The Aftertaste Of Mintjulep

Mint julep stories glorified
smelling salts, debutante
cotillions;

Spanish moss still sashays from
gnarled oaks. Aristocratic

ladies sit on verandahs
fanning and
gasping for air. Bolts

of Parisian silk,
unsullied from their
journey,
transform to gowns
that pinch at the
waistlines of
genteel ghosts. On

still summer nights
you can hear desperate
cheerful laughter, fireflies
on the air. Heed

the undertones, as you might catch
the cries of those who spun
cotton candy lives but were
never allowed to taste the
sweetness.

Reviews

[Creepy Swine Guy]

This is a very interesting poem. No, this is a very powerful poem. First, the ONE question I had ... S2 L1 ... at the end should that word be "for" or "from"?

Now onto the pleasure ... there was much. The first thing that I am compelled to tell you is that I saw something in this poem first as a flaw. I noticed that "Aristocratic" seemed misplaced. It was in the wrong stanza. I was about to make note of it for my review when I saw the same thing with "Bolts". The pattern continued. It occurred to me that this was intentional and so I wondered why. The words were stuck ... they were stuck in the past stanza ... stuck in the past. The words could not escape the past. THAT ... was brilliant good poet, brilliant. The images were pristine. This is one of the most towering poems I have encountered here in a VERY long time.

A definite favorite.

[icelandicblue]

Oh, thanks so much for your enthusiastic review. Yes, that was a typo in S2L1 thanks for catching that. I am so excited that you understood the placement of the words. Thank you so much for such an in-depth commentary.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

It was my distinct pleasure. I look forward to investigating more of your words. I would be digging in now but am struggling to keep from being face down on the keyboard.

[Einstein Noodle]

i love the aura you create with this poem ..so glad i found it Icey! the old South ...both real and unreal even today ... wonderful use of the language ..imagination inspiring imaging ...tweeks all my senses ... whispers of ghost is the cherry on top for me ..well done! i have to smile a little over your closing lines as ............ a lot of tasting went on in closets i am sure .. again .. love your poem!
E.

[Bright Ocean Star]

From a person who lives in the deep south and has spent quite a lot of time amongst the antebellum plantations, having watched and read Gone with the Wind a thousand times, I love this poem. You have mastered the gentle art of word painting. I am transfixed as i read this twice. I'm only a bit puzzled by the last stanza....
"the cries of those who spun
cotton candy lives but were
never allowed to taste the
sweetness. "..... Is that a reference to the youth cut short by the Civil War? Many, many young lives were never allowed to reach their expected potential, and many estates were thrown into poverty and neglect due to the Union Soldiers burning crops and stealing all livestock and anything of value. Women and men went from lives of parties and Cotillions to working in the fields. Is this a tribute to a time long gone?

[Pryde Foltz]

Heed

the undertones, as you might catch
the cries of those who spun
cotton candy lives but were
never allowed to taste the
sweetness.

Pity the Beatific beauties … you would be surprised the number of who still bind up the virtuous beauty . A beautiful write with a very important message.

[icelandicblue]

Thank you Pryde. It seems the cornucopia is not for everyone.

[Renée]

oh you paint a beautiful picture of long ago...when beauty covered up many ugly truths.. lovely work with layers of meaning !

[icelandicblue]

Thank you so much. I am happy that you peeled the layers to see what is hidden between them.

[Renée]

easy when written well ( :

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i could see what R.L. Ives spoke of...the aristocratic thing...nicely done.

but this also brought me somewhere else...the description brought me to churchill downs in KY...

been there a few times..and there is such rich history..i was there on weekdays when it was quite empty..but my imagination was just singing all day..and this feels like that...

the last part is quite sad..."never allowed to taste the sweetness.."

reminds me of people who live with appearances but never really experience what real life is.

anyway..this is what is conjured up in my mind as i read this...and i love it.

jacob

[icelandicblue]

I am always happy when someone reads a poem and it speaks to him or her. The layers of life are complex and some lives are built upon the lives of others.

[R. L. Ives]

For me this is taking place in Savannah. It paints the picture perfectly. How everything was proper and impropriety was looked down up with much distaste. Everything superficial, People were not really allowed to just be who they wanted to be, everyone had a station so to speak. Except for that one seemingly genteel daughter of the merchant or banker that just couldn't stay away from the stable boy; oh heaven forbid child what will the whole town think, family name ruined, lol. Kush life with not so much happiness.

May sound quite odd, but I love oak trees and Spanish moss. I grew up in the Deep South. ;)

Oh, this write captivates me by the way.

[icelandicblue]

Well I thank you very much. I am truly happy that you felt the poem had realism and meaning. Thank you for taking the time to write such a thoughtful response.

[R. L. Ives]

You are very welcome. I enjoy reading your writings.

[bboooyd]

"the cries of those who spun cotton candy lives" Brilliant. Great job.

[icelandicblue]

Thank you, nice to meet you.

[quinfinn]

as god is my witness , i shall never go hungry again...this is exquisite. it smacks of the traditions and airs of the deep south and is very eloquently penned. well done, poet!

[icelandicblue]

LOL thanks...funny I too used that quote just the other day! Thank you so much for reading my work. I admire your work as a poet and I am pleased that you have taken the time to visit.

[quinfinn]

i looked for you yesterday and ran out of time (had to go out) but now i shall never go hungry for your writes again!

[icelandicblue]

Wrap yourself in a silken curtain and enjoy your day.

[quinfinn]

sounds like a good plan...now, where'd i put that curtain?

[lee von cleef]

a undertow, I was expecting the last word to be" Bitterness", But you stayed out of the Ashley and the Cooper ,went straight to Johns Landing, put in for a summer picnic watching the fourth over the Fort. or maybe it was the Emerald Ball in Lexington, wait on the first Saturday in may, A green felt hat with pink trim in your stable colors,Just don't spill your purse in the paddock,But now Baltimore won,and the Christiana Hundred are dancing .

[icelandicblue]

Your experience in the south depended on your place in the play. Where there is beauty and comfort there is often an ugly underbelly making it all possible.

[lee von cleef]

My fingers want to engage,but before I start let me say I like the poem,you are right about the ugly underbelly of the world,(a lot of it just down my road),but perspective on consumption,economics,mental media foreplay will make us all want .

[David Scott]

Your pen leaves the sweet promise of the finer things in life, but pricks the conscious mind to know reality is more often so much less tasteful.
Well done.

[icelandicblue]

Thank you so much.