Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Austin Mosher Apr 2013
Magnolia Queen, Magnolia Queen
Launch one thousand ships
Oh, carry me back to the in-between
Magnolia Queen, Magnolia Queen

The shadows will dance, the shadows will dance
The fire burns hot
From the iron king cobra’s trance
The shadows will dance, the shadows will dance

Oh, carry me home, oh carry me home
Through the absinthe seas
Watching the watchman mumble and drone
Oh, carry me home, oh carry me home

Whittling the trees, whittling the trees
Planets do align
To the face of the Magnolia Queen
Oh, only to the Magnolia Queen
Louis Brown Jan 2011
Beneath the old magnolia tree
I used to hold you close to me
And there I carved upon that tree
That I loved you and you loved me

Beneath the white magnolia blooms
You cast a spell with your perfume
I believed those wooden words were true
Ingrained in hearts of me and you

But time wears out what boys engrave
Nothing's left of the love you gave
Except that old magnolia scar....
I wish our love had come so far

Yeah, I wish those words were still on track
Cause every spring I dream me back
To tender lips and sweet perfume
Beneath the white magnolia blooms

But time wears out what boys engrave
Nothing's left of the love you gave
Except that old magnolia tree
Reminding me.....reminding me......
Copyright Louis Brown
Liz McLaughlin  May 2013
Magnolia
Liz McLaughlin May 2013
the magnolia was a bit of a *******
(as far as trees can be *******)
and like very many other things—
like japanese candy from the Fugi Mart in Greenwich
                                      (across from the McDonald’s and next to
                                             the music shop where I got my viola)
and like pokemon cards and nintendo gaming systems
and like Avril Lavigne’s “Sk8er Boi” on a pink CD in a Hello Kitty radio
—that ******* of a magnolia was a distinctive taste
of the years I spent growing up in my house at the end of Wyndover Lane.

the ******* thing was almost perpetually in bloom.

it barged into both spring and autumn
(it didn’t give a **** about timing)
those pink and white spongy petals padding the ground
and at first you think it’s ******* beautiful
sitting in the crook of the trunk where it split into
                                                                two large
                                                       separate branches
tilting your chin back to catch a glimpse of blue between fat blossoms

then the petals start rotting
water-retentive little *******
and you can’t sweep ‘em away because they stick to the patio
brown clumps slipping under rubber soles
my dad lets loose a string of curses
and the magnolia shakes with laughter

I tried pressing the petals in a notebook once
while I was in that naturalist phase it seems all little girls go through
when you make fairy houses out of bark in the backyard
and put flowers between the pages of books because it feels
oh-so-much-more significant
than picking a pretty thing and showing it to mom

but the magnolia seeped through my spiral ring
and when I opened it up a month later they were dry tan papery things
not at all velveteen and rosy
and there were garish pink bloodstains all through the ten pages
on either side
magnolias don’t preserve well
except, honestly they do don’t they

then of course there’s that childhood tragedy that everyone has
when your dog got hit by some soccer mom’s suburban
or your teddy bear was lost in an airport
or maybe you just liked to cry because some things
were just really worth the tears at the time

but when I came home and found out they cut down my ******* ******* of a magnolia

I bawled

there wasn’t
even
a
stump.
Brynn Louise Apr 2014
I still remember that magnolia,
We found it walking down the street.
It was as beautiful as that day
And it hadn't even bloomed yet.
I still remember it

I remember the walk through the city.
Without a care,
As if we owned it,
In some ways, I think we did.
I still remember

I remember the looks we got,
You could tell what everyone thought-
That we were the sweetest couple
They'd seen in ages.
And we didn't bother to correct them,
It'd be too hard
And it'd break their hearts.
I still remember

I still remember that magnolia,
It was hanging off a branch-
I'd never seen a flower like it,
But you hadn't either.
So you grabbed it, and I kept it.
I still remember it

I remember how the sun was hot
My shoes were all wrong for that walk.
You wore a white t-shirt,
And I wore a tank top.
You paid and I told jokes.
We asked questions,
Almost as if we'd never met.
I can even name the song you played
On your iPod filled with albums.
I still remember

I remember how I tried not to cry
When we said our final goodbye.
We hugged more times than I can count.
And we smiled so we wouldn't fall apart.
I still remember

I still remember that magnolia,
It bloomed the very next day.
It filled my room with a magical scent,
It opened until it was larger than my face.
I researched until I discovered
That it was called magnolia.
I still remember it

And now it's years later,
Maybe two or three-
It's hard to keep track.
But magnolia is my favorite flower
aldo kraas Oct 2023
Magnolia tree
Is my favorite
Kind of tree
That my
Father had
Made for me
And I am also
Happy to own
A magnolia tree
The Magnolia tree
Is in full bloom
And when the
Magnolia tree
Blooms is a show
Of colors
I also love to see
My Magnolia tree
In full bloom
During the Spring
Yes unforgently
The blooms don’t
Last long
They are always falling
Off the branches
To the ground
And they also
Make a ****** mess
To clean up
Yes it is my job
To clean up my
Driveway and
Remove the dead
Flowers from the
Magnolia tree
That is in
My driveway
Yes father it is
A big job
But it has to be
Done by me
I place the dead
Flower from the
Magnolia tree into
A garden bag
When Thursday comes
It is garbage day
I place the garden bag
In to the  curve for pick up
aldo kraas  Sep 2023
Magnolia
aldo kraas Sep 2023
Magnolia
Is my favorite
Kind of tree
That my
Father had
Made for me
And I am also
Happy to own
A magnolia tree
The Magnolia tree
Is in full bloom
And when the
Magnolia tree
Blooms is a show
Of colors
I also love to see
My Magnolia tree
In full bloom
During the Spring
Yes unforgently
The blooms don’t
Last long
They are always falling
Off the branches
To the ground
And they also
Make a ****** mess
To clean up
Yes it is my job
To clean up my
Driveway and
Remove the dead
Flowers from the
Magnolia tree
That is in
My driveway
Yes father it is
A big job
But it has to be
Done by me
I place the dead
Flower from the
Magnolia tree into
A garden bag
When Thursday comes
It is garbage day
I place the garden bag
In to the  curve for pick up
Shaurya Pal  Jan 2014
Magnolia
Shaurya Pal Jan 2014
As I scarpered away, I could hear the voices,
echoing through the steel walls.
The cries, the vociferations, catching up to me,
couldn't fathom the escape, with a plan full of flaws.

Turning left, bending right,
running in circles, an endless plight.
The drug they induced,
pumping through my veins,
blocking my vision, severing the mains.
Don't know for how long,
I can put up this fight.

The sentinels advanced,
as fast and agile as they ever could be.
The alarm had rung more than once,
red lights poured all over the scene.

Needle in hand, dipped in ataractic,
who were they fooling, with that mild sedative?
I raced with every semblance of life I had,
couldn't survive this hell-hole.
Another day here would've driven me mad.

As the unexpected turn came,
I banged the door with the unknown name.
Fell face first, the momentum it carried me,
Scraped through the floor, stomach felt queasy.
Warm liquid oozed out of my nose,
dripping tardily as I rose,
the environment all but blurry.


Insanity Prevailed


As I blacked out,
I recalled how I came to be,
this house of horrors, delivered to me.
'Magnolia', home of the mentally challenged,
avowed 'care for the community'.

The head-shrink had advised,
you be safe, a feeling I imbibed.
A wry smile and that was it,
'Magnolia' She exclaimed,' would deem you fit.'

Believing in every word of hers,
I opened the door, welcomed
by the smell of fresh carcass,
the shabby floor with spots of dirt,
and people, oh lord the great unwashed,
like walking zombies, feelings inert.
They looked at me, some smiled and some laughed,
others cried, rest merely coughed.
So this is it, the house of the harebrained,
this was going to be my life,
Living among the insane.

I harbored no ill will,
But I couldn't absolve,
this feeling, inside me,
no friends no family, nothing normal.
Lasting with the un-dead,
my new destiny.

They filed me,
Gave a number, names were difficult to process,
66 it was, perfect, contributed  distress.
Admitted to my room, solitary for the neophyte,
'Morning' they said,' begins a new life.'

With a wicked smile they left me alone,
I was meek enough to cry, stiff enough to moan.
I wailed the whole night, the walls resonated,
the shrill of metal, the demons it encouraged.
The lights polished off, staring at the darkness,
all the monsters , the behemoth, dancing around me,
an invitation to their everlasting music.


Insanity Persisted


A specter bobbed up from the tiled floor,
gazed at me and pointed to the door.
'Rise, Awaken, my soul',
and the door opened with a loud crack,
'You must hurry, the guards will be back'.
I sat bolt upright, the apparition never lied.

Nose still bleeding, I took flight with haste,
looked back, they had dropped the chase.
It felt safe after a long time,
The world must know, of their wicked little crime.
They had to be stopped, the Doctor, the Nurse,
all of which were part of the crust,
which protected the whacko who experimented on us.

End of the hall, I noticed the Blue door,
It had to be the one, which will take me off-shore.
Head still paining, the doses that drained,
the vigor and strength, I couldn't sustain.
One last time, I had to draft
my will my power, from within.
To conjure up all my might,
before the shadows cave in.

As I drew nearer, towards the blue threshold.
I knew there was no looking back,  
nothing left to unfold.
I slowed down, one step at a time,
I could taste freedom, a taste so sublime.
My hand reached the door,
and gently turned the ****,
I pushed open the exit
and stared at the waiting mob.

Before I could assimilate,
with my failure and disappointment.
Someone jabbed a needle,
covering my mouth, crackling my vent.
Pushing me again, down the memory lane.


Insanity Pursued


The days were bad,
the nights equally worse.
A thin line existed between illusion and insanity,
indistinguishable they became, virtual and reality.
One could hear screams, begging for mercy,
Which the henchmen showed no sign of,
and continued to treat the already cured.

Those who betrayed, yearning exemption,
were treated with immense brutality.
Straightjackets, shackles and all sorts of gear,
were enough to put a man in psychotic fear.
The staff comprised barbarians and sadists.
Who lacked the basic sense of morality.

Shock therapy, voltage to its max,
bound and gagged, glued to the sacks.
The jolt of the lightning hitting them hard,
enough to churn up the flesh into lard.
They drugged the sufferer, the dupe would tranquil,
the fallout was horrible, it would make them frenzied.

For those beyond cure,
who lived for mere existence,
earned their own private, privileged experiment.
A special space, a hidden chamber,
well beyond, beneath the ground.
Defecated walls, layered flesh and blood,
****** fluids scattered,
in abundance, constituting a flood.
Human torture, vicious and cruel.

In a place so dark even the demons would fear,
how could I survive? This life to me was dear.
And the patients, the patients wouldn't help,
for them it was a game, live a day, reward for the next.
Some were quiet, lost in their own world,
speaking, whispering and talking to themselves.
Some looked sane, but stuck in paranoia,
for them the universe could any day cease to exist,
pertaining to their biggest phobia.
some were smart, they indulged in theories,
the real world mattered less to them.
And then there were the trigger-happy.
The truly maddened ones, violent with rage.
Every day was a battle, they fought within the cage.
They couldn't help me, for I wasn't crazy,
Just your usual guy, a victim of fate.

Magnolia was a place, where people ****** away their souls,
I wasn't ready to sell mine.
I had to escape, make an elaborate design.
There were no doctors at night, just the cruel handy-men,
had all the time in the world to formulate a plan,
question was, to execute when?

One night the attendant came,
wearing  a strange jumpsuit,
pen in breast-pocket,
woke me up and proclaimed, 'Get up you imbecile,
it's your turn in the lab today.
Stand up now, I ain't got all day!'
'HAH! You could try young man, to put me down,
but I ain't going to your lousy town'.
To this he smacked at my retort,
and laughed with a disgusting little snort.
'One more time you test my good nature,
and I swear to God I'll ruin your caricature.'
'Go ahead then give it your best shot,
You want me dead, do you not?'.
His laughter, this time, deafened the silence all around.
'You're dead fool! If it were up to me I'd skin you flesh and bone,
The amount of ruckus you create, the annoyance you hone,
But the good doctor has plans and once he's done with you..'
His unfinished sentence struck a nerve so strong,
my eyes rolled over,
what could possibly go wrong?

So the man with the strange jumpsuit,
dragged me all the way to the office.
The dimly lit room, ornamented a large crucifix.
Dear lord, you see how they mock?
Came back the degenerate with a big round lock.
'Oh yes, this is for you my friend,
chains aren't enough, straightjacket I will get.
Sit still you half-wit, else you'd regret'.
And I smiled and waited.
He returned as promised, with the piece of vestiary,
a twisted sense of humor, whoever built this monstrosity.

He stared where I looked, into his breast pocket.
'What's missing pal?' I asked in amusement.
He stopped everything and looked around.
With a motion so fast, it could only fly by,
gripping the pen, I poked him in the eye.
Ink exuded instead of blood,
the large man fell, loud with a thud.
The immense pain had him in shock,
now was the time for me to run amok.
But I kept focus, and ran for the door,
promised myself never to look back anymore.
Eloped with the only chance I foxed.


Insanity Reigned


The source of light was so strong,
I twitched a lot, just to see what's going on.
Caged in a room, no wait, a theatre!
****! I was so close to getting out.
The staff, I assume, were prepared all along.
Hatched a sinister plot, to show where I belong.
They had me now, tied to a work bench,
metal clasps around my wrist,
belted to the maximum limit.
For some odd reason they had me gagged,
the tape tasted foul, hygiene they lacked.
I wrestled my wrists with the wrought metal clamp.
But they were tight, wouldn't budge,
getting them off needed more than a nudge.

Alas the doctor came, with a frown upon his face,
With great ruefulness, he peeled off the tape.
'You caused us a great deal of trouble today.
None of our methods have impacted on you, what do you have to say?'
'Serves you right, you junk-less freak!' I was happy he was disappointed,
'That's not a very nice thing to say' responded the doctor, almost agitated.

He picked up an instrument,
a big long nail, the pointed end was so sharp,
I could feel it piercing through my brain.
Next he lifted a mallet,
which shone so bright it reflected upon my face.
To what devilish purpose could they serve?
The doctor took his time, and allowed me to observe.
He wore his mask, the mask of a surgeon,
at this time of the night? Surely he wasn't
planning to operate on me.
'Leave me alone, what are you doing?
Surely you know I'm not to be blamed, I don't belong here.
This is insane!'
'Wrong again 66, the society would never accept you.
You killed your wife and children, ******'s on you.'
It was at this moment the specter re-appeared, right behind the doctor.
Calling me, my name,
'They're all lying, you didn't **** anyone, they're framing you.'
'LIAR!' I spat at the doctor, 'You know she's is alive and waiting for me at the doorstep,
As always' I said.
'Yes she is waiting, but only at her death bed.'
'LIAR! You know my kids are sleeping peacefully at home!'
'Yes they are, but the sleep is eternal.'
'LIES! I can't **** a person,not even a fly!'
'And yet you poked my assistant right in the eye!'

The specter now appeared closer,
in a calming tone almost a whisper,
'Do not believe a word they said.
You're not a killer, just a victim of fate.'
Exactly, that's precisely what I meant.

With all the strength my voice box could muster,
I cried so hard the doctors ears could rupture.
' LIES! LIES! ALL LIES! You won't get away with this, the truth will come out.
Why would I ever **** them for crying out loud?'

'You're right, the truth shall come out, but not in this form, not from you.
66 has to die, a fact you always knew.'

No one dies today

'Hold him still.' The good doctor ordered.
A pair of hands inclined my head south,
Another pair, taped away my mouth.
I could hear music, a soft hum.
It had calmed me down ,that bass drum.
It kept beating at regular intervals.
The specter now, beside me,
placing her hand on my shoulders.
I looked up towards the sky, a light bulb
glowed right above my nose.
The doctor raised the nail,
a dot replaced the light source.
As the blot grew in size,
the light dimmed, luminance was minimized.
The music almost placid,
it made me smile, a smile so gentle.
The doctor enounced,
'This will only hurt a little.'
And as he struck, the spirit vanished,
the music stopped.


Insanity Triumphed
Part 2 of The 'Karma' trilogy
Whiskurz Nov 2012
I buried an angel on top of the hill
Under the magnolia tree
Her wings are long since silent
But she still means the world to me

The magnolia's flowers cover her grave
Decorated in majestic white
She said the scent was Heaven's perfume
And their smell was pure delight

I was married to this angel for forty-one years
Before Heaven called her away
I knew she had to leave this world
Even though I begged her to stay

I know that my loss is Heaven's gain
I guess they were one angel short
I know they wouldn't have taken her away
Unless it was their last resort

Sometimes when I start missing her
I can't wait 'til the magnolias bloom
We can sit and talk for hours
While smelling their sweet perfume

She said, "This is as close to Heaven
as anyone could ever be"
So I buried her on that hillside
Underneath the magnolia tree
SE Reimer Feb 2015
~

he sings to her
in floral bloom,
melodic language
all his own;
his magnolia
blossoms heralding
the rays of warmth,
his utterance to come.
its shyly spreading pink,
and softly budding green,
proof enough
to her aching heart
that winter's cold
cannot for long contain,
within its icy grip
any life that
from their union came.
for deep within
these roots,
yet he lives again
in breathing form;
that every year
til him she holds,
winter's loss
must yield to spring.

she beholds
this heralding;
as with slowly,
warming heart
she tilts her ear,
listening;
waiting for
this dearest voice.
for to her ears alone
and to her heart only
a rising medley,
tender melody,
a lullaby returned,
to her...
for her...
he begins
to sweetly sing,
unmistakably,
recognizably...
his magnolia lullaby.



.

~

post script.

*inspired by a dear friend's photo and accompanying caption...
"Logan's magnolia showing her first winter bloom."
a remembrance of her title bequeathed at his birth;
a reminder of his legacy that has not, will not ever end.
Timothy Ward  Sep 2017
Redux?
Timothy Ward Sep 2017
Louis Brown Jan 2011

The Old Magnolia Tree

Beneath the old magnolia tree
I used to hold you close to me
And there I carved upon that tree
That I loved you and you loved me

Beneath the white magnolia blooms
You cast a spell with your perfume
I believed those wooden words were true
Ingrained in hearts of me and you

But time wears out what boys engrave
Nothing's left of the love you gave
Except that old magnolia scar....
I wish our love had come so far

Yeah, I wish those words were still on track
Cause every spring I dream me back
To tender lips and sweet perfume
Beneath the white magnolia blooms

But time wears out what boys engrave
Nothing's left of the love you gave
Except that old magnolia tree
Reminding me.....reminding me......
Copyright Louis Brown
------

This was a poem I wrote to honor Mr Brown whom I sadly never got to know but was a brilliant poet on HP!
Miss his verse...

Ode To Mr. Louis Brown

We wish we knew you Mr Brown

The lights glow dim in Poetry Town

We stand beside Magnolia trees

And pray your soul is fancy free



I read your verse with teary eyes

And hope that I can be as wise

You were a gentle soul of song

The joy you brought is just as strong 



I'm glad your verse you did not brave
Upon Magnolias to engrave

Your words of wit are safe with me

For Poetry Town is your tree!



Unlike that old Magnolia tree

Poetry Town is full of spree

She was a fool to lose your crown

But we'll always love you Mr. Brown!
Mr Louis Brown has a phenomenal body of work on HP and plz visit his collection if you're searching for poets to read. He has great meter verse and rhyme in his poetry given that he was an accomplished songwriter as well.
Larry B Apr 2010
I buried an angel, on top of the hill
Under the magnolia tree
Her wings are long since silent
But she still means the world to me

The magnolia's flowers, cover her grave
Decorated in majestic white
She said the scent was Heaven's perfume
And their smell was pure delight

I was married to this angel for 41 years
Before Heaven called her away
I knew she had to leave this world
Even tho I begged her to stay

I know that my loss, is Heaven's gain
I guess they were one angel short
I know they wouldn't have taken her
Unless it was the last resort

Sometimes when I start missing her
I can't wait til the magnolias bloom
We can sit and talk for hours
While smelling their sweet perfume

She said this is as close to Heaven
As anyone could ever be
So I buried her on the hillside
Under that magnolia tree
Ayeshah Jul 2010
Magnolia's and black Roses
comfort me,
I lay awake as you
softly
breath low lower- fading-

wondering how
I've let you get into
my thoughts & now
once more into my bed...

tonight
I've come awake at the
touch of
your hand,
roughly you've penetrated
the core of my being...

softly a breeze stirs
from my cracked window
and the smell
waffled with your scent
lingers in this bedroom,

Black roses & sweet magnolia's...

I looked over your body too many times

Your eyelashes
I've counted each curly
one a million times,

those high check bones
I've touched & caressed until my hands went numb.

You never move and I hardly breath
thinking it's not right but Ok-
Oh how you danced
with in my Vally of seduction
and
become intoxicated  
as you dranked in my nectar- honeycomb.

I wanted you- I wanted this moment ,
I did want to love you and
in a lot of ways I do but
laying here now as I stare at your form

lifeless on my bed I feel it wasn't
just your misleading
pain & your lying games
that brought me to the breaking point...

It was the man
I finally saw who told me once..,

I am worth more!

tears of freedom
streams down my face as
I lay here watching you,

watching the slight breeze from
my cracked window shifts
the thousands of petals all around
you & all
I can do is cry with
a
simple smile on my face.

My rooms filled with the smell
of you
&
Magnolia's & Black Roses.

Always Me Ayeshah
Copyright © Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved

— The End —