Palmetto Poem

PALMETTO POEM:  Strange Fruit

PALMETTO POEM: Strange Fruit

By Damarius Allen, special to Charleston Currents

Strange fruit swinging from those trees
The strangest fruit you’ve ever seen

Picked before it could ripen
Ripped from its home that tree of life
And hanged on another

by · 04/30/2017 · Comments are Disabled · Features, Palmetto Poem
PALMETTO POEM:  A Suite to Ashley Marina

PALMETTO POEM: A Suite to Ashley Marina

An excerpt from a poem by Ann Herlong Bodman

On Jeff’s boat, his girlfriend sunbathes topless,

cigarette smoke curling from the bowsprit.

Jeff watches—they never talk. Boats nod

as if they approve. Workmen sing,

by · 04/03/2017 · Comments are Disabled · Features, Palmetto Poem
PALMETTO POEM: Charleston, South Carolina

PALMETTO POEM: Charleston, South Carolina

By Amy Lowell | FIFTEEN years is not a long time,
But long enough to build a city over and destroy it;
Long enough to clean a forty-year growth of grass from between cobblestones,
And run street-car lines straight across the heart of romance.
Commerce, are you worth this?
I should like to bring a case to trial:

by · 03/06/2017 · Comments are Disabled · Features, Palmetto Poem
PALMETTO POEM:  A Paltry Light

PALMETTO POEM: A Paltry Light

By Danielle DeTiberus, special to Charleston Currents

What if the sunset last night—the waves
impossibly pink and the sand’s sheen
a soft mirror to the darkening

lavender sky— belonged to me
so that I could give it all to you?
What if I could take a page, colder

by · 02/06/2017 · 1 comment · Features, Palmetto Poem
PALMETTO POEM:  How to embrace and how to let go

PALMETTO POEM: How to embrace and how to let go

Build a world around

a man standing at a window.

He doesn’t even have to be

a man.

He can even sit.

The window can be a mirror,

and it can be a wall.

by · 12/05/2016 · Comments are Disabled · Features, Palmetto Poem
FOCUS:  Love letter to Charleston

FOCUS: Love letter to Charleston

By Derek Berry, special to Charleston Currents

Charleston’s got a spine worthy of worship.
Her teeth are corner-stores, crooked
and jammed. A fluorescent light is buried in her throat
beckoning us down from second-story porches.
She wants us to hold her hand,
to slip into something less comfortable,
a cotton shawl in the sultry shudder of summer night.
There is beauty in how she undresses
us with her humid tongue, how we return
to childlike abandon in her mouth.

PALMETTO POEM: I Wish You Black Sons

PALMETTO POEM: I Wish You Black Sons

after Lucille Clifton | For people who believe: # Black Lives Don’t Matter

By Glenis Redmond, special to Charleston Currents

I wish you the ability to bear only black fruit
I wish you only sons
I wish them black
spilled from your loins like black ink
I wish you code words like: inner city urban hip-hop
I wish you Baltimore, DC, Newark, Philly, Ferguson, Charleston, Charlotte
and Greenville and so on…

by · 10/03/2016 · Comments are Disabled · Features, Palmetto Poem
Johnson

PALMETTO POEM: Charleston childhood montage

By Jacqueline Johnson

I.

Your garden is as wild as one
of Bearden’s conjure women’s.
Lush with collards, roses, lilies,
hydrangea, figs and japonica.
One summer found me walking
concrete, dusty path to your front steps.

PALMETTO POEM:  Three by Kimberly Simms

PALMETTO POEM: Three by Kimberly Simms

Brother’s Mess of Crosses

Converted at 16, when the dummy train
derailed to tip across his pregnant wife.
A holy roller, a Carolina spinner,
a brush arbor caller, an off-key gospel singer.

He took scarlet paint to moonshine jars, boulders,
pine trees, fences, and the neighbor’s pig.
His front plot, he planted a mess of crosses
and built his own monolith with river rocks.

He didn’t pay no mind to section leaders,
howled his only boss was the man in heaven.
He sent 10,000 message bottles down the Reedy
River, dreamed of taking Jesus to Mars and Jupiter.

by · 08/15/2016 · Comments are Disabled · Features, Palmetto Poem
PALMETTO POEM: Autumn Sunday

PALMETTO POEM: Autumn Sunday

A poem by Pushcart nominee Katherine Williams of Charleston and Los Angeles. She has authored three chap books and given readings on both coasts. She has poems in Measure, Diagram, Spillway, Poemeleon, Rappahannock Review, and various anthologies. A community arts activist and surfer, she works in biomedical research and lives on James Island with her husband, poet Richard Garcia.

by · 07/04/2016 · Comments are Disabled · Features, Palmetto Poem