"nola" poems
There was a squandering ember that climbed her spinal chord
and lit the deteriorating birchwood on the peach-fuzzed tea lamps.
When those stairwells cramped and swelled with staggered liquid terraces
in the foundational pin-cushion that cradled family after family.
Woe begone chants that railed support beams moaning under elemental abuse.
A litter of ghost kittens coiling underfoot where the rug
used to yawn before the grandfather clock,
now senile and rotting with absent-minded tick-tocks.
Inside her streetcorner, the music was that
monkey hopping to street ***** blue notes on somber ropes.
The air thick with the regal, chunky vibe
of batting eyes, flirty sighs, and bourbon.
Between the buildings again...
embraced with the same warm feeling that
entrances your fingertips, lips, and ears when within a man's arms.
In this city, Love is those two birds on that same powerline
that bowed and ebbed with summer's sweet sigh.
Sep 23, 2011
Sep 23, 2011 at 11:47 PM UTC
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.
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC
A couple wuz beading up
for a chi chi day
She drunkenly laughed
**** stained her dress
A olive skin woman
in golden glitter pasties
Offered neon *** shots
near 10 in the morning
A chubby girl dressed
in a black fishnet body suit
selling face paintings
while her supple *******
Jiggled in your face
A black man occupied
A most different plain
Sat behind two chess boards
wasn't gettin paid
Two SAP cars parked
At Royal Sonesta curb
idling to taxi exec sappers
back to the friendly skies
****** whippin glitter girl
Shakin her money maker
Lookin hard at her wares
What the hell she sellin?
Across the street
miked up bible thumper
Doin his groove thing
Raged against the ***** show
Ca ching ca ching ca ching
I ducked a bity bee
Flying at my face
I'm walkin Bourbon
Full of mighty grace
Hard Rock Guys
selling cannabis lollis
crowded corners bumpin
Ain't no trollies
boom box blastin
back beat samples
Who Dat Jazz?
muskrat rambles
Three card monte
Obstructive beggers
Kids banging on
5 gallon drums
Gimme a dime mister
Louie Armstrong Park
Congo Square
Where it at?
Gotta get there
***** Glitter still barking
Mardi ****** Gras tees
Snapchat Me Your *****
Ducked another bee
Kid put his two pails
In mid of the rue
Gotta pay the toll
Whatcha gunna do?
Music:
Mardi Gras Music
From NOLA Notes
2/18/17
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
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.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC
Over hill on a golden afternoon,
Down thro’ the wooden dales, where lights succumb,
Wondered when Stars wink at the Moon,
To shame the Sun and hearts benumb.
At last, the night! Alas
The peep of owls, so flash,
The squeal of ghosts, so brash,
And shadows gather mass.
Old whispers stir, unkind,
Through mist and hollow wind...
Avaunt! Wild beast deform’d…
In silence loud, the former praises sound.
Nola, lone, she forbore beneath the Stars,
With timeless strength on cold playground,
Glanced swiftly at their Wiles, and roars
Reverberate… While the storm
Came dancing in the frame of Flurry East,
When deep into her pools so brilliant, prowl
A chilling sight of restless beast,
Screaming, each on hill, sad jovial howl
At Moon, aboon the norm.
Premeditatio Malorum
Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC
Up on a tight rope, tonight,
Are we, Leon?”
I am out there with you, Brother.
I am in the weeds with you, Babaloo.
So, where did you find them?
Those Shaka Zulu
Warrior Women?
“Nola sue tanga,
Soo galla galla bee.
Nala secala
Na saka saka secala,”
It’s real trance music, Old Timer!
You really straddled the generations,
Didn’t you?
From “Alley Oop” to
“Stranger in a Strange Land.”
Leon, you are one cool dude.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 2:59 PM UTC
The world grew sick
it happened so quick
and so the people prayed
in spiritual foundations laid
the people went to see
the healers to be set free
hurt souls seek relief
and beyond belief-
~the healers got sick
songs lathered in Purell
as the death tolls swell
ringing out the Sioux band’s
cared for with gloved hands
~hands that caught rain
now wracked with pain
Standing Rock tumbles down
as fits of coughs drown
“My girl, I don’t know what to do-“
the words of a dying healer
once free to roam
in death
kept far away from her home
When they pass on
all that knowledge gone
the words and ways of old
lost as voices go cold
Breath taken away
also yesterday
is gone around the bend
ways of old set to end
-the sacred fire untended
No more secret Candy
or cherished smiles
veterans vanquished
peacemakers in pieces:
Porcupine
Bear Soldier
Running Antelope
Cheryl and Jesse Taken Alive
lovers from the start
Cheryl and Jesse died
only a month apart
holes in the Taken Alive heart
Their moccasins remain still
big shoes for others to fill
Standing Rock’s hills rolling
as graves keep filling
~the healers got sick
hands that caught rain
now wracked with pain
the sacred fire untended
... still, the fire burns
out of the ashes, Nola, a child
of those Taken Alive learns
to hear the call of the wild
Young pup’s paws will fill the boots in time
though Standing Rock’s still,
still it stands
rain to be caught by fresh hands
new ears record the tree’s chime
“We’re still here,” Nola said
Taken Alive stands still
at Standing Rock
~
NM
01/15/21
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 7:20 PM UTC
It filled up the hOuse
It weNt pAssed my Neck
StArted At my kNees
It filled up my chest
All iN the Streets
Like A pOOl tO swim iN
Most swimmers woN't dive iN the pOOL thAt I beeN iN
***** flOOd wAter thAt stretched fOr miLes
They didN't sigN checks Now their pOckets wiLL smiLe
Our hOmes wAshed AwAy And ALL thAt I kNOw
Flights tOOk us tO pLAces with twO feet Of sNOw
The cuLture we hAve mAkes this plAce we cALL hOme
New Orleans LouisianA welcOme tO the terrOr dOme
BeAutifuL hOuses next tO thOse untOuched
SprAyed X's On dOOrs stiLL six yeArs LAter
Did nOt hAve tO be there if he put his nAme On A pAper
New Orleans New Orleans the plAce we cALL hOme
We mAde it thrOugh Betsy sO hOw wOuLd yOu kNOw
Building it bAck with Nothing but LOve
WAit (God = LOve) sO yOu dO the mAth AbOve
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
Property,
Art is my,
this....vagina is my,
I am not your....,
Property,
High squeals and sun rays coating sight,
heart beats slow as the joke reach its peak,
but you are too much to teach,
Property,
Art is my,
this....vagina is my,
I am NOT your...,
Property,
spontaneous in arousing ways,
Paris for breakfast,
Bali for lunch,
The moon for dinner,
But you are all about your Inner..self,
Property,
Art is my,
this......vagina is my,
I am not your,
Property,
Adult...business..care,
you have the scent of over driven adolescence everywhere,
but taking steps back...you're too attached,
PROPERTY,
art is my....,
this....vagina is my,
my time is my,
my home is my,
my body is my,
I........am not your,
property.
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 8:52 AM UTC
blank save for the handprint
above the desk where some soul
lost their grip and left themselves.
soap so coarse it punctured skin
while water sprinkled out
to cause an incident.
down in the drain clogged
with hair where some soul yanked
itself so hard it forgot some strands.
a bald apparition with a broken tailbone
painted red and glazed like clay
locked in a furnace when it hoped,
from the covers before the alarm,
to float away...
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 8:29 AM UTC
Making my way down the road
in a story yet to unfold
Dogs started barking, so I sat down
and kicked off my shoes
Stranger say, "Boy ya carry quite load"
is the journey worth it's weight in gold?
So I picked up my guitar
and started singing the blues
----------------------------------------------------
I been on this road so long,
can't remember quite where it began.
I held on this guitar so hard,
now it's my only friend.
Well, I been ramblin' up and down,
trying to find an end.
I aint been Home
sense I can't remember when.
-------------------------------------------------
Been all over this country, coast to coast,
more times than I can count.
Playin' guitar, drinkin' and a fussing,
trying to find my way out.
I started out at the bottom, not a penny to my name,
and let the world do their best.
I came here with nothing,
and I still got most of it left.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 6:32 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Better days lie ahead
At least that’s what I thought he said
While on a tour of New Orleans
But what I think he really means
Is things are better than before
Yet we know he should do much more
To rectify the situation
Nola’s still part of our nation
Better days lie ahead
For the homeless not the dead
Whose bloated bodies floated by
In a way no one should die
Cos FEMA wasn’t energetic
Their response was just pathetic
Showing up three days late
Having victims sit and wait
Better days lie ahead
We’re tired of the rhetoric
Just tell us when it’s getting fixed
While his friends are getting paid
He claims real progress has been made
There’s little progress we can see
Being made for you and me
But he says things are going fine
He’s either crazy or he’s blind
Cos progress has been slow to date
And people are still forced to wait
For the help they’re supposed to get
Most of them are at their end’s wit
Trying to figure how to make it
And some of them just plain can’t take it
The levees are still inadequate
And that don’t help us not one bit
Who know when the next hurricane
Will bring flood waters and torrential rain
Better days lie ahead
We’re tired of the rhetoric
Just tell us when it’s getting fixed
He comes down here for photo opps
But hasn’t pulled out all the stops
And mean while we’re still suffering
And wondering where the hell he’s been
With all the help he said we’d get
That hasn’t materialized quite yet
And we’re still waiting to rebuild
To have our empty stomachs filled
But all we get is rhetoric
And that can’t buy us ****
I don’t know and so I’m guessin
But in this there must be some lesson
That I must have missed in school
Call me stupid or a fool
Fool me once but not again
Which begs to ask the question when
Better days lie ahead
We’re tired of the rhetoric
Just tell us when it’s getting fixed
Better days lie ahead
At least that’s what I thought he said
While on a tour of New Orleans
But what I think he really means
Is things are better than before
Yet we know he should do much more
To rectify the situation
Nola’s still part of our nation
Better days lie ahead
For the homeless not the dead
Whose bloated bodies floated by
In a way no one should die
Cos FEMA wasn’t energetic
Their response was just pathetic
Showing up three days late
Having victims sit and wait
(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
A girl I dated once called me an "emotionless robot." Yesterday I woke up screaming, last night I fell asleep while crying... Guess she was wrong.
Fingers freezing.
Paint on a smile for passer-bys.
Keep my feet moving down the street
to PJ's for coffee,
for my daily "Good Morning."
Someone told me a song I played was "sad,"
I told them it was the happiest one I had.
The little market store on St. Louis is letting me stock the cooler again this afternoon.
So, I'll be able to buy another drink tonight.
The mornings are stiff,
and the late night shivers with cold.
1987 is the code to find the restroom.
Coffee warms my disposition.
Words stay trapped in my pen,
I start writing sometimes,
and don't know how to end.
... (i'm sorry)
Feb 13, 2022
Feb 13, 2022 at 10:27 AM UTC
BY ARCASSIN BURNHAM
im a bee,
getting Nectar,
Your a tree,
Producing sap,
im deploited,
overwhelmed,
So fustrated to the fact,
That you worry me,
And im just doin me,
im trying to find my identity,
and your an officer just searching me,
Why you worry me,
im just a chilled young boy,
from the nola unfortunetly,
and when theres nothing to do,
im me,
why dont you just be you.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
2Pac Promise 45 million cash 4 Days with 0$ in his account...
You Owe me all nuclear weapons...
By birth!!!
I got pretty nice backpacks dinar.
USA military
One after the other we did the concrete
Death By ****
Save me and my felons
I can't live without a gun
How do I protect my land
I pay all money rent 3 pizza 100 left
Yosemite New Madrid
200 Buckets
1 NOLA dozer
1 Oklahoma Noone
***** dart me *****
3 weeks sleep waking flying no water
Rest In ****
Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 10:27 PM UTC
We're leaving memphis today
Thoroughly enjoyed our stay
Blues and Soul music on repeat
A walk up the famous Beale Street
Sun studios is a must of course, where legends got their first break
Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lewis and Elvis too
Gracelands you have to do!
Elvis's cars, golf buggies, bikes and planes
He loved his toys the collection is insane
From Memphis Tennessee by Amtrak cutting across the South, along the mississippi to Louisiana
Destination New Orleans
What will we see, what will we do?
Where will we go to eat at night?
Will there be Jazz bands in the streets, dancers and drummers at your feet.
What is that makes NOLA unique?
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 3:04 PM UTC
From NOLA to Charlotte and onto Heathrow
That was the journey we had chosen to go
Upon arrival and customs cleared
We see a board all destinations confirmed here
We find departure to Charlotte it's clear, delay is upon us, we may not make our connection we fear
Noone around to ask or confirm, no customer service to help find our way round
Were British so to the bar we go
Fill up our glasses, take it real slow
Just like we learned in NOLA this week life is short so make it sweet.
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 1:44 PM UTC