Best Dixie Poems
A land unto its own as old as dirt
Condemned by voguish northern state of mind
This realm you'd be hard-pressed to disconcert
Though his'try would prefer it be maligned
The secret twisted oak and winding creek
The tapestries of moss that grace the swamp
They whisper in a language few can speak
Revealing true that fair southern beauchamp
There is no match for tender Georgia peach
To Cajun gumbo nothing can compare
And off the Apalachicolan beach
Fresh oysters make the finest southern fare
Sweet Dixie with your blemishes and charms
No place I'd rather be than in your arms
Jan. 4, 2017
The American Deep South - That magical swath spanning from east Texas eastwards and upwards through to the Carolinas
For the contest by Silent One Re: Sonnet About Where I Live
Categories:
dixie, beautiful, deep, food, happiness,
Form:
Sonnet
Dixie was a little bird
Who flew from tree to tree
With bright blue eyes
And feathers gold
She was a site to see.
From tree to tree
And branch to branch
She flew around all day.
Her song would reach the tallest branch
Happy, loud and gay.
One day Dixie met her mate
While flying 'round the trees
A beautiful male with feathers orange
For all the world to see.
From that day on they fell in love
And that was plain to see
For the very next spring the trees were full
Of orange feathered birds with eyes
Blue as the sea.
Categories:
dixie, animals, girlfriend-boyfriendtree, day, tree,
Form:
Rhyme
My sweet Creole Pixie
(My granddaughter Dixie)
Still loves her Paw-Paw
In spite of his flaws
'So you do or you don't'
'So you will or you won't'
Accepts with no strings...
'It's simple' she sings
No matter what I say
('It's all right...You're okay!')
No matter what I do
('So what?' 'I love you!')
Categories:
dixie, family, love, granddaughter,
Form:
Rhyme
The headline screamed, or so it seemed,
to those who had known her well.
Said: Killer's Confession Solves Case
(from eleven years ago).
The headline shrieked so now at last
we would know all the horror
of how she was strangled
when they were both drunk
and high on something evil
when he stuffed her body in a log.
Today, his conscience broke down.
She was a sweet big-hearted woman
living homeless in an alcoholic fog.
She kept coming around to the rooms of A.A.
and even though for her we would pray,
we worried her days might be few.
Because he finally confessed
manslaughter is the charge he will do.
Twenty years in jail.
Twenty years seems way too few
for the Dixie we once knew.
Categories:
dixie, death, dedication
Form:
Narrative
Tha lil ugh-gy duckin...
...Waa-uh-uh...a BAT lookin baby!
An somMO (I don mean jus maybe!)
Growt up in a house-boat shack
Way downt-ere in ole MAN-chac
Ain lyin!! (An I AIN hat no toke)
Ugh-gy baby make BU-tam-ous foke
All LAFIN an bubbly an-DIN!
Dat black hair and daak Creo-skin!
Guess who I be TALKIN abouts??
Wha-uh SWAN dat de LORD dun turnt out!!
For my beautiful black-haired Bayou Manchac granddaughter - DIXIE!!
This is rural southern African American dialect. It is used in the present-day Delta and central Mississippi regions...I tried to state exactly how a good friend of mine from that area might describe my grandaughter, who was am ugly baby but turned out to be beautiful both inside and out...
Categories:
dixie, funny, granddaughter, people,
Form:
Rhyme
Winn Dixie Florida
Happily filling up my grocery cart I thought I heard snickers.
"Hershey's Kisses and Fruit Loops are smooching,” said Almond Slivers.
Piña-colada razzed Star Crunch, “Let's fight you chicken liver."
Energizer batteries cheered, “Smack him, Star! Give him the shivers.”
Oatmeal started crying. “Cheer up,” said the salt and pepper shakers,
“Fighting is for: snappers, snipers, snoopers, and party-poopers".
“P-a-r-t-y!” shouted Star, forgiving Piña-colada, one super market smoothie.
Heavenly Hash chilled and Luvs laid back dreaming sweet-tart pleasantries.
© August 9, 2010
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
NOTE: PRODUCTS USED AS NAMES ARE CAPITALIZED.
Categories:
dixie, funny
Form:
Rhyme
...leaving starched shirts and neckties in my rearview,
mission accomplished and to The North, I bid adieu.
I set fire to a Panatela and answered the call - "ALL ABOARD!"
The Cajun Queen was southbound down The Mighty Mississippi - MY REWARD!
The whistle blew, the bell clanged and that big paddle wheel slapped the muddy
water in perfect three quarter time.
Two summers had past since I left home at Oak Alley
seemed much longer since I held my sweet Scarlet O'Malley
Good to home in Dixie.
Categories:
dixie, america, character, devotion, history,
Form:
Free verse
Dixie Rose
You are an enduring natural beauty of immeasurable quality.
The blanket of pink flowers that embrace your lovely branches
conceal an internal strength and a unique unwavering grace
for not even the torrential flood waters of life
or the relentless savagery of a soulless pair of hands
could overcome your will and stubborn resilience
to rip you out by the root and rape you of your splendor.
Despite it all you remain just as desirable as ever
full of a yearning passion that could never be denied.
Dixie Rose
Fear not these tired rugged old hands for they are mere extensions
of a loving heart, full of more patience, and understanding
than you have ever known or could even begin to imagine.
I fear not your painful sharp thorns or the blood they may draw
for I know in my heart they were put there to save you for me.
Categories:
dixie, for her, love, rose,
Form:
Free verse
The issue's not yet signed and sealed.
Three cogent answers hold the field,
and no-one knows which is the best.
I'll set them out before you, lest
the question go a-begging.
First
(and this one's frequently rehearsed,
but holds least clout - at least with me),
the Mason-Dixon Line must be
the great divide: South, slavery,
North, freedom. Dixon, Dixie - see?
The trouble is that way back when
those two unstinting Englishmen
surveyed the Line, none under heaven
(we're talking seventeen sixty-seven)
could care a cuss if blacks were pressed
to toil unpaid at whites' behest.
And Delaware, by no means least
of slaving states, lies north and east
of said divide.
Manhattan, now:
though it may try to disavow
a past that wasn't quite PC,
New York had sloughs of slavery.
A Mister Dixie held some lands
(right where the Guggenheim now stands):
the human property he owned
led folks to talk of "Dixie's Zone"
whenever slaves were being mentioned,
and gradually, by extension,
this came to mean the South. Could be.
Pursuing perspicuity
is noble in itself, and so
I offer as my final throw
the one which really should have won
(who measures merit, though, by fun?)
Louisiana, sovereign state,
sought (sensibly) to circulate
its very own banknotes. Problem was,
the Cajun cash collapsed, because
nobody trusted it. Each bill
was written in (for good or ill)
official French, so - quelle caprice! -
each sawbuck said, not ten, but "dix".
Thus, Dixie's fixed in every brain
as something quaint, quixotic, vain.
Categories:
dixie, history,
Form:
Couplet
Descending the hill, they danced to old reels
Most composed with a Southerner's pen
Four years the blood spilled, half a million were killed
But the States were united again
Celebration complete, the Rebs left Tennessee
The young soldier said, "Sarge, no more slaves
Just one thing bothers me, they were already free
From the bulk of those sent to their graves"
And the sargeant replied as he gazed at the skies
"It's the mighty and wealthy who rule
And they get to decide, while the poor pay the price
But it's God who determines the fool"
Categories:
dixie, war,
Form:
Ballad
Dixie Born,
Black History Month 2017
Curtis Johnson
Dear Delta Dixie:
In the late summer of 1949, I was born just off highway 49 not far from your mighty waters.
I moved away in 1967, and was ashamed and embarrassed to be native born within your borders.
In my early years, I learned to read, write, and do arithmetic in your segregated schools.
In my father’s garden, at a very young age, I learned how to plow with a mule.
In the nearest city, I also learned how to sell a new pair of shoes.
For 17 years, your unjust laws oppressed me.
For 17 years, your non-golden rules depressed me.
For 17 years, your social orders stuck to me like glue.
It does not surprise me that you also gave birth to the blues.
In the mid 70’s I was invited by a friend to visit a church he attends.
I was Black and he was White, with no intentions to offend.
The next day my friend’s pastor called to tell me the news.
The reason was not that I had not paid any church dues.
But never was I to return again to sit in his church pews.
I was a Christian just like him,
but I was not welcome to sit in his pews.
Christ had paid for all my sins; but in his church, perhaps that payment was not enough to cover my sins.
Oh Delta Dixie, I have come to terms with you.
It’s been said that home is where your story begins.
And many are my treasured stories born in Delta Dixie.
It was long ago that I overcame the embarrassment.
The Grace of God ushered me over all the pain and shame.
And I have long since forgiven you, just as Christ has forgiven me.
02152017 cj PS
Categories:
dixie, america, bible, black african
Form:
Narrative
I can smell the seasons change in the land I was born piercing my soul. I can taste the flavor of the rain from inside looking out the window on stormy dayz. Memories of my childhood when I explored and played. Honey suckles, plum trees, red clay running though my veins and bloodline. Pollen season pollenating vegetation, colorful scenery of many favorite destinations. Pecan trees holding secrets of the environment's history and will be the shade and nourishment for future generations after generations. Southern wine, southern moon shine, at holiday time a piece of peppermint in mine. Southern educated cooking and eating swine. These days in maturity for my health I'm a little refine making healthier choices about mine. Rivers, mountains, streams, and lakes popular fishing pond southern fun. Southern sun sets and dripping vines of southern rain no warnings before the storm came. Mix emotions in our lives yet for many southerners south is where the heart lies....
Tears of pains and tears of joy in many lives. Prayer that The Righteous Creator bless all lives, even those outside southern borderlines....
This is the oasis of the desert in my tragic times....
Dixie Bred, Dixie Born, Dixie Fed....
Enjoy!!!!
Categories:
dixie, beauty, culture, environment, growth,
Form:
Free verse
Dixie Cup Memorial
by Odin Roark
How small it is
this bottom of the Dixie cup
looking skyward
holding high the torch
the unemployment check
of another kind
Held aloft with no regrets
Half full
Half empty
All the same
Someone had to shoulder the orders
Now in desert camo-dress
his prosthetic hand holds forth
watching fingers pass over
some manicured
with pennies
some scabbed and scarred
with singles
even children's innocent fingers
dropping their nickels and dimes
Many have acknowledged this
His back-home identity
His calling card
His shingle
His name plate
The mind huddles close now
few copper and silver
no blankets of green
no ingots of gold
A note floats downward
swathing reality
Thank you for your service
Would you like a job?
What are your skills?
Can you relocate?
Sure
he says
his eyes lingering
upon his severed legs
each knee projecting its solitary reality
Purple Heart pinned securely to the right
Just let me gather today's windfall
2 pennies
1 nickel
3 quarters
1 subway token
Relocating again
Travel
Enough to get me there
Pocketing the Dixie cup
his hook and knuckles pull forward
surging his mover's dolly
transporting Faith's hidden hope
Ahead
looking back
his benefactor strides onward
his missing arm yet another lost appendage of honor
his smile a projection of comaradery
his Ooh-rah a respect never ignored
Not far he says
Not far
Categories:
dixie, war, , memorial,
Form:
Free verse
Dancing the Dixie Dough Ray Dew
Left foot danced faster than her Shoe
She kicked it off and it really flew,
Disqualified now and so angry too!
Got so mad she had the loudest boo-hoo
Never again danced the Dixie Dough Ray Dew
Left the dance hall in the form of a shrew
Mad at those of us who had teased her too.
Took it out on her sweet husband Stew.
Invited us to a party, and none of us knew
She would bother us about the Dixie Dough Ray Dew
Her relatives are hiding from her, and her friends are few.
Categories:
dixie, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Monorhyme
As things seemingly subside at least where most are concerned
We continue on our slide with absolutely nothing being learned
Little evidence there upon the surface however just a bit below
All the things that most people miss as many didn't even know
I too could be so included but for a bit of biblical awareness
Not one that has been diluted and left to a hap hazard guess
No these are Words of precision and the truth is ever so clear
It has to do with a decision not knowing when your time's near
It is said in a blink of an eye as we have no clue of His Glory
One would have to ask why He even came to fulfill the Story
But it's all been told through the ages all of it fact not fiction
Stated clearly in all the pages despite your current affliction
It has to do with a decision not knowing your time's near
Yet separated by derision for it's satan who likes to steer
You need to turnaround for something is terribly wrong
By sin we were bound then our Savior Jesus came along
Mark 16:16
He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved;
but he that believeth not shall be damned.
No Dixie there!
Categories:
dixie, creation,
Form:
Rhyme