"palmetto" poems
Bellowing trumpets call the palace to order and servants,
Dressed from head to toe in exquisite lace,
Promptly wave their lush palmetto leaves while the Pharaoh
Ambles domineeringly down the marble corridor.
Though the floor rattles at the cries of enemy soldiers
Penetrating the once impregnable palace walls,
The mighty Cleopatra, exuberant in both beauty and intelligence,
Maintains a powerful, dignified forbearance.
Immune to cowardly apprehension petrifying those surrounding her,
The Pharaoh relies on only her brooding heart to guide her.
Though her once opulent eyes scorch in melancholy,
They look onward toward the cynosure of her existence.
Clad in dense armor, Mark Antony clasps his sword resiliently,
Pacing nervously back and forth throughout his room
At the thought of the danger soon to overtake him.
His breath hangs heavy on the seaside air.
Antony’s complexion brightens at the sight of alluring lover,
And he releases his guard, opening his arms as she approaches.
Shouting erupts from the neighboring corridor
Though neither he nor Cleopatra discern the enveloping chaos.
As Roman soldiers zealously round the corner and overtake the lovers,
Waving their weapons high in hopes of slaughter,
The couple’s lips merge together as one,
Producing an everlasting bond that no sword could sever.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
How I love the sweet, spherical summer fruit
Orange and oval shaped, dangling from trees to suit
Me too lazy to scout up and down neighborhood streets
To steal orphaned members, take home as a treat
A friend calls offering me bounty galore
Come get them from her house, she lives by the shore
Swerving down one-way streets, trapped by dead ends
I won't give up, she is a generous friend
A half-filled box laden with goodies
Could I have more to share with my hoodies?
Through torrential rain, the aromatic fruit in my car
I must make it home, it isn't that far
Once home the box is cumbersome to bring inside
Though my arms ache, I carry them with pride
Anticipation of smiles from my family for me
This wondrous surprise, I can't wait for them to see
Suddenly a huge brown Palmetto bug nestled in the box
Runs out and scoots under my chair like a fox
I miss smashing it with the nearest towel
Should I tell them of the intruder and make them scowl?
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
The punctual , eleven forty southbound train whistle's through our hometown of Palmetto ! Please tell the good folks of Montgomery , Mobile and New Orleans that I said hello !
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
*
Melodious tides serenade along a foam dipped coast line,
we drift as a single composed symphony,
seduced by a pounding surf, its sensuous rhythm pulsates
flooding our hearts, aching to collide
in the tempo of a lone torrent’s embrace
Scorching August passions seize the moonlit sand,
palm tree shadows dance atop sultry weathered dunes
of lemongrass and saw palmetto,
on saltwater breezes moaning our names, mellifluously
from a distant cantata's horizon
Warm dark *** skin intoxicates, I stagger,
lost in hypnotic topaz eyes, reflective pleadings
of deeper desires sought, fingertips probe sun softened locks,
nightshade tresses, mingling with a rippled surf
as stardust illumines moist swollen lips, parted
Harmonic waves wash atop entwined silhouettes
nearing a crescendo, a pinnacle of pleasure,
where secrets are revealed in half swallowed sighs
on this coastal haven when voices sing in
throaty whispers of impassioned ecstasy
Now as heated breaths hover beneath the moon’s glowing stare
we too build and recede, feeding our amorous desires
as the fading night relinquishes its hold and dawn cracks the sky
Our tide becomes one, our union remains unbroken,
our love, eternally bound by the melody of the sea*
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 7:03 PM UTC
You once lay with me under a blanket of sun
and held me in your hands. The texture of my
fine debris slipping through the crevices of
your fingers and toes.
You built me a kingdom by the seashore:
castles with towers for guards to keep watch
and dried up moats surrounding the landscape
of a desert.
Sea armies of adolescents would attempt to
conquer my walls but crustaceans armed with
a pair of Archimede’s claws would defend my
kingdom from such intruders.
But as the suns bulb became dim and burnt
out, the great big blue took over covering me
inch by great inch. My towers began to crumble
down, depleting all of my army and all of my castles.
You left me here for the ocean to take, but a little
piece of me snuck its way into your bag, towels,
hair, and shoes. And just like the ocean, you will
eventually wash me away as well.
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 11:19 AM UTC
*The barren sidewalks of Palmetto ,
yesterdays shoppes in boarded disarray ,
hushed avenues , empty Water Oak parks ..
Creosote treated railroad ties fill Spring air
currents , Friday afternoon capability shattered ..
Windblown , meager paper evidence collects at
curbside , this abandoned village , forever reduced to a four way stop on Sunday nights* ..
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
Every summer is a girl.
The loud walk on the concrete melancholy.
Street sweepers, sweat and eyes meet the lap top.
Panhandlers lay into persona
And I greet a smile with a dead president.
Virginia, she knows me.
And that’s what happens when we write and I listen to music.
The summer girl shows up.
Palmetto bugs screech, fire flies love my eyes
Then the sun preaches brown skin.
Virginia, she knows me.
Blue ***** fall in a basket waiting for the old bay’s season.
Family crowds around the television waiting for the next movie
I’ve written and we eat on news papers.
Washington never drained the Dismal Swamp.
Virginia, she knows me.
Then Kate the summer girl walks by.
Kicking wet sand staring past the dream.
I build landscapes to not catch I’s.
Simply amazed at what is said with out words of dread.
Virginia, she knows me.
There is so much here
We cant believe how much.
Toes wiggle on mutton feet in the sand
And she tells me about Hanovarians.
Virginia, she knows me.
Pressing my face on the day
Finding her hair taken by the wind.
I lay into a wave and the heat leaves.
She cant breath her breath taken away.
Virginia, she knows me.
My day laughs when she says I’ve got go back to
Richmond.
Mom finds the umbrella and we go for a walk.
Then she asks without thinking if she lived for this day.
Virginia, she knows me.
Tourists trample sand and find chocolate icecream
To cool. Locals forty second street and I in the middle
For freedom. She has a way with men and a walk.
She loves me and knows this not.
Virginia, she loves me.
Bulbs break into stalks flowers bloom
For summer time and my summer girl.
Kate is her name and Virginia, she knows me.
This man will miss the summer and his girl.
She loves me Virginia.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 2:23 AM UTC
*Mimosa elders obscure the pink Azalea hillsides , timid Catbirds performing at behest of daybreak , vociferous followers of humid June traipse glistening Canola fields , swirling secrets of country brooks revealed in man-made clearings , Robin mothers boast of endearing Summer
privilege , of Jasmine , Sugar Pine , Cattail tranquil late morning backdrops with whispering Hill Country breezes* ......
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 9:15 PM UTC
Cold , clear creek water hitchhiked from Alabama , caught a thunderstorm
just the other side of Anniston ..
It rode into Palmetto at the stroke of midnight , jumped off a wall cloud and hit the ground running !
Straight down Main Street taking everything it could carry .. Pine straw , old newspapers , bubble gum wrappers ! Oak leaves , bottle caps and fast food napkins !
The storm came and went , city life returned to normal , a hundred gallons of well travelled transpired water now has it's eyes set on the city of Savannah ..
It'll bide it's time in the heat of Palmetto , laying in a storm sewer waiting to be called skyward ... A one way ticket on the 'Evaporation Express' ,
riding within an eastbound thunderstorm , dropping in on another little city to clean and cool the street , meet at the bottom of a hill to start the journey all over again ..
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 1:07 PM UTC
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/
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
I gave into it ,
put down my fighting knife
and succumbed to it.
Like a fallen Palmetto
to the untamed selfish sea,
I fell into it.
Found myself weightless
and dry of tears,
relived of the rush
of the heart.
Veins thick with the
Poppies warmth.
Slack faced towards the heavens
in search of something more.
Saw her face made up of
unnamed stars and canceled out
all other constellations.
It took hold of me,
like the mouth of the wolf
it devoured me.
I was open and couldn't
deny.
That there was nothing of this blood
ruled earth to compare with the beauty
of a star dressed night .
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC
Listen to his dreams,
impetuous heart beats
distal, two
a conundrum
like melodies in the palms,
whimsical Winds,
Whistle
Whiskey;
he'll always succumb.
Pull his tongue,
implore for a
chore
imaginations can't refuse
consequently this wrist,
it's always
A twist
beneath a Palmetto moon
dance a blind man's muse.
Pick his brain
humble he mumble;
stumbled
weak in the knees.
An Athens meadow
undulation in her hair
flowers Blossom,
Buzz
Bees;
Aphrodite he discern
winsome dimples,
he envies.
Palate his promises
swallow his Last Word
top shelf spirits
and lie-bations
heckling *****
Buzz
Blues;
veracious blue eyes
drunk love,
she accuse.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 12:44 PM UTC
Siren screaming warning
fading away i'm happy
to be alive but the thorns
hurt sometimes like fire ants
in Florida with Palmetto bugs
just really big cockroaches in
Hawaii they are pets and even bigger
like the native gals be gentle baby
doll one eighty five going up
and up to the stars the dreams
of children touch god come from god
are god triune stabbing this that is
in the **** to cause movement
is conscious something or other
soft green leaves with sharp edges
flying liquid rock globs on the mountain
black black black ocean deep
wish i could go there in my mind
but for real they play for money
and we pay and pay and pay and wonder
who's the boss believe it or not
no one is is to scary for some
to accept and i'm writing expository but
where are the images well i'm on my way
to find out hope i get there i know
i'm going to enjoy the journey
free i i i i i
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
The thunder of freight cars traveling through Palmetto , heading North to Atlanta at the five o'clock hour . A silver contrail underscores Venus , jet airplanes in every direction . Golden Pines as far as the eye can see , stately Oaks , steely Pecans and ravishing Maples .. A frozen Buck at the wood line surveys his next move , the last remaining geese reveal their presence , then bid adieu .. They travel South tonight by the light of a mischievous Moon at tree top level , off to points South beneath the Western horizon ...
Whippoorwills begin their familiar call , a Barn owl takes the stage with its haunting song ..
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 6:05 PM UTC
In and old abandoned corn shed
Where men calve lumps of stone
Sitting in some old abandoned corner
Young Johnny sits all alone
See Johnny's wife, she left him
For some Sacramento stud
Now his tears they hit the corn shed floor
While the stones wash in his blood
In a down town whisky bar
Where the drinks will bring you down
Make you feel like you've won the fight
But there's no one else around
Sit's a beautiful woman who has no place to go
But a thousand down town men that want to take her home
But a village by the name of Palmetto
Where the lanes are named the same
Lived beautiful young Louisa
Who made my heart beat lame
And for all the worlds riches now seem worthless
Like nothing could ever rise above this
But when she stands there waiting with those shot-gun lips
My eyes they travel from her jawbone to her hips
She asks me to come in and make a sacrifice
Leave my heart on the doorstep to paradise
Soft kisses in the night, softly and with such despair in those eyes
whispers stay here with me tonight, stay with me at least until sunrise
So i carry the cross of David
For all those worshipers tonight
For all the children with no food to share
or those who've just lost sight
As we walk up those stairs i made a promise to keep her safe
Now i'm covered in her beauty but simply lost in all of her faith
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 4:47 PM UTC
Red tip shrubs are reflecting intermittent sunshine across puddles of water in the yard , pine cones , straw covers the ground beneath the trees . Steam coming off the road , cars crashing into standing water , garden soaked , eggplant laying sideways...Fall garden looks invigorated , rain barrel overflowing , wheel barrow completely full of water , dead grass from previous grass cuttings have collected at the end of the driveway from water rushing down earlier today .Birds are leaving their cover to forage , dark clouds once again coming from the East ...The rumble of a train coming through Palmetto , big trucks on South Fulton Parkway and the occasional jet coming into Hartsfield .....
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 6:13 PM UTC
*Nights encroachment is changing the face of town ,
an orange star phasing out ,
the borough is closing down
The elderly are content from front porches
the children called to dinner ,
bicycles , baseball bats and chalk are left
on the ground ,
the sound of buses and semis , the last train
headed south
Artificial light slowly filtering out
She's slowly , methodically , shutting down*
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 9:28 PM UTC
*Take flight yellow Moon from west to east
Tint this sleepy town as you please
Turn ramshackle eyesores into haunted houses
Blight avenues into golden hallways
Rusted train tracks become shining silver trails
Dank , foggy horizons turn to mighty Windjammer sails* ...
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
"Wish I Could Go There"
Siren screaming warning
fading away i'm happy
to be alive but the thorns
hurt sometimes like fire ants
in Florida with Palmetto bugs
just really big cockroaches in
Hawaii they are pets and even bigger
like the native gals be gentle baby
doll one eighty five going up
and up to the stars the dreams
of children touch god come from god
are god triune stabbing this that is
in the **** to cause movement
is conscious something or other
soft green leaves with sharp edges
flying liquid rock globs on the mountain
black black black ocean deep
wish i could go there in my mind
but for real they play for money
and we pay and pay and pay and wonder
who's the boss believe it or not
no one is is to scary for some
to accept and i'm writing expository but
where are the images well i'm on my way
to find out hope i get there i know
i'm going to enjoy the journey
free i i i i i
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC
*Curious birds circled to the left of center
Glossy orchards bedecked the meticulous ,
sparkling commons
Period , white fence rails , beige winter
fields , brick buildings with dancing hedgerows
Air filled with wild spearmint , December oak
fires carried on Tennessee breezes
Palmetto blue windows , pink dogwood blossom
brushstrokes stippled into morning ivory* ...
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 10:20 PM UTC
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 ..
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
*A cursory gaze into Palmetto sky
I spy a definitive portrayal of myself with
pen in hand , colloquial symbolism
penciled onto would be ancient papyrus
Screaming writes begging answers
Pushing lead hard till it finally splinters
A metaphor for anxiety left to linger
For now* ....
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
*The lake road spoiled ,
a pulp wood ravaged
landscape , the stench of
diesel , grease and oil
Clear cutting , soil busting ,
stump burning attack of the
woodland , roads turned to roil ,
black grass , untouchable slurry
Men in destructive machines
Hell bent detractive flurry of death
A wreath for a lot on Palmetto-Cascade Highway
today* ..
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 1:28 PM UTC