Poetic Haven |
IV. |
Allysa
since 1999-11-09
Posts 1952In an upside-down garden |
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).] |
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© Copyright 2006 Allysa - All Rights Reserved | |||
nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
"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 |
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Juju Member Elite
since 2003-12-29
Posts 3429In your dreams |
Wow this is simply excelent. -Juju -<>-~-<>-~-<>- |
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Ratleader
since 2003-01-23
Posts 7026Visiting Earth on a Guest Pass |
I love the way you ended this poem....that was a touch of brilliance that spotlights all the rest. ~~(¸¸¸¸ºº> ~~(¸¸¸¸ºº> ~~(¸¸ ¸¸ºº> ~~~(¸¸ER¸¸ºº> |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
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* |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
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. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
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. |
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Musicmaker1969
since 2000-06-25
Posts 589Peterborough, Ontario Canada |
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!!! |
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