"dow" poems
Clock is sea animals
Clock is a mock
Clock is a rock
Clock get you up
Clock get you dow
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
island summer heat
big backyards
shared by three families
with rambunctious kids
sundresses, sandals, swim trunks
a big mango tree and
a merry-go-round with red chipped paint
geckos and mud baths
"boy's got cooties!"
mid-west plains' dry, summer heat
Mr. Sun is our lamp well past 9:00pm
Dow St., a giant hill covered
in uniform houses, filled with the uniformed sacrificial
spinning wheels, acre-wide hide and seek
nintendo and donkey kong, fireflies in jars
front yard mulberry trees
pippy longstocking "lets' go into this 'cave' of vines"
poison-ivy
southern peninsula, humid, summer heat
above ground pools and trampolines
a red brick house; the first home
the first CD collection, Filipino food
THE PARK,
the sandbox lid drowning in the bayou
sleeping in guest rooms, sleepovers a sign of status
pelicans, ducks, fishing,
sleeping in the boat; camping on the beach
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 4:18 PM UTC
Manning up in Texas
Geldof overdose
needles at the bed stand
starlet comatose
California dreaming
killer meets demise
hurling in a taxi
puke fee on the rise
Fighting in the Gaza
Jordan's holy war
rebels on a mission
Jihad underscore
The North Korean riddle
pales in grand design
crisis on the border
planes fall from the sky
Cooking on a deadline
tempting tapenades
herbs are in the spotlight
wines that give a nod
Google maps the body
DOW at record highs
Uber comes to market
corn is on the rise
Apple on its earnings
Caterpillar dead
European sanctions
banks have **** the bed
Clippers threaten boycott
Longhorns follow purge
Lynch is out of training camp
James is on the verge
Leinart taking *** shots
coughing up a lung
lions take a licking
fans are throwing dung
Another day in Vegas
Primm from A-Z
rolling out an ankle
a flying SUV
Quiet tempting spaces
made better by design
multi color pea coat
silence fuels the mind
Stabbing in the subway
goat caught in a well
apes are selling tickets
(but leave behind a smell)
Puberty on trial
a man without a head
teachers feel alone
lets take them to the shed!
Jonah's tomb destroyed
wreckage in Mumbai
Sugar Daddy sites
Freedom 85
The immigrant debate
Russia's mounting toll
unions on a mission
heads are gonna roll
Beaches for the nudists
hotels on the cheap
the best generic brands
a list you have to keep!
Planning your estate
questions from the camp
a mansion up for sale
where once they filmed The Champ
Midwives threaten action
aboriginal act
truckers want concessions
that train has left the track
Sharks are found in Fundy
a prized but perilous catch
food we love to hate the most
an irrefutable batch
A family on the brink
I want my kids to fail!
politicians drains all hope
a ban on Israel
Follow out each headline
let the columns be your guide
all these things did happen
the day that Newhouse died
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 10:29 AM UTC
I love you
dow
w
n
to your jagged,
dark edges
culling smoke
and twisting tides
your steaming heart
that pulses, in my hands
as you give it-
and the pungent tears
when they fall
from your eyes
I lick up your pain
to soothe it smooth
its rawness catching
velvet ripples of skin
I pull a blanket
of mahogany wine
over your soul
lacerations
that seep out
from the layers within
and in that tender of
nightfall's darkest foliage
I long to calm
your monsters' clawing
as they gnaw at you from
the inside out
I crave to fill
the hollowed-out longing
my own hungers writhing
in obscene
devout
For I am all that is sacred and wild
the spark has been lit
from my innermost rooms
I dance to the drums of
the woman as child
her mystical ways chanting
rhythms in runes
Demons might dance
as you gaze in reflection
in the mirror of time,
of unfiltered space
but I adore all your sides,
your imperfections
discern the divine
in the planes of your face
You are my galaxy
of dark matter
bringing out my
own looking glass
of vantablack
in a feral crown of obsidian
and onyx
as you reach me deep,
there's no going back
For when you love me like that,
plant your tameless,
hot seed
it blossoms within me
a tightly-wrapped tourniquet
for when I bleed
and if my guts
should spill upon
the floor
you will remind me,
in glowing of pores
of who I am
and how I am whole
a lovelight lit in the
storm of my soul
I will push down deeper
until I feel those roots
that connect me to
my center
to my
succulent fruit
So slice me open.
Pull me apart.
Let the juice run down
to heal
your
jagged-edged
heart
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 5:59 PM UTC
Come! Supper is ready
Come! Boys and girls now,
For her is fresh milk
From the good molly cow.
Have done with your fife
And your row de dow dow,
And taste this sweet milk
From the good Molly cow
Whoever is fretting
Must clear up his brow,
Or he'll have no milk
From the good molly cow
And here is Miss *****
She means by mee ow,
Give me too some milk
From the good Molly cow
When children are hungry,
Oh who can tell how
They love the fresh milk
From the good Molly cow
So when you meet Molly
Please say, with a bow,
"Thank you for your milk,
Mrs.good Molly cow."
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 9:45 AM UTC
Forbegging yay Progress, me Most High Lord
Besoothe thaye Stock's High-Cast-Baste-Reborough
And Livvenny-Lug, quain Twill-Truth's-Be-Word
Would Sluggenny-Bust thaye Pell's Arthorough
Aye, take them Less to thore Summerful Sum
Therr quine bemime blubber-boost up-to-front
Shanty ye, Crown, dow Caraparcel's Hum
Laugh more shan't take much Desire on Wont
We porkify Lub-Senses wore Jiggers clude
Feast-Tea ye Merry; Jolly-Cant, digress
Till Ferry thaye Maidens; And Torque-Pie, ****
Rode ye Arkins - Road! Be thaye Kiss address.
Labber ye, Throne, deserve Cot's Privilege
Roar Pull-Course Attract; Mine Concubinage.
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC
On the day Liz Taylor died,
CNN called Larry King
out of retirement to
eulogize her during
the mornings
breakfast segment.
Tears were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
TEPCO stated that one
of the Fukushima nuclear
reactors was on fire.
Tears of cataclysm
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
government officials warned
that Tokyo's water was
contaminated with
radiation and was not fit
for infants to drink.
Tears of anguish
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
the crew of the
USS Ronald Reagan
scrubbed the deck
clean of TEPCO
radiation.
Tears of worry
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
Oregonians rushed out to
buy potassium iodine
tablets to counteract
radiation poisoning.
Tears of affliction
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
NATO forces continued
to fire missiles and drop
bombs on Libya.
Tears of agony
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
a terrorist bomb exploded
in Jerusalem, killing one
and injuring many.
Tears of vengeance
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
the Syrian Army fired on
demonstrators
calling for reforms.
Tears of hostility
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
The USA Today reported
that during the past decade
the population of Detroit
declined by 25%.
Tears of loss
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
a dilapidated brownstone
in Philadelphia collapsed;
city officials expect
many more to occur.
Tears of distress
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
President Obama cut
short his Latin American
trip by skipping a tour of
Mayan ruins.
Tears of dismay
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died
the Dow Jones Industrial
Average closed
up 67.39 points.
Tears of joy
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
Elton John dedicated the song,
Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
to the memory of his departed friend.
Tears were shed.
You Tube Music Video:
Elton John,
Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
Lewes DE
3/23/11
jbm
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Court’sied when you have, and kiss’d,—
The wild waves whist,—
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
Hark, hark!
Bow, wow,
The watch-dogs bark:
Bow, wow.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow!
2.7k
This town is famous
for pretty faces,
broken legs,
and misplaced names--
A sentence penned,
An Oxford comma
dangling off the edge of pages,
setting off appositive phrases,
lighting fuses--accidental--
phasing out of view and staging
tactical retreats
The winds of February mark off
intersections
Dow & Broadway
Midnight laughs echo off stratos
then fall back--
snowstorms at midday.
Caught in the rain on Sunday evening
this place don't stay awake so late.
Except, perhaps, for pretty faces,
misplaced names, or broken legs--
But forget the Oxford comma
retreating, drenched, off of the page.
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
Where buses still elapse with Time
Down straight Dame Street
The Trees are satellites that allow Children to look up
and let the pavement breath.
Earthen Columns that gate the Boombox Clubhouse tint
Flanked by the Yeoman Guards of Hollister
but forget to pay the same compliment
outside of American Apparel
Where Teenagers dream out fantasies
of lamp-lit, flash-shot
worship-worthy objectification
in a converted loft in the real New York
Their headphones spring streams of bright optimism
as they cradle knitted knee-high socks.
Take the curve round Trinity College
and laugh past the rumours
that it may soon float on Dow Jones
and dodge past the charity advertisers
Strutting over campbags of sleeping homeless
to Lemon Cafe for an overpriced Mocha
Which regardless deflates the sheen-covered hollowness
of green-comfy Starbucks
and learn the subtleties of speaking lightly
to dark-jaceketed Blonde girls
Whose eyes seem to sparkle "Yes, we have sipped
on Veuve Clicquot at reserved tables on Graduation nights
at Cafe En Seine"
-"Where Oscar Wilde might have drank"
- "..Had he been alive."
Then speculate on the best Festivals and whose
Films and Books are over-hyped and under-appreciated
and the after-College Gossip on who broke-up or stayed together
or who hooked up even though they shouldn't have
or regretted it
and who's doing a paid internship and who's moving abroad
and afterwards charmingly tease their superficial attitudes
as meanwhile they secretly take photos
to upload on Instagram
and later you'll fake-admonish them
for how they did this behind your back
while you were staring into the lake
in St. Stephen's Green.
When the moon no longer glazed the water
and had receded its contrast to the farthest grass
and you decide to take the last bus home.
Throughout
Caution Glints The Vowels
and Brands them too.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
*I see it happening
My eyes are open
While yours are closed
I can see whats happening
Right under my nose.
I try to believe you
I do understand
Believe me i do
But the trust was lost
Even though i see you are true
Ive been hurt before
And to gain it back is hard to do
It is hard me to trust
So its not an easy task
But if we put up a fight
We can put everything in the past
You can earn my trust
You deserve to have it back
Its just hard to light it back up
Once everything has turned black
Im not sure why im this way
I have been abandoned
I have been stabbed in the back
And knocked dow by the wind
Im trying to look up
And give a fair chance
Theres just one thing holding me back
One thing keeping me in a trance.
The source of all the pain
The source of all this mess
But if you're willing to start again
Lets put our love to the test.*
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
what does little Ernest croon
in his death at afternoon?
(kow dow r 2 bul retoinis
wus de woids uf lil Oinis
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 3:24 PM UTC
recto:
I send this from the little cell wherein
I dwell, a sealed room without a door,
no latch or bell or knocker waiting for
those whom some debt or doom or mortal sin
might draw towards this private tomb.But for
one single tiny window set up high
which holds a poor small square of greying sky
where thin birds’ flightlines scratch the current score
there’s no way in or out. Yet I shall try
to find that secret power that lies within,
that quiet light that I am storing in
this room in which I live until I die.
verso:
I send this from the little cell
wherein dwell, a sealed room
without a door, no latch or bell
or knocker waiting for those whom
some doom or debt or mortal sin
might draw towards this private tomb.
But for one single tiny win-
dow set up high which holds a poor
small square of greying sky where thin
birds’ flightlines scratch the current score
there’s no way in or out. Yet I
shall try to find that secret power
that lies within, that quiet light
that I am storing in this room
in which I live until I die.
turbo:
I send this from the little cell wherein I dwell,
a sealed room without a door, no latch or bell
or knocker waiting for those whom some debt or doom
or mortal sin might draw towards this private tomb.
But for one single tiny window set up high
which holds a poor small square of greying sky where thin
birds’ flightlines scratch the current score there’s no way in
or out. Yet I shall try to find that secret power
that lies within,that quiet light that I am stor-
ing in this room in which I live until I die.
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
America, the beautiful...
do you see what I see?
A country stuck on life support
A dead economy?
America, America...
.please take a breath for me
Ford, GM and Chrysler
Are no longer the big three
Our plants are closed
Our dollar *****
the Dow Jones is joke
Our people can't afford to live
Our dreams went up in smoke
America, America
You'll come back once again
But now you're flat upon your back
On an eight count out of ten
Your soldiers fight, For what is right
On shores so far away
There's battles that need fighting though
Inside the USA
America, America
Please get up off your knees
Most of what we buy from you
Is made by the chinese
Your country has come back before
We're sure that you'll be fine
Recovery won't happen fast
Your eight count's up to nine
America, America
Before they count you out
Stand up and yell
without a doubt
We'll triumph once again.
We'd love to hear Kate Smith once more
Sing out about how great
America can be agian, Before it is too late
America, America
God Shed his Grace on Thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From Sea to Shining Sea.
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 3:36 PM UTC
********
smunghole
in the ********
was a scattootle
scattootle bootle wootly?
bow wow slam dow sham wow
spow spow pow pow pop
pop pop pop
watchin nigga's drop
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 4:08 PM UTC
Nailed the nail
in the wall
There was a
a metal plate
Emptied entire box
of those nails
Smashed in wall!
Fell on floor
I threw picture
out of win-dow
Eating drywall so
**** on nails
When I wash
hands, soapy, soap
Popping bubbles, rub
clockwise no, yes?
~Alan Moore? *
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 10:50 PM UTC
lessons of life's sanctity,
clarity of reason
and chastity
elude
the sociopath unglued;
clouded lens
filtering threads
of sense
common from extreme,
relishing shreds of conspiracies
unfounded...
tying the falling dow and twin-towers...
to call of duty and
the man....
in the slick blue suit
with the funny last name
sticking it to us,
stripping us of our inalienable rights,
god-given,
taking our bibles and guns away
to mombasa
spiraling memes of dysfunction
programmed to propagate fallacies
in minds unhinged
on the fringes of reality...
like paranoiacs
sipping green tea
or a.m. fanatics
fueling the frenzy
of sociopaths unglued,
licensed to spill
sacred blood
of the masses
at a crowded school
or movie theater
near you
now previewing:
*~ mass homicide XII
&
~ teenage terrorist in black - the sequel*
home-grown
&
fully-loaded...
~ P (Pablo)
(8/5/2013)
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 11:54 AM UTC
From: Life is a ***** Quotes;
"The *** was
so good even the neighbors
had a cigerette"
'Hahaha good one' I said
'and even better yet'
(the *** (souled union) 'with and no one dared'
'lit one up'
'and called it ever after'
'for the inner fire glow'
'merged with thee outer'
'already and forever willing'
'in the truer feng shui'd'
'human endeavor'
'in the tantric'
(say like dow)
'Tao'
(and mean as way)
'of'
'All'
(be)
'Being'
That is love truely expressing itself through oneness with the One Law of Love!!!
The X (factor) is yours and possibility is interdependent upon the X of you!!!
From the Eternal and smokeless fire, Sa Sa Sunny
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 5:08 PM UTC
It aches when I smile.
My State's a disaster.
Coal rollers, burnouts and days full of rapturous
laughter and "Red Face"
down in Lusk in the hot days
of Summer--it's boiling;
Winter winds burn up your face.
I first learned to hate
myself in a snowstorm
on Dow Street in Sheridan.
My best friends are the slow warmth
that spreads through the chest,
lifts a cold heart, grabs popcorn and pints
at the Blacktooth on hundreds of nights.
And 500,000 simple souls are a sight.
Still they're just half a million salty
drops in the ocean--
A quick squall of rain on the Bighorns.
They've opened the floodgates for *********
morons, bigots and rednecks
and rich, ******* ranchers thinking
everyone owes them.
And their dollars are deadpan
gallows jokes down in Cheyenne.
But I've seen cheap smiles 4 miles wide
out by Sundance.
And I've got good friends that I still carry with me
like the potent, sweet, earthy afterburn of good whiskey,
or the smell of the lodgepoles in the Spring
up in Story.
And it's still my home
even though it's so empty.
It's still my home
though it sometimes seems ******
That State's in my bones,
I don't think it'll leave me.
So please understand that some nights
when you find me,
you've stumbled across a small splinter
chipped off of Wyoming.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
(Verse 1:)
Sometimes wish I could just end it all
Truthfully
I will never have the *****
Stand atop a building fifty-something feet tall
Look dow
Never fall
I want courage to take the first step off and fly
I am holding out for a more noble way to die
(Hook:)
I keep running
Keep on running
I cannot stop
Think I need some help
I keep running
Keep on running
I cannot stop
Can't get away from myself
(Verse 2:)
Is there life after we are dead and gone?
If not
Energy still survives on
Trying to not be scared of the great beyond
Embrace journey whether short or long
Begin every dawn with a smile on my face
Gratitude that can't be erased
Too much ******** to evade or avoid
World is not perfect
Can always be enjoyed
(Hook)
(Verse 3:)
Either way I gotta face it
Embrace life
I can't erase it
Can't trade places with someone and I can't quit
Wear my shoes
They the only pair that fit
But realized a long time ago
Feeling full of questions
Should probably let go
Accept that some things I'll never know
If you are not learning
You'll never grow
Dec 23, 2022
Dec 23, 2022 at 9:08 PM UTC
i have become a
declining
buck that
still wants
to make some good
old-fashioned doe
in this economy
anything is
a ray of
sunshine
my standard
and poor’s have
been looking up lately
snoop dogg and
dow jones want
to give me
some extra
pointers on how
to close the
deal
on some
fine dime
brizzles
this stimulus
package
has made me a
rising buck again
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
Who gives a ****
so I wrote another winer, boo hoo you twit
think anyone cares, just who gives a ****
I am just a grain, of sand in the wind
my pain is nothing and the horned one just grinned
yeah so now I'm bitter, my attitude *****
I'd kick your *** for a lousy 5 bucks
its only a flesh wound I've certainly had wurse
I'm a wineing ****** I'll hit you with my purse
got pains in my arms, and I'm a pain in the ***
had Taco Bell for dinner, and now I got gas
my stomach is rumbling, think I'm sick just a bit
why don't you tell me now, just who gives a ****
the Dow is down, my pressure is high
cholesterol is big, can't eat no sweet pie
I'm a no good *** full of vinegar and spit
do you really think, anyone gives a royal ****
at least they finally plugged, the leaking of oil
that's what they claim, sing for me Susan Boyle
the problem with peaches, in the middle is a pit
if I choked on one now, just who would give a ****
yes I've had me some wine, and I'm a pathetic dude
my mouth can get foul, yes I can be crude
wonder what it would be like, to be Brad Pitt
I guess one is enough, like who gives a ****
tomorrow is Monday, so glad I don't work
in customer service or a grocery clerk
listen to ******* about the service they get
c'mon now, you think I give a shit
I could probably rant, for more than theirs time
the jaws flapping on, my hands covered in grime
this year's British Open, no Americans seemed fit
it's all over now, and really no one gives a shit...
Gomer Lepoet...
Jul 18, 2010
Jul 18, 2010 at 9:52 PM UTC
Refrain:
Oh Mr. Obama its your war now
war profits are up and so is the Dow
we've carried the gun and dropped the plough
these wars must end so end them now
Osama bin Laden hit us hard
he knocked down our buildings
in a murderous barrage
then President Bushie
atop a rubble heap
vowed to **** Osama
bury em for keeps
Refrain:
Oh Mr. Obama its your war now
war profits are up and so is the Dow
we've carried the gun and dropped the plough
these wars must end so end them now
W and Dickie invaded Afghan
soon thereafter disposed of Saddam
seven years later casualties swell
these wars are nightmares a living hell
Bombs destroy civilian homes
missiles strike by killer drones
collateral damage a cardinal sin
hearts and minds we'll never win
Oh Mr. Obama
this is your war now
we don't care who started it
it don't matter no how
sign the peace papers
make the hard call
bring the troops home
before one more falls
to build our country
we need global friends
fightin for oil
is war without end
You must think it over
give it some thought
the lives you ended
the horror wrought
Refrain:
Oh Mr. Obama its your war now
war profits are up and so is the Dow
we've carried the gun and dropped the plough
these wars must end so end them now
Our country needs fixin
there's much to do
jobs, health n schoolin
and homeless vets too
you got a Nobel
a prize for peace
you said war was hell
is too hard to cease
to continue the course
to bomb and bash
hate grows against us
we risk a great crash
a hope we can believe in
you would oft say
you win election
we don't change our ways
these wars are pointless
don't make no sense
bring the troops home
let the war machine rest
Refrain:
Oh Mr. Obama its your war now
war profits are up and so is the Dow
we've carried the gun and dropped the plough
these wars must end so end them now
Afghans are dying
they take up arms
to **** young Yanks
and do us harm
so think of moms,
lovers and friends
of young dead soldiers
we'll never hold again
how are you sleeping?
do you toss and turn?
do the faces of dead ones
make your conscience burn?
So Mr. Obama
just bring them home now
the Good Lord will bless you
beat swords into ploughs
Refrain:
Oh Mr. Obama its your war now
war profits are up and so is the Dow
we've carried the gun and dropped the plough
these wars must end so end them now
Music Selection:
Country Joe and the Fish: Feel Like I'm Fixing to Die Rag
jbm
NYC
3/15/10
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 6:30 AM UTC