GREGORY COZART

She lustingly said to bring some to her room
off went my trousers in a vertical zoom
I gazed in her eyes
but to my surprise
I gave her the chocolate she gave me a broom

BY TIM SMITH

Give me the chocolate and forget the sex
But please don't send it through Fed Ex
It'll melt in the summer
And that's a real bummer
Now that's a problem to vex and perplex

BY LIN LANE

Chocolates make me feel great
I forget the part about weight
If I was a tad thinner
Would think chocolate ideal for dinner
Will settle for sex after eight

BY SEREN ROBERTS

Chocolate is all that she wishes
She loves anything that Swiss is
I brought her a box
She quick changed the locks
Guess I’ll just go sleep with the Mrs.

BY DEAN WOOD

One woman with sweet loving lips
ate nothing but dark chocolate chips.
Her husband's retort?
"To enter her port
is like docking between two battleships!"

BY LIM'RICK FLATS