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Allysa
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 5 Tours
Senior Member
since 1999-11-09
Posts 1952
In an upside-down garden

0 posted 2006-03-03 06:44 PM


IV.

Should’ve been born somewhere not here
Far away from the Ohio weather that
Makes me shiver in my sleep, someplace
Like the Deep South, where we sit on the
Back porch and they call me a Yank, and
Feed me shrimp, and red beans and rice,
Sitting on the swing, staring at the tin roof
That they made themselves, the roof that stayed
Put, when over the fence, you can see the tree
That fell into the house next door and

Across the street, the alarm’s been going off
For days, it seems like, I’ve only been there
An hour or two, it feels like forever and
You can’t shut your eyes in the car, whenever
Someone gasps, you turn your head and
Sometimes, they laugh at the abandoned cars
With the words “For Sale” written on the
Window in water-muck, disappointed because
Something isn’t there anymore, everything
Just isn’t where you left it now that

I’ve walked the streets of the Quarter
And I can see it in my head, it’s running
Through my blood like I’m one of those
New Orleans girls that I hear everyone talk
About, like I was born and raised here or
Something, and I dream about Café du Monde
About walking down Decatur Street, and
I can still see it all inside my head, like it’s
A place I’ve been a million times, when
Well, really, I was there for four days, maybe

More, I really don’t remember, I drove everyone
Else up the wall, just wanting to walk around
And I keep hearing New Years Eve inside my head,
Midnight in Nola’s, eating food that costs
More than filling up my gas tank, at least, in Ohio
it would, and I can’t stand to be here, anymore,
I just want to walk the streets a few more times,
See the jazz band in the park and eat something
That doesn’t come out of a paper box, fill my
Stomach full of beignets and chicory coffee

I want to get fat on the idea that a
City could love me, let me get lost in its
Twisted streets and shops and the magic
Of people who sing as they open the doors
In the morning, washing the dirty streets
Getting ready for another day of business or
Something, staring at the bent over telephone
Poles as I walk on by, and I wonder now
How something so broken could be so beautiful
Something so beautiful could be so shattered

And I know everyone here’s been saying it’s
Horrible, they’ve said it a million times, but
Seriously, all they see is snow, ten times a week
They don’t know what it’s like, when everything
Just isn’t white anymore, and I don’t either
But I try, I try, I try, because, well, because
I feel like I’ve been there for so long, I’ve been
Staring at Andrew Jackson’s statue for so long
That I’ve been thinking, well, I’ve been
Thinking that I might like to take him home.

[This message has been edited by Allysa (03-04-2006 08:52 AM).]

© Copyright 2006 Allysa - All Rights Reserved
nakdthoughts
Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200
Between the Lines
1 posted 2006-03-04 09:06 AM


"I want to get fat on the idea that a
City could love me, let me get lost in its
Twisted streets and shops and the magic
Of people who sing as they open the doors
In the morning, washing the dirty streets
Getting ready for another day of business "


Your words were wonderfully expressed...I hope Serenity catches this one to read~~
I have never been there but your words gave me a view~

M

Juju
Member Elite
since 2003-12-29
Posts 3429
In your dreams
2 posted 2006-03-04 02:25 PM


Wow this is simply excelent.

-Juju

-<>-~-<>-~-<>-  
*    Juju     *
-<>-~-<>-~-<>-

Ratleader
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Rara Avis
since 2003-01-23
Posts 7026
Visiting Earth on a Guest Pass
3 posted 2006-03-24 09:52 PM


I love the way you ended this poem....that was a touch of brilliance that spotlights all the rest.

~~(¸¸¸¸ºº>   ~~(¸¸¸¸ºº>  ~~(¸¸ ¸¸ºº>    ~~~(¸¸ER¸¸ºº>
______________Ratleader______________

suthern
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Seraphic
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723
Louisiana
4 posted 2006-03-26 02:33 PM


I lived in New Orleans for many years... and have friends that returned as well as ones who're trying to make their lives elsewhere...
And all that's just an unnecessary prologue to these words... Your poem isn't just about the city... it IS the city... the incredible memories... the overwhelming despair... and the determination that the muck and ruin won't be its epitaph.
This is going into my library. *S*

Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
5 posted 2006-03-26 03:48 PM


Allysa...thank you for taking me there with you.  Wonderful visuals and emotional quality to this poem...so enjoyed!  

PS  I'm going to send this link to Serenity.

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

6 posted 2006-03-28 12:56 PM


alyssa?

There are just some people and they know. You are one of them.

This is a damned hard city to leave--I don't have to travel the world to know that there is no other place like it.

People used to asked me, pre-Katrina, why I never traveled.

I would answer: "There was no place else I wanted to be."

Thank you, thank you, yet again, for writing what I cannot. It wouldn't be believed through my home-lovin' eyes--you capture the magic of the anachronism that we--I, have become.

I really love you for that.

I should mention you are a damned fine writer too.

Musicmaker1969
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Senior Member
since 2000-06-25
Posts 589
Peterborough, Ontario Canada
7 posted 2006-05-23 03:15 AM


Again, your poems are very emotional.  This one gives me a sense of depression and rightly so.  I can't imagine seeing cars FLOATING in the streets.  You have a wonderful imagination or very deep pain that makes you write about this horrible tragedy so well.  I feel for all those who lost something or somebody in it.

Blessings,
Sheri Adams

Jesus lives in my heart!  He can in yours too!!!
Sheri Liegh Adams
sheriliegh@sympatico.ca

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