This is my verse for ReadWritePoem’s prompt #103 which was to incorporate “pomegranate” into a poem.

Swashbuckling Boots


Footsteps of Jean Lafitte
echo from the past as I,
in my black eye patch and
swashbuckling boots, walk
the same streets. Revelers
dance down Decatur, gold
teeth winking in the sunlight at
wenches who lift their ruffled skirts
and crook their fingers: come hither!
The crowd salutes the paraders
with beers held high but I,
I sip my pomegranate martini with
lips stained red then kiss you with
a tart popped tongue.


21 thoughts on “Pyrates

  1. nice words to go with the great boots…and pommy marti…pommy marti??? the brother of of some Cuban poet in my twisted mind…thanks for sharing this my friend


  2. Whoa, you’re down on Jackson Square. A Cosmo is the only way to properly ingest pomegranate. Aye lass, yer crook fingra tis castin’ a shadow on yer swashy buckler booties. Now, this poem is indeed a tribute to the better part of this venerable and fabled fruit. Happy Pyrate Day to ye. I enjoyed your poem (and the thought).


  3. Yummy!
    I wished I was right beside you during the parade!
    You really are able to bring the taste of NOLA into your work…Great!


    1. Ah, Lilie, it is beautiful here now. However, this is an old poem that I just moved from “private” to “public” along with some others. I had to put them to private because they were published on a ezine back in January & one of the provisions was they had to be off my blog for a month. I just remembered to republish them here today. πŸ™‚


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