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Unique Sep 27
crossing over that fog encased bridge
the wind doing ceremonial
freedom dances with my hair

that first step out of the taxi
and onto the vividly colorful
rejoicing streets of New Orleans

the little drummer boy who played
his instrument with such passion
my feet couldn’t help but leap along
to the rhythm

the hippie man on the balcony
who shared with me his passionately
growing love for his wife... along with
his one hitter too

and his wife who was never empty handed or lacking energy to dance
with any and everybody who danced back

the twenty something times my best friend friend looked at me and told me i was beautiful, each drink he consumed making his voice more desperate and his eyes look deeper within me

when the girls below us lifted up their blouses and exposed beautiful ******* of all different shapes, sizes, colors, forms

and the flying beads i threw around their necks like champions, followed by my arms extending as i did a jig of excitement

the wonderful soul of a girl who bought my drinks and told me to follow my dreams

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.... and a kiss
with my best friend who might as well
be in love with me

a cheers
to friendship and freedom
to beauty and love
to life
Big Virge Sep 16
What Would ... YOU DO ... !?!
  
If You Were ...
Left To .... DIE .... ?!?  
By Those Who ... CLAIM ...
To ... "CHERISH Your Life !" ...
  
What Would YOU DO ... ?!?
To Stay ... ALIVE ... !?!
  
Would You ... LOOT ... ?
Would You ... SHOOT ... ?
Would You ... **** ...

Or Get .... IRATE .... ?
  
Or Would You ... " just " ...
Accept ... Your FATE ... ?!?!?
  
Whilst You Looked ...
At An ... EMPTY Plate ...
  
These Are Scenes ...
Like ... New Orleans ...
  
I Can't Believe ...
The Things I've ... SEEN ... !?!
  
S H A T T E R E D ... " Dreams " ... !!!
and Slates now ... CLEAN ...  
  
I Hope You're Getting ...
... What I Mean ... !!!
  
FLOODS of Water ...
KILLING Daughters ... !!!
  
NOTHING Left ...
of Bricks and ... Mortar ... !!!
  
People ... "TRAPPED" ...
In A State of ... TRAUMA ...
  
STUCK IN ... "The Corner" ...
of A ... "BODY FILLED Sauna" ... !!!
  
WHERE Was ................................................... " Help " ... ???
When It Was .... NEEDED .... ?!?
  
Even YES ...
When People ... PLEADED ... !?!?!
  
NOWHERE .......................................
....To Be ........................................ Found .... !!?!!
  
Troops were ... YES ...
On ................................................ Foreign Grounds .....
FIGHTING Those In ... Other Towns ... ?!?
  
NOW ... If YOU Were ...
Inside ... "The Dome" ...
KNOWING That ...  
You'd LOST Your Home ... !!!
  
How Would ... ???

THOSE Words ... NOW Sound ...
If You KNEW ... Inside Your Heart ...
YOUR CHILDREN Had Now ... DROWNED ... !!!!!
  
I'd Feel Like ... " LASSIE " ...
With ... NO BONE ... !!!
  
AND Might Want To ...
TOPPLE ... Thrones ... !?!
  
Thrones of ... THOSE ...
Who CLEARLY ... " CHOSE " ...
To ...... Turn Their Back ...
  
Until ..................................................... EXPOSED ...........
  
So ...
Now They've COME ... !!!
Like ... ATTILA The *** ... !!!!
  
Why Send Those ...
Who ... Carry GUNS ... ?!?
  
DON'T Get Me ... WRONG ... !!!
  
Things That Seem ...
To Have ... Gone On ...
DID Leave Me Feeling ... MAD ... !!!
  
Why Steal ... " Laptops " ... ?
and ... TV's ... ?!!!?
  
WHY Do That ...  
Black People ... PLEASE ... !!!!!
  
Steal The Things ...
That You WILL NEED ... !!!!!!
In A Time of ... TRAGEDY ... !!!!!!!
  
FOOD Supplies ...
So You CAN FEED ...  
People ...... LOSING ............. E N E R g y ...................... !!!!!!!!!!!!!
  
But ...
Here's The POINT ...
  
What Would YOU DO ... ?!?
Be ... CIVILISED ...
When TRAPPED INSIDE ...
A City Facing ... GENOCIDE ... !!!?!!!
  
It's EASY To ... " Sit " ...
and ... Make A Case ...
  
Whilst ...........  
Watching from ..................
  
A ... " Safer Place " ...
  
But ... That's The Same ...
For ... ALL Who Watched ...
The ... HURRICANE ... !!!!!!
and Make The CLAIM ...
That VICTIMS Acted ...
With ... NO SHAME ... !!!
  
Like Those WITH ...
  
AIR FORCE ONE ...
.... Airplanes .... !!!!!!  
  
The Point of THIS ...
Is To .......................... RESIST ........
  
" Reports of  " ...
  
CRIME and WICKEDNESS .....
  
AMERICA ...
Has NOW Been SHAMED ... !!!
  
PEOPLE Were ...
Just Left To ... DIE ... ?!?
  
SOMEONE Should ...
NOW TAKE ... Some Blame ...  

For ...
Watching This ... U N F O L D ...
  
How Could These OFFICIALS ...  
Be .... SO COLD .... !!!! ? !!!!
  
To Treat These PEOPLE ...
Just Like ...... " Slaves " ......
In Those ... " Days of Old " ... !?!
  
Well ... THESE Are Days ...
That Seem ... THE SAME ... ?!!!?
  
It Seems That Things ...
Just ... HAVE NOT Changed ... !?!
  
COME ON People ...
USE Your ... Brains ... !!!
  
DON'T BE Like Ben Man ...  
  
CHANGE Your Lane ... !!!!!!!!!!!
  
Blacks STILL Live ...
In ... " POVERTY " ...
  
SOME White People ...
STILL Hold ... " Keys " ...
  
KEYS To ... " Things " ...
From ... " Economies " ...
Right Down To ...  
Our ... " DESTINIES " ... !!!
  
So ...
If You FACED ...
Problems Like THESE ...
  
Wouldn't YOU ... Feel Blue ... ???
  
Well Nowadays ...
You MAY Just ... " FIND " ...  
That Nature's ... Giving CLUES ... !!!
  
We ALL ... Now Face ...
Some ... HORRID Times ...
  
These Words Are Just ...  
....... " My View " .......
  
But IF MY Words ...
Applied To ... YOU ...
  
In TRUTH ....
  
" What Would You Do ? "
Obviously written soon after Katrina, from the outside looking in, it seemed much like a " 3rd World " effort, in terms of the response the US Government provided, but sadly, many of these words have run true subsequently, I won't mention the current US President, however, from heatwaves to the treatment of families living in America, until recently, things haven't got much better.

Kanye has his moments !!!!!
Simone Gabrielli Oct 2017
This land still sings your silent song
I chased it West under suspension bridges
In the empty whiskey bottles along Mississippi railroad tracks
In the sound of sugar sweet air in blue humid mornings
and the cool breath of absinthe sipped by the riverside
flanked by banana leaves.
Heard it in the breeze of swamp-side Cyprus trees, over swaying docks to rod iron French Quarter balconies, above the Bourbon street children drumming hymns of the Bayou's soul.
G Rog Rogers Aug 2017
I thought of you in Paris
and remembered
you in Zurich

I was reminded of
you in Moscow
and I could not forget
you in Cancun

My memories were of you when I went back
to New Orleans
and Tampa Bay

I continue thinking of you
in Dallas and LA.

-R.

(16)
-LA
©2017
Brandon Burtis Apr 2017
A clothes hanger
                   clutches a line
                   of paper lanterns
                                     lighting my next step
                                     on streets my shoes stick to
                                               from wheat beer
I hear the ‘Pit'                      coursing through cracks  
                    &                        inebriating aged clay bricks
                    ‘Pat”
                     of rain on rooftops
                                   & falsely take it
                                       for Charlie Parker's
                                                     'Hot House'
but it’s 2am near Tulane
  & they’ve graduated to
                  tracks from Tremé;
                  Brass jazz & barflies;
                  Mad Hatters & Mademoiselles
                                     dancing barefoot
                                     in the French Quarters
                                            under red fluorescent lights
                                               under cloud-covered stars;
She gets them drunk off dance & song;
Guaranteed to make locals
                      late to last call;
                      shows them back-country gems,
                        the beautiful ruins known only
                                                      by bayou gals
                                                            & city folk
outside,                                              in search of sirens
where the ceiling's missing,
dancing 'till their bodies taste like rain

They 'crash'
                    &
                       'splash'
                                       .....breaking through worn wooden floors
                                                          ­           & cracks in plaster walls
lead by the ‘Pit’                                                     back to the street,
                        &
                      ‘Pat’
                              as other strange drops join the dance,
                              descending from skies to rooftops;
                                                     Finding lower highs
                                                     in search of Bourbon Street
                                                          ­          lost & looking
&                                                                 near Tulane at 2am
my blue suede shoes are dying of thirst,
                                 stuck upon each step;
                                          lacking direction
&                                         looking for jazz
waiting to drown
      in the 'Pit'
                 & 'Pat'
                     & splash
                         of this daily rain dance;
                         Lose myself in this listening
                         as dreamers do
                             on the streets near Tulane
                             At 2am;
Meant to be read like jazz.......preferably, with bourbon
It's 10 pm and the heat just hit me
The AC is off but I couldn't be more happy
Touched my first palm tree and dipped my hand in the toilet
Grabbed a cab to the city, on the seat there was a death threat
For breakfast we had Bananas foster, po'boys and hash brown
When Amanda power walked I had to tell her to slow down
By the Mississipi river I drank a peach daquiri
The waitress wanted more tips and across the streets she chased me
Strippers gave me the finger, ****** begged for ******
We were stuck in traffic cause of the constant flash floods
In a Camaro and a Werewolf to creep with vampires and slaves
Talking about plantations by the old family graves
And you were so beautiful under that big oak tree
Even more in the rain outside that locked cemetery
On Bourbon street the homeboys were asking for hugs
And I gave away all my coins to some thugs
We ate jambalaya and fried green tomatoes
The ladies were halfnaked but no one called them hoes
In a blacksmith shop with no electricity
We drank Morgan and got wasted with some other swedes
Wherever we went we felt the smell of ****
From every balcony people were throwing beads
All the ***** sounds were drowned out by the air condition
On the floor Hoyt from True Blood was changing positions
Then Chris slept like a baby when the cockroach sang him lullabies
For some reason it made more sense than "bridge may ice"
Lindy Apr 2016
Nola I came crawling
fingernails scratching at your broken concrete
blast-ridden ears numb to
Music at your center -
Now I lay myself down in your canals
Along your muddy parks
naked; indiscreet
I swirl in trumpet music
Eddy down echo streets
With funeral processions -
celebrations of Lives worth living
Again and again.
I would fold myself neatly
In lines like paper airplanes
to cut through your wet air
like a deft tongue parting lips
gasp and gasp again,
I want to deep dive in cerulean.
It's 10 pm and the heat just hit me
The AC is off but I couldn't be more happy
Touched my first palm tree and dipped my hand in the toilet
Grabbed a cab to the city, on the seat there was a death threat
For breakfast we had Bananas foster, po'boys and hash brown
When Amanda power walked I had to tell her to slow down
By the Mississipi river I drank a peach daquiri
The waitress wanted more tips and across the streets she chased me
Strippers gave me the finger, ****** begged for ******
We were stuck in traffic cause of the constant flash floods
In a Camaro and a Werewolf to creep with vampires and slaves
Talking about plantations by the old family graves
And you were so beautiful under that big oak tree
Even more in the rain outside that locked cemetery
On Bourbon street the homeboys were asking for hugs
And I gave away all my coins to some thugs
We ate jambalaya and fried green tomatoes
The ladies were halfnaked but no one called them hoes
In a blacksmith shop with no electricity
We drank Morgan and got wasted with some other swedes
Wherever we went we felt the smell of ****
From every balcony people were throwing beads
All the ***** sounds were drowned out by the air condition
On the floor Hoyt from True Blood was changing positions
Then Chris slept like a baby when the cockroach sang him lullabies
For some reason it made more sense than "bridge may ice"
Brent Kincaid Feb 2016
In old New Orleans
Musical lumberjacks
Legitimizing their axes;
Just piano, clarinet,
Bass and the drums.
Bringing jazz back
And then some.

The cat could play
That skinny long black horn,
Hotter clarinet than
Anybody ever born,
He kept hitting notes
So pure and high
We felt each note
In our eyes!

And, if you chance by
Remember this,
They don’t allow dancing.
But when the drummer
Makes works those skins
And makes them talk out
There is plenty of toe-tapping
And nobody ever walks out.

Then, when the guy
Plays that bass fiddle
He adds an underscore
To top bottom and middle.
It’s an underbeat of grace
That will fill the rest space
And the hearts of all
In this overcrowded place.

Vintage jazz roars out
Of an old, old piano
Played by a happy madman
With fingers afire, he knows
He’s got them hooked;
He’s making them wild
As he wails on those keys
He looks out and smiles
And he puts the Satchmo touch
On those old-timey songs

And once in a while
They ask us to sing along.
For the past forty-six years
Those ugly plastered walls
Have never hear so many
Gratefully rendered curtain calls
From an audience of clerks and swells.
On Bourbon Street’s Fritzel’s.
Through hurricanes and beers
Like stepping back a hundred years.
Fats is still playing, Bessie singing
Original jazz music is still swinging.
JR Potts Sep 2015
It felt as though the humidity itself
carried a hint of liquor as we walked
out into the night, wanting only to escape
our lives for a little.
Deep down in Vieux Carre’
twisted brass clashed with a piano
running half step from the crowded clubs
on Frenchman Street.
We filled our lungs with the city
and found her to be like certain kinds
of dangerous doses--
intoxicating.

It was our second night
and the more we drank
the more I began to see glimpses
of the specters spoken of by locals.
They linger in my peripheral,
watching me with their sunken eyes.
You could faintly hear them moan,
only in defeated tones
and their collective scowl danced
in the heavy air of summer
as though it were a part from
all that jazz.

In the stranger hours of morn
I was approached by a ghost
a few blocks off Bourbon.
He offered up nothing but his ***** palms
in hopes of some false salvation.
I wrestled a dollar from my pocket
and passed it on to him,
only to watch him fruitlessly grasp at it
before it slide through his ghostly hands
to the floor below.
He looked down at the dollar
all helpless-like and he said
"It’s been slipping through my fingers
like dat for years now
and ain't nobody help’n me."

I walked from him, realizing then
why I had needed this trip,
I needed to remember all the love in my life
because the only difference between
me and the ghosts of N'awlins
was someone cared about me,
and I cared enough about them
not to destroy myself.
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