Where the grasses magically pirouette , where Spanish Moss dances . The illusion of Oaks kissing the land off in the distance ..
As leaves rejoice and sprint green fields in search of home , sweet gum cones shine like silver dollars ..
Studious farm animals graze upon endless fodder , Pekin ducks
imbibe indigo blue waters ..
Where the Sun caresses the back of my neck and shoulders , where my
Grandfather waves , reading Whitman from his porch ..
White Turkeys brighten the rural horizon , the scent of homegrown tomatoes tickles my nose , the allure of honeysuckle fence line and prickly , white Cherokee rose ..

In the name of remarkable stories revealed with each precious leaf , brush stroked layered , hallowed Marigold evenings ..  Every ambient , salutatory stand of communicative , native tree ...   To the toasty breeze spurring the music of Mother Earth within the guarded canopy
The preordained navigation of Warbler , Grasshopper and Bumblebee
For every cloud seeking finality guised in plummeting rain
The call of Pheasant across the chilled late October plain* ....

Walk outside , aim that Marshal
stack in the direction of City Hall
and grind a power chord like nobody's
ever heard before , send the birds flying
for cover , rattle the windows on every
street corner
Hit the high E string at the 22nd fret
and let it feedback like the world is about to
end* ...

Madrigals of March
echo throughout the Port lake backcountry
with river dancer vibrations , lapping waters ,
sashaying marsh grass along her fertile shore
Uplands of live oak , elm , birch and sycamore
Shadows of raptors and herons alight brown pasture in
evening performances , evergreen seedlings helicopter
into the unknown , bass note bullfrogs , light breezes
chaperone a gaggle of redwing blackbirds bound for
sweet home* ...

Unchecked religious theory assumes the form of an economical meal from which lunacy devours freely and selfishly ..

RANDOLPH LLEWELLYN WILSON


                     ******* !



Born-March 16 , 1963 
Died - ___

It's a beautiful day to window shop in McDonough
Saturday is a great day to be seen in this old town
The park benches inside her city square honor fallen heroes
from another time....
Water oaks and flowers line the streets
Geranium festival in Springtime and the smell of boiled peanuts
Music in the park on weekends...
The likeness of Pat Henry himself
Lays watch on this town after hours...
Church bells still ring in this old town on Sunday ...
While the railroad divides her from North to South to this day
She's a southern lady with all her charm and baggage not unlike
any other Georgia town.
Yet Saturday is still a great day to be seen in this old town.......

Home of stinking breath , bat **** rides filthy air
Refusing to hearken , aluminum -
beer cans crushed , pitched into full -
trash receptacles , father the vagrant -
pining for replenishment , mother -
the receptionist trying to feed fearful -
children
Just build a 'Still' in your ******* room and drown in the copper kettle
Drunken men emulating the Phoenix , may your plume of smoke -
travel faraway from your children , may they attain the mettle
to lead normal lives , close your disaster like a ridiculous book ,
shelve your selfishness and the toll it took* ....

Matted hair and repugnant
With a confusing stench , opinionated ,
with words of malevolence toward government
and the manipulative ways of man
Wounded in the shadows with
a laptop , consoling the inner-me
Writing riddles on and for the enemy
The relentless answering machine , the
ceiling fan revolving in six eight time ,
F major dial tones , tapping , vehicles , jet discordance* ..

A powder blue epiphany of -
cumulus figurines , dancing conifers -
and copious sun-showers
Roadsides teeming with daffodil ,
dogwood and wildflower
Burnt orange dusk , southbound -
waterbirds , violet vallies and -
silvered hillsides
Noble oaks brimmed with -
vociferous crows , jays and -
blackbirds
Wind driven brown grass disappearing -
into the western horizon
Village bells
Distant afternoon fires
Roosters calling for the day to close
The clang of Angus and Brahma coming home
Stars mingling with earthen shadow ...

Understandings latent compression ...
Melancholy's nightly quietus episode deflection ...
Brown eyes insistent upon the awe , tranquility of star shine ,
an empty expanse withholding infinite reminiscences ..

With due admiration , and peaceful contemplation , rediscover your portion of Earth in meditative resolve , your heartbeat in metronomic cue with each gust of wind , nostrils filled with the pure love of creation . Poetry , music and color transformed into audible serenity , the spoken word caress of woodland hands will resonate and envelope the very machinations of your creative soul . Caressing your face , blue whispers of parallel life continuance , yellow songbirds shall attune the warmth from a loving star ..
Let Eros complete every sentence , answer every question , color the natural world before you and direct every step .
Troubled sleep , insidious dreams and anger placed in permanent repository , transformed into prudent fruit ripened cautiously on the vine .

The flower of a sunflower was cut then thrown
into the police line
It became a weapon
A croquet ball was transformed into a sacred
orb by a new religion
A spool of thread fell off a bridge , struck a windshield causing
the driver to brake which prevented the automobile
from crashing into a school bus
The spool is now a hero
The perfect pine needle broke it's mooring and floated to the driveway
An old man slipped when his slick bottomed dress shoe
met the needle
His hip broke , his physicality slowly degraded then he died
The needle became a villain* ..

Torch recognized fear from a hundred yards
The first inkling of panic would make him charge
I can still see him chasing my Dad across the grassy avenue
Mean old Torch is now a bucket of glue* ...

Beautiful Whitetail bucks , resplendent in Winter coats , statuesque along the hillside , ever alert in morning fog , complacent in the heavy cover of the Georgia woodlands , courteously striking a pose at Dusk , quite aloof in my own front yard ..
A crown prince of the ruminant kingdom at the edge of suburbia , revealing their breath on cold Winter mornings , leaving their signatures with rub marks and snorts ..
Commanding the fields of Spring and Summer , gorging themselves on brown oats , green grass , blackberry , fig and wild plums ..
Our wondrous native 'Knights of Hill Country' , panning green , picturesque pastures at the close of day ,  grazing for edibles along quiet country lanes , peacefully bedding beside creekside , Sun warmed hayfield , placid pond and mirrored lake ..Along Moon lit valley's , apple orchards and fire breaks ..

A weasel will commit a massacre within the henhouse as sure as a politicians tongue will wag without respite , be it attached or severed !

Why must we attempt the interpretation of another's song , our minds are filled with unique music if we would just let go , let the heart play along , let the soul solo , let harmony free fall* ...

Plight of domestic animal on city streets ....Volunteer nightshades that germinate in Fall , wild rose bushes , strawberry plants growing in Summer on mountaintops ...Ice clinging to Pear trees after a Winter storm in late March ...Diseased Willow tree racked by howling ocean winds on the seashore...Man and woman both young and old , succumbing to the gentle allure , raging fire and finality of Relationship , Life and Love .....

Spiritual , cobblestone paths beside
familiar afternoon tapestries of lavender
blue , Wisteria Wrens proclaim hope ,
Orb Weavers balloon warm currents
with mysterious loom , June Pecan groves
sash-shay in the song of Dusk , evening
Crows bide Sycamore perches , bringing
a June day to close* ....

Envision the "Sylvan Lane" for all the wonder it contains ..
For every timeless portrait within Nature's Opus , bring each grain of
sand to perfect focus ...
Every critical dab of color on Monarch butterfly wing , each harmonic progression the Chickadee may sing ..
For the wonders of a mighty Oak , step closer and review each
layer of bark , count the scented Pine cones strewn about the yard ....
Place a gentle hand on the moss covered stones , number every
mushroom on a 'Hollow Log' ...
Witness the blue collar Bumblebee working ******* every flower ..
Ruby throated Hummingbirds , very busy creatures indeed , hour after hour ..

The Dogwoods bloom in the name of Nellie ..
Anointed with Spring flowers .. Gardenia , Sunflower and Crape Myrtle ..
Whispering hymns , tolling the farm bell , calling her children home ...

And like the vibrant day all instruments of passion run their due course ..

She can be found from Valdosta to the Tennessee border , indigenous to both rural and metropolitan areas of the Empire State , discovered in the late 50's as the capital city of Atlanta exploded with new development .As Georgia Pines , Chestnut and Oak trees were cut at random to make way for roadways and development this familiar lady could be seen all across the metro and eventually worked it's way along all major highways and interstates and has thrived ever since ,  growing in huge numbers each year ! She is now the unofficial State Tree of Georgia ! We call her the Orange Construction Barrel ! Not to be confused with her smaller cousin the traffic cone !!

Along Peachstone Shoals
Morgan horses have seized the first light -
of the spring morning
Wild Turkeys call in unison , scratch -
hurriedly along wild rose , bramble berry -
camouflage
A stoic Whitetail Buck crosses the shallows ,
disappears into hardwood spring shelter
Fog steadily burns along the holler as red winged -
blackbirds gather for the noon feast o'er purple clover
passageways , tinted with silver-gray ballooning -
spiderlings , moistened by the warm breath of the -
promising new day harvest
Farm tractors scurry county roads in route to -
awaiting plowland , Longhorn cattle vie for the sunny
hillside ..

It's ten o'clock , I was just wondering how you are tonight ?
The train has left Palmetto , on the way South on this rain ravaged night .. Sequestered heavenly lights , poetic blue stars should navigate each pull of the lost Moon at high tide , and I'm left wondering where you are tonight ?
Aluminum tint forest on my left and right , siren song of whippoorwill ,
the erstwhile cat's paw message of intercession , a belated cry as to her plight , still left to wonder how you are tonight ? ..
http://hellopoetry.com/nicole-dawn/

The enchanting Moon over my Hill Country .. The poetic Moon over the world  .. I pray the Moon you see this evening is over a peaceful , affectionate portion of our fragile Earth ..  Goodnight ...

Love becomes the ******* child of collusion , empty rooms scream , episodic trips to the window of the normal world
Arms that contain heightened emotion
Enter every bad day , hurt -
dilated wave of ****** naked admission
in the cold , laughter at the ugly middle child
going nowhere , useless musical jobless freak
A pillow to put our heads upon , rusted steel to scrape
the dog **** off , a servant to perform the will of family
when their 'laborious' day is done
The über Christian brother , the spiteful mother
The hateful sister , the self shot dead father
Thinking continues
Panic ensues , the pills go down , the lights go out
The accepting bed understands
Sleep , the fair weather friend of absolution* ..

Bring the blackness into this tiny house
Coat the walls like paint
Stir it round and round
**** lights reflection , dampen all -
of creation
Drown the confusion within-
my mind , bring unwanted voices -
to a screeching grind
Smother this room in darkness
Drown those that would intimidate ,
torture and offend
Mute their screams , shadow the seedlings -
of satanic ambiguity
Overwhelm charlatans that seek the light
Crown the weak in the protection -
of night* ...

Fall afternoons are colored with black charcoal
on gray canvas with orange marmalade moons
Red tail lights divide the young night
Cool ceiling fan revolutions , artificial porch lights , well water and
tangerines , steady poetic resolve , security bulb luminosity
My religion stands ready , a plectrum , four forty tune , a chorus
has proposed marriage to its verse
Day is such a betrayer
I long for the night where I flourish* ...

Color the Wood Ducks skating the waters with
any shade that comes to mind
Imagine the River Birch mindful of the stream
in any shape you like
Paint the late Summer night with watercolors
as yet unknown
Call the wonders of the world before you as if they
were your very own* .....

In countless states of mind I have sought your indulgence ...
Supplications before all others , therefore this graphic acknowledgement before The Keeper of Jahaanam . Barren dogwoods stand guard at the gravel trail , my altruistic reservations , mindful of winged demons along the way .. Twilights confusion seeking redress , placate mortal dishonor before all men , lead my staff into solace , repair a broken mans sinful impropriety , sanctity of numerous hardscrabble days , are hast thou forgotten ? The vilification of fools , fable before kings , a rivers confluence and ablution along granite enclosure ?
A deployment of demons creep o'er the mount soldier , merciless and
begging , damnable .. Unforgiving ..
Pandemonium reeks of sulphuric intimidation , Hades treads his kingdom cunningly .. Radiative embers flow into pools of methane , all manner
of lunacy and devils at his feet , corruption billowing from his every breath ...
Archangels deploy at the portal , even cries for mercy are not allowed their freedom and salvation . As seven days go by even as the downward spiral grows before my very eyes  ,  Beelzebub's confusion laid before me ! Please charlatan my ****** hands will not come clean so allow me the time to relay the sentiments that keep me awake at the midnight hour , when chariots flys overhead at great speed and the dogs inch closer to my bedside , my disease , it's breaking my heart rendering my soul defiled ..
My ***** stained linen , unshaven idiot that I've become with rotted teeth and insecurity . I see the smiles , hear the snickers and read the whims of Satan's entities that stand inside my mirror on a meeting by chance held by one hand while slicing at my wrist with the other.. I feel you Lucifer so my fate you seal .  I hear you Jesus an know the burden you deal ! They call him the lighthouse so make my supplication you ******* child of darkness that quivers long into the night in self induced agony ....!

Water has her own unique melody
A driver commands the tire
The wheel attempts to tame the road
Colorless autos split the air
The trees whistle
Flowerbeds sway
Leaves reveal the invisible ghost
Becoming one .. Rise and sash shay ...
Mother Natures explosions become an -
unwanted guest
Windows are beacons
Signals at the will of the wind
Silver angels overhead
A column of chariots
Red dots
Yellow pulses
Drug fueled schemes
Demonic scenes
Recurring dreams ....

Cold beer fills a chilled mug
The crackle of tobacco , the creak
of a rocker , the croon of crickets ,
Alabamas distant thunder* ...

Deer run in brown grass , water bugs strike
the porch light , cars hum along the distant highway ,
cicadas foretell the shroud of night ...

Clocks become amplified , ceiling fans -
tickle door chimes
Drab curtains brush plastered walls , dry
corn fields trill , crackle and moan

The final slurp of Michelob as -
someones trash crawls down a forgotten country road ...

Cool April night deception
Rickety , southern hamlets become -
moonlit Chamber of Commerce photos ,
cornfields turn into backdrops for -
science fiction TV shows
Townsfolk walking to their mailboxes -
become rumors of mystery and intrigue
Old Bloodhound porch dogs are as sleepy as ever
Shooting stars zoom overhead , the last train of the
evening flies by , the whippoorwills lullaby
All is quite normal , and well tonight ...

Before the pills kick in I'd just like to say , your work grows more beautiful with each passing day ! Love and laughter , myriad topics , bearing your soul once more , poet and poetess ! Good night folks !!

Let the Earth receive the music -
of the lonesome eve calling , sung before cranberry ,
fuchsia , Monet renditions of sundown ,
before crystal garland evergreens , Hickory
tinsel , alabaster hillsides from the mortarboard
of 'Divine Creation' , odiferous rosin cementing
the grandeur of distant dark Sugar and White Pine
The conviviality of countless starlight from dew
wetted plain o'er boundless ****** night* ...

Quell nighttimes candle with a pewter snuffer
Snuggle 'neath the darkened , blue quilt of the coming Dusk
For Dreams fall like snowflakes , Sleep , a beautiful landscape , Wishes are white stars that flower our horizon , Love , a cranberry -blue twilight sailing the galaxy , Tomorrow , morning Sun in the blink of an eye , Today is the wind that flurries the dandelions* ...

Old , hollowed-out freight cars going north-
have their own distinct sound
These late night trains barreling through-
Palmetto can be heard for many a mile
You can hear those big empty boxes dancing-
on the track without a load to weigh 'em
down
I can recognize full railcars headed south to New-
Orleans in the early pre-dawn hour ..

Vermin filled street lamps , gust borne shadows flicker in the artificial yellow night , a conflagration emerges over western skies
Evening hounds cower and lie mute , wind chimes trickle
to the steady clap of tin roofing
The lightning strikes to the clamor of the cooling earth ,
avenues grow reflective , ancient trees at the whim of
Spring eve ferocity
Boulevards turn to streams , the cloudburst wains , steam
rolls the south side circuitry in search of the fearful , hidden Moon

The flare of the squall lit up the night ..
Wind chimes filled the 'prequel to ferocity' with eerie song .
Insects gathered on window screens , blown in with the storm ..
Streetlights quivered , Grandaddy oaks began to sway
Rain beat the windows , night lights flickered then it was over in an instant .. Washed the tiny town momentarily and quietly went away ...
The house refreshed quickly and the Man on the Moon reappeared to keep watch over his piece of the world ... A happy return to the cool pillow , a dream away from Dawn ...

Wood floors make a parlor guitar come alive ..
Songs of contrition & lost love ..
Scotch , saltines , cigarettes & oil ..
A slow train to some southerly destination mimics-
an elder musicians pain & toil ..
Harlequins , false prophets & shamans -
troll my midnight thoughts ..
Drown them in music
Hold them under the water till the bubbles-
cease ..
Eliminate them by any means ..
Cleanse the hallways of my brain-
with a blues progression in the 'Key of E '...

hardwoods reduced to naked indignation -                                        
blackbirds voice their mathematical equations
field smoke bound for the dusken diamonds of autumn ..
dove mourn the close of day ..
the crackling corn ..
Septembers hay ..
a locomotive bound for Montgomery ..
ash enroute to the moon ..

Cicadas pizzicato their magical violins
in sweet , whirling summer serenade
Field Crickets staccato their beautiful cellos
from the pink Dogwood Trees , Killdeer
swoon to the music of June , Mayflies tango
by the light of the Moon

Could someone please reach up an unscrew the moon
Hush the curs and the coyotes , the 'werewolves' and the
loons  ..                                                    ­                                                         Blackout the neighbors , the katydids and wildcats , the rabble and the riffraff
Will you please hide the bulb and let a poor man nap* ...

Lantern flies descending from Water Oak canopies , hopeful Thrushes cry for Heavens hidden stellary
A seemingly placid pond becomes Molasses , quivers and grows eerie in wavering moonshine , Whippoorwills relay songs of the Creek Indian nighttime
Katydids , Field Crickets and Barn Owls fill Magnolia , Wilkerson Mill promenades , Shellcracker disquiet the countryside with topwater
explosions of hunger and predation* ...

The living room clock pounds like -
the framers hammer
The wood floor becomes an unintelligible -
ghost
The nostrils of a rail engine sojourner begin -
to shriek and moan , Alabama breezes rattle -
the chimes , the one o'clock tolling of the
town bell , the cries of the whippers , the thrush -
and the barn owl
Laden , eighteen wheelers thunder down the -
rural roads
Black and tans implore the Planters moon to -
'move along' , every crawling creature engaged-
in buzzing 'night song
June bugs tapping the windows , keeping -
time in the early morning crescendo ....

True as the oceanside bonfires ..
Embers that parlay their very existence ,
at mercy of Poseidon's petulant expanse ..
Gale-borne , maritime id ...
Devout seafarers in perpetual , celestial
navigation ..

O Orion ,
shoot an arrow across-
the night
Send my wish into midnight flight
Into starlit scenes , across bucolic , moonlit dreams* ...

How do I explain my ailment .. This ******* memory that haunts me in bed each night .. I've grown tired impressing definitions upon the satellites of my empty world .. Loneliness , a demon on Saturday .. A blessing on Monday .. Allergic to my kind , In darkness I commune , bereft of Sunlight ...

Food lacking taste ,
bland piles of paste
Steaming mounds of dead -
animals and plants served -
on a porcelain platter
Painstakingly hand stitched serviettes , glowing candelabras and chandeliers
A fork for this , a spoon for that
Silver ladles and oak tables
Sharp knives , brass covers ,
spatulas and carafes
A prayer before the vanquished are -
consumed followed by the highly
choreographed dance of the plates
The dinner ballet begins
Utensils clinging , bowls clanging -
Ice cubes striking glass
The music of the feast , the consumption
of the beast
Blood collecting in the corners of -
the mouth
King Protein controls the conflagration -
of gluttony like the conductor leads -
his orchestra
Voracious ramblings
Pining for more and more* ....