{"id":7959,"date":"2022-11-01T21:06:21","date_gmt":"2022-11-01T21:06:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/?p=7959"},"modified":"2022-11-03T00:07:42","modified_gmt":"2022-11-03T00:07:42","slug":"peach-delphine-the-blackwater-river-poems","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/peach-delphine-the-blackwater-river-poems\/","title":{"rendered":"Peach Delphine The Blackwater River Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/ZfrFAfctLkE\" title=\"YouTube video player\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p> &#8211;<\/p>\n<pre><strong>it was not the arc of a star-<\/strong>\r\n\r\nBoat tail grackles wove a river of possibilities\r\nwhere each scar became eye, it was not a song \r\nof our grandmothers from beyond pines, \r\n buried in flesh, bone close, blade thin, what must be \r\ncarried, weight of singing, of the gone, an edge,\r\n tasting of blood, navel oranges, pie lemons, \r\n\r\ncalamondin, an incandescence living\r\n in my flesh, glyphs of their own light, their own\r\n life, divination begins with my shoulder blade,\r\nanother bone tossed on the pile, a pyre\r\nstacking itself into a ceremony of absences,\r\n\r\nwithout moonlight desire floats with owls,\r\nglide path of palms, asphalt, gravel, we are such,\r\nan aggregate laid down for the passage of others,\r\nso many carcasses trundled into pavement,\r\n\r\nwith the random divination of bird tracks,\r\nas day burns, we burn, as ash reveals, stars\r\nunfold, as stragglers croak their way out\r\nto the rookery, we remain cindered, land bound,\r\na reliquary of unattained salvation, a singing\r\nwhittled down, stacked fatwood desiring flame,\r\nall our dreams arrive here, shore of burning,\r\nsongs mangrove verdant, tangled in drifts of shell.\r\n\r\n<strong>\r\n-Dog has a pumpkin head-<\/strong>\r\n\r\nit was the season of rhymes,\r\npig killing, wood burning, whiskey,\r\nyou said your brother wouldn't care\r\nwho I was, true enough as he only spoke\r\nto the dog and the stove, his back porch\r\n\r\nnavel oranges, kumquats,\r\ncabbage palms, a bougainvillea blood\r\ndark flowering, eating canned peaches\r\nfished from a cooler of tall boys,\r\n\r\nyou said I was good enough for your bed,\r\nthe back of your bike, biscuits at your kitchen\r\ntable, second drawer in your dresser, ''Sit, \r\nso listen, there's no redemption,\r\n just atonement, and there's no end to that.\"\r\n\r\nSour gum flowering gathered\r\nup into honey, we chewed the comb\r\nas if adopted by bears, living off\r\nsaw palmetto berries and grubs,\r\nor the other flesh,\r\n\r\nthorn of my tongue, word pierced,\r\nwe are without, not of, not\r\nwithin time, hinged sky, a mollusk\r\ndrying out between tides, barnacled\r\nwind bent, current woven, taste skin,\r\ntaste wind, taste salt, how blade manifests\r\na dream life, tongue balanced, taut with lace\r\nof scars, a sargassum float of entanglement,\r\nsmall crabs, sea turtles, it was the season\r\nof arrivals, no hint yet of the horizon\r\nclosing upon us, the other fruit\r\nripening on the tree, absence\r\novertaking, hand\r\nover fist.\r\n\r\n<strong>  -Pithlachascotee River -<\/strong>\r\n\r\nSome Sunday she said from the kitchen to the breezeway,\r\n\"Suffer not a witch\", left before  dinner,\r\nwalked  to the landing, where possibilities\r\nsurvive immersion, current relentlessly flowing, \r\ntook the skiff downriver, followed a creek\r\ninto the mangrove, abandoned habitation, learned\r\ntide, names of wind, to thatch with palmetto\r\nto polish the blade, circular motion of sharpening, \r\nstone of susurration honing the heart, hatchet of tongue \r\nriving chunks of fatwood to feed hands of flame, cupped \r\nwith each evening, there is a singing on the breeze, \r\na litany of pollination, a triumph of flowering,\r\n night fills my ears as sparks of fireflies float \r\nover the verdure of burning, praise laced \r\nwith woodsmoke, wave summoned tide \r\nmanifests this form, an expression of sea,\r\n a liver of possibilities, a cloud filled lung,\r\nbreath of a thicker atmosphere, ponderous \r\nflight as form reveals itself to sky.\r\n\r\nSun folded away in its blue coverlet, you cannot drink \r\nfrom this broken cup of sky spilling moon, skillet on the fire, clouds stack on the horizon, \r\nspoonbill stretching wing\r\n into shade, egrets lifting over mangrove, we lived\r\n for a while on black coffee and bacon, shouldering \r\na river door wind walks through, trailing night and a glory \r\nof stars, we gathered the taste of names, memory is flesh, \r\ntrees  speak of it, questioned which half holds the spoon,\r\nwhich half lifts the bowl, which eye is on the horizon, \r\nweather coiling beyond curve of sea.\r\n\r\nAs fireflies are shards of air cracked by lightning, \r\nwe name ourselves that sea may know us, \r\nsalt tasting salt, coiled into wave of remembrance, \r\nthe whistle and click each song must pass through\r\nto reach open water where emerald shimmers \r\ninto cobalt, lifting such light as we can from all this\r\n broken, edges balanced on fingertips, a divide between\r\n what glitters  and what sinks quietly, some days my dress\r\nis burlap, sometimes a hank of sea borrowed\r\nfrom wave, tide uncoiled from one hand the other dipped\r\n into river, filtering a current of unintended sorrow, \r\nwhere the gone has lifted onto  breeze, silence feathers\r\nits nest beneath tongue, magnolia opening slowly \r\nwith morning or  question swallowing word, sometimes\r\nI am spoonbill, head down wading,  a roseate flowering\r\n in an unnamed forest striding into darkness, sometimes\r\n there is a face in the mirrored waters, sometimes\r\n it is mine, sometimes a voice, wave lifted, sometimes \r\nwe speak but the voice is never mine, face of water,\r\n voice of wind, a sound from the edge of all things. <\/pre>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/peach-delphine-the-blackwater-river-poems\/img_20211110_130331\/#main\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-7961\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/11\/IMG_20211110_130331-225x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"225\" height=\"300\" class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-7961\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/11\/IMG_20211110_130331-225x300.jpg 225w, https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/11\/IMG_20211110_130331-768x1024.jpg 768w, https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/11\/IMG_20211110_130331-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/11\/IMG_20211110_130331.jpg 1200w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 225px) 100vw, 225px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong>Peach Delphine<\/strong> is a queer poet from Tampa, Florida. Former cook infatuated with what remains of the undeveloped Gulf coast and blackwater rivers.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\n&nbsp;<br \/>\nRobin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of <a href=\"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\">Poetry Life and Times<\/a> at <a href=\"http:\/\/Artvilla.com\">Artvilla.com <\/a>; You may visit <a href=\"http:\/\/www.aquillrelle.com\/authorrobin.htm\">Aquillrelle.com\/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop <\/a> about author &amp; <a href=\"https:\/\/poetrylifeandtimes.com\">https:\/\/poetrylifeandtimes.com<\/a> See Robin performing his work <a href=\"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/robin-hislop-reads-at-university-of-leeds-his-poetry-and-translations-video-performance\">Performance (University of Leeds)<\/a><\/p>\n<div class=\"wp-socializer wpsr-share-icons\" data-lg-action=\"show\" data-sm-action=\"show\" data-sm-width=\"768\"><h3>Share and Enjoy !<\/h3><div class=\"wpsr-si-inner\"><div class=\"wpsr-counter wpsrc-sz-40px\" style=\"color:#000\"><span class=\"scount\" data-wpsrs=\"\" data-wpsrs-svcs=\"pinterest,print,pdf,twitter\"><i class=\"fa fa-share-alt\" aria-hidden=\"true\"><\/i><\/span><small class=\"stext\">Shares<\/small><\/div><div class=\"socializer sr-popup sr-count-1 sr-40px sr-pad\"><span class=\"sr-pinterest\"><a data-pin-custom=\"true\" data-id=\"pinterest\" style=\"color:#ffffff;\" rel=\"nofollow\" href=\"https:\/\/www.pinterest.com\/pin\/create\/button\/?url=&amp;media=&amp;description=\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Submit this to Pinterest\"><i class=\"fab fa-pinterest\"><\/i><span class=\"ctext\" data-wpsrs=\"\" data-wpsrs-svcs=\"pinterest\"><\/span><\/a><\/span>\n<span class=\"sr-print\"><a data-id=\"print\" style=\"color:#ffffff;\" rel=\"nofollow\" href=\"https:\/\/www.printfriendly.com\/print?url=\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Print this article \"><i class=\"fa fa-print\"><\/i><\/a><\/span>\n<span class=\"sr-pdf\"><a data-id=\"pdf\" style=\"color:#ffffff;\" rel=\"nofollow\" href=\"https:\/\/www.printfriendly.com\/print?url=\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Convert to PDF\"><i class=\"fa fa-file-pdf\"><\/i><\/a><\/span>\n<span class=\"sr-twitter\"><a data-id=\"twitter\" style=\"color:#ffffff;\" rel=\"nofollow\" href=\"https:\/\/twitter.com\/intent\/tweet?text=%20-%20%20\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Tweet this !\"><i class=\"fab fa-twitter\"><\/i><\/a><\/span>\n<span class=\"sr-share-menu\"><a href=\"#\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"More share links\" style=\"color:#ffffff;\" data-metadata=\"{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;excerpt&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;image&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;short-url&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;rss-url&quot;:&quot;https:\\\/\\\/www.artvilla.com\\\/plt\\\/feed\\\/&quot;,&quot;comments-section&quot;:&quot;comments&quot;,&quot;raw-url&quot;:null,&quot;twitter-username&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;fb-app-id&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;fb-app-secret&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\"><i class=\"fa fa-plus\"><\/i><\/a><\/span><\/div><\/div><\/div><div class=\"wp-socializer wpsr-share-icons\" data-lg-action=\"show\" data-sm-action=\"show\" data-sm-width=\"768\"><div class=\"wpsr-si-inner\"><div class=\"socializer sr-popup sr-32px sr-pad\"><span class=\"sr-facebook\"><a data-id=\"facebook\" style=\"background-color:#1e73be;color:#8224e3;\" rel=\"nofollow\" href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/share.php?u=\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"Share this on Facebook\"><i class=\"fab fa-facebook-f\"><\/i><\/a><\/span>\n<span class=\"sr-share-menu\"><a href=\"#\" target=\"_blank\" title=\"More share links\" style=\"background-color:#1e73be;color:#8224e3;\" data-metadata=\"{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;excerpt&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;image&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;short-url&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;rss-url&quot;:&quot;https:\\\/\\\/www.artvilla.com\\\/plt\\\/feed\\\/&quot;,&quot;comments-section&quot;:&quot;comments&quot;,&quot;raw-url&quot;:null,&quot;twitter-username&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;fb-app-id&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;fb-app-secret&quot;:&quot;&quot;}\"><i class=\"fa fa-plus\"><\/i><\/a><\/span><\/div><\/div><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&#8211; it was not the arc of a star- Boat tail grackles wove a river of possibilities where each scar became eye, it was not a song of our grandmothers from beyond pines, buried in flesh, bone close, blade thin, what must be carried, weight of singing, of the gone, an edge, tasting of blood, &#8230; <a title=\"Peach Delphine The Blackwater River Poems\" class=\"read-more\" href=\"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/peach-delphine-the-blackwater-river-poems\/\" aria-label=\"More on Peach Delphine The Blackwater River Poems\">Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[808,977,796,366,401,43],"tags":[18,136,3],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7959"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7959"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7959\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7971,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7959\/revisions\/7971"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7959"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7959"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7959"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}