"kow" poems
Wife-beater, drum player
blower of holy pan-pipes
Plumed, bejeweled in ****** plastic
Inca priest, mestizo beast
multi-kulti prophet
(who chooses to live in the USA)
where liberals kow-tow
while you show them how
to adulate indigenous
crypto misogynous
eager to pay eager to please
diversity’s devotees buy your CDs
a perfect idiot from the mythic Sierra
naming your brood after Andean peaks
pre-Columbian pachamama freaks
eat it up: your Inca schtick
(but ask the battered gringa-chick
about your unsustainable ways:
who hits who smiles who beats who pays ?)
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 11:58 AM 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
Space Cowboy
He said he was a Miller
but he carried a kow-kow calculator
see him on the street
he'd say hey I'll catch you later
from children of the future
a 10 gallon Stetson on his head
he could fly like an eagle
or cruise his Mercury blues instead
they say he took the money and ran
rumor was Junior saw it happen
yeah he and ***** Mae
boy did he need a good ***** slappin'
years later he was seen in swingtown
a joker jumpin' for jungle love
lost his golden key to the highway
hoping to find wild mountain honey above
c'mon and dance make some romance
bump bump bump on the steppin' stone
he left again on a big jet airliner
and never did answer his telephone
Gomer LePoet ....
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 10:30 PM UTC
I speak a thousand words in a glance, Propose to you in a text, generally be the guy I was meant to be.
And you still love me for me.
What is it that keeps you close to me? Is it my pretend swag? My book sense? My love of expression? My eyes? All of the above, or more likely, none? I don’t know why and I don’t know how, but I won’t concern myself with it.
I love you too, although I don’t say it much and I can’t assume you kow. But it’s true, I love you too much to let you go, do too much to consider having a way out of the ways that we love each other.
~signed the lover from afar.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
Some once called him a Grand Old Man,
Others called him a slime,
You couldn’t get a consensus that
Was even, all the time,
For some kow-towed to his money, while
Others fell by his sword,
His life was overall sunny, while
His victims quailed at his word.
He lorded it over his children,
He ruled their kids with ease,
A sullen look from beneath his brow
Would bring them to their knees,
His will was forever changing
As solicitors came and went,
One day he’d offer a mansion,
And another day, a tent.
When he finally died he was stony broke
And they wondered where it went,
He’d always been abstemious
But the money had been spent.
He left all their lives in ruins with
Their expectations gone,
A couple of ramshackle houses were
The only things they won.
There wasn’t the money to bury him
So they left him where he sat,
Up at the head of the table in
His black, beribboned hat,
He glared at them as he’d glared in life
One hand on the table-top,
Where he used to tap with his finger
As if it would never stop.
Tap-tap-tap on the table-top,
Tap-tap-tap it went,
His eyes bored into the back of your head
As if to say - Repent!
And people scurried, this way and that
To divine what the tartar meant,
The grim old man in his black top hat
Who ruled to their detriment.
They left him sat and they locked the door
Didn’t go back for a year,
Til the eldest, saying ‘let’s know for sure,’
Returned with a tinge of fear.
‘He might have stocks in his waistband there
Or shares hid under his shirt,
Or cash stuffed in his beribboned hat -
He treated us all like dirt!’
He ventured into the dining room
Where the grim old man still sat,
His eyes a-glare in the year long gloom
From under the brim of his hat.
But as the eldest approached him there
The finger began to tap,
A steady rap with a note of doom
That would curdle blood to sap.
So Toby dived to the tinder box
And he leapt up with the axe,
His face as pale as a ghostly tale
But determined to attack.
He raised the axe and he let it fall
Severed the finger there,
It skittered across the table top
As the old man fell from his chair.
The stocks were stuffed in the old man’s hat
The shares were stuffed in his sleeve,
And so much cash in his waistband that
They said, you wouldn’t believe.
But still he’s locked in that grey old house
For they found it wouldn’t stop,
That severed finger that skittered there
Still taps on the table-top!
David Lewis Paget
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 1:17 AM UTC
Your love overwhelms me,
you look over my scars,
never at them,
how caring,
and understanding you are,
you don't tell me to cover them,
like everyone before,
you simply say,
i will kiss every one,
and that means everything to me,
no one has ever cared enough,
to get to kow me,
the way you do,
nobodys ever loved me,
the way that you do,
and everyday,
i think God i have you.
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 4:36 PM UTC
_
I’m in love with you
And I don’t kow how to handle it.
All I know is that
I don’t want it to fade.
_
Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 6:14 PM UTC
He crows about his crowd size
For “winning” an election
While most of us experience
Democracy’s defection
donald knows no boundaries
His pants always on fire
Now numbers past 12 thousand
Show he’s a constant liar
Praising evil dictators
He thinks that we won’t notice
While kow-towing to putin
Our crazy shady potus
Earth’s life-supporting systems
Are collapsing day by day
Showing scorched Earth strategies
Daily through his EPA
Rolling regulations back
For Mother Earth’s protections
Defiling our National Parks
Drilling toxic injections
The Amazon is burning
Is any country helping?
The Earth is getting hotter
Too many glaciers melting
trump’s polluting our sandbox
Distracting us from the greed
In the frenzy of rollbacks…
his relentless Twitter feed
Maligning our Free Press
It’s clear for whom he’s rootin’
Eliminating sanctions
Against vladimir putin
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 4:26 PM UTC
dubious churning benevolent altruism
this anonymous beastie boy boilerplate endeavors:
(instagramming literary maven) questing user yawps
critically griping knowing personal tidbits xeroxed blithely,
freely jeopardized nuggets (revealed vital), zealously doled
heftily linkedin private treasure trove, (Xfiles breached
flagrant junction mandating righteous validating zero
divulgence heaves lamentable ploy, tellingly xing bald
felonious figurative joyriding, nonchalantly revealing
valuable (Ziegfeld bomb crackling) debacle, heralding
litigious proven, ****** basic foolhardy (Laurel) jack
knifed, networked, rapaciously villainous, zealously dubious,
horrendously lowball practices, thru (Cambridge Analytica)
xy zealots, asininely execrable, intolerantly malignant,
quintessentially ugly, yawningly dastardly, horrendously
lamentable, pathetically treasonous, xtra blameworthy,
fiendishly jawboning, mindlessly paradigm quaking,
unethical yahoo careless gross injustice jangling kow
towing, pleasing the Xmen, banefully Facebook friggin
jerky maliciously narcissistically opprobrious predacious
quisling underhandedly yo-yoing cello glomming kik off
preachiness spar!
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 2:08 AM UTC
I ripped the curtains
Off the window,
Tore the carpet
Off the floor,
I kow what I am looking for.
I emptied cupboards
And sideboards,
Cleaned out the basement,
Checked my stores,
I know what I am looking for.
I searched the attic
And the shed,
Was it all
Just in my head?
I hear you,
Feel you,
Know you're here;
I know what I am looking for.
Yet Poe's one word keeps haunting me:
Nevermore.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
Knowing this fact is one thing!
Being conscious of the judgement day
Is also another thing!
Be identified by your deeds and acts
Then you know you are refined
And the judgement day becomes a lifestyle
When you kow this
And it defines you, you know!
Our shadow doesn't leave
When there is reflection of light
Our deeds goes with us
Where ever we go
Let it reflect our light (Christ)
It is not over
Until the Lord says it's over
Judgement has already begin!!!
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 6:59 AM UTC