Best Swampland Poems

...Big Cypress stirs, heated by Miccosukee 
sky hung in spun gold. Rising in the east, 
morning sways with waves of river grass
as the elder paddles through waking water
in dugout canoe. Bare-cheste......

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...Used to be a shy and retiring type
Back then but this is now
Like a Super Hero I burst onto the scene
To share my extensive knowhow

People have never been able to stump me
I'm a master......

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...There is a world of difference
between schism and jism,
but they both end up the same.

Just as patriarchal Roman Catholicism
overpowers living and breathing Christianity,
so too does Capitalis......

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...Haunted...
glowing foot falls on the dusted wooden planks cross the bridge
following them 
I swing around enormous trees 
skirt quickly...trying to catch up

were we holding hands as we walked
......

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...I walked into the castle
Up on the hills and in the glens
There she was dressed in white satin
She was wide eyed and smiling
The princess of sleep, mist of the morning 
A fantasy to keep


Sh......

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...Must stay close to the WC

Senior Montezuma is laughing hysterically

Thoroughly enjoying his revenge at my expense

Didn't drink the water but it made no difference

Been back home for almos......

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...Memories of childhood.



I weep hidden among the shadows of my stained glass window.
I long for the scent of magnolis when the wind blows.
Sunrise over plantations casting shadows,
under the ......

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...Hurricane of oil
nears the pristine swampland of
Louisiana's future. 

[Written after the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico in 2010]......

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...Dark angels dance overhead
Storm clouds swirl within my head
Smiles are the veils of hidden thoughts
Tormented souls question not what is not

Ile St Louis, a swamp of nighttime beasts
Where soon poe......

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...Sandy nations of Arabia
bushes of Tropical Congo
rocky lands of Afghanistan
the dry soils of Somalia
waters of the Mediterranean
bush land of Karamoja*
forestland of Colombia
ragged dress of o......

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...We’re in Paris, staying with my Grandmère (Grandmother) for a few days around Mother’s day.
Peter (my bf) is getting to know my Grandmère. They’ve started to relax and enjoy each other. This time, w......

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...Sacrificial, the non-closure of gecko eyes, and counts the lines
Drawn of rain and neon on my window’s negative plate;
In restless turpitude, nervous sanction, switch flicked
The jumpstart at the ......

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...The still waters of the swampland smell like death and feel like fear.
Dangling moss whips through the wind as darkness nears.
The sun fades and the moon appears.
Mirrors reflect the otherside, th......

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...Long ago when I was younger, yearn for knowledge I did hunger,
heard about a rumor going ‘round.
Twas a legend told for ages, passed along as time turned pages,
strange as any tale twas ever found......

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...The British traded with Major Murfree,
a galling fire the redcoats did see,
while Wayne waded through the deep swampland,
at the front a corps of axemen did walk,
to cut down abbatis that might s......

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