Long New orleans Poems
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I saw him in a park in New Orleans, a bottle clutched in his hand.
A man of the streets, no family, no home, no land.
As I stood there and watched him, I couldn’t help but wonder why.
Had he given up on life, was there no reason to try?
Did it come from his youth, when he tried to keep up with a trend?
Or some failure in his life when he lost and didn’t win.
Did he have a lost love, and found comfort in a drink?
Or, maybe a war with memories is too painful to think.
With people passing by, pretending that they don’t see.
He lies there in his fog, in the shade of that old tree.
Is his life so hopeless, with all the churches about?
I consider what would happen, if I just held my hand out.
I wonder if he would take it, stand up and change that day?
Or, let out a string of curses and rapidly, run away?
I guess I’ll never know because I turned and walked away.
But, I’m sure to think about him when I travel down that way.
The clouds are rolling and the rivers are flowing
The birds are singing and the bells are ringing
I have come to this place to unite the human race
But some people have overstepped the boundaries
And have gone past their places and get entwined
in another phase. I have witnessed the sun and the
moon crossing path in the middle of the dark and
the wind mesmerizing and singing a bountiful hymn
One cast plays the tune for the man that is coming
From the moon. You cannot trust the moon walkers
and the sky stalkers who take rocks to the moon
and pour water on ships to prove that there is water
to swim. Why do you want to seize power in an hour?
When I have spent forty years researching rocks and
Water on the moon, you are space copycat and
And a secret conniving rat
There is a solace in the moon that is taking shape
And moving towards the middle of gate,
The big band is playing the New Orleans jazz sound
And the visitors are moving around,
They are walking up down Kitchen Street
And looking for something to eat
They are showing off their cultural clout
And walking around with a nasty frown
I have not seen a parade since I got here
And the dancers and hookers have disappeared
There is nothing to share and the rum is drying up
And the people are running around with much fuss
I can tell that the end is near and the mountains
will soon disappear, victory will be on the run
And we will have the much needed fun
Bad men will get up and run and hand over their
guns, the fussy cussy people will run away
And the music will slowly fade away
The streets will left bare and empty and
Shops will hold on to their misery
The town will shake in the middle of the night
and the wind will blow in full magnitude
And a new energy will flow through the miserable town
I will board the plane and fly away in the middle of the day
I can see the seagulls dancing around on the shores
endorsing the creeps with their long beaks
Busting it up from the ocean floor
The ice is melting and ocean fish is surfacing
Multitudes of then appears from the bottom of the ocean.
Flipping and flopping on the dry land and walking hand in hand
That is the way they meet.
Hurricane Harvey landed his punches to the left of me
Irma struck with fierce winds and rain; havoc on my right
I escaped the wrath of those hellions ~ now there's Nate.
Nate formed in an unusual area, not known for brutal storms,
but he's coming for a visit soon. I hope he doesn't stay around
very long. I didn't invite him to my city, so he's being rude
by showing up this weekend and ruining everyone's plans.
I pray he's not as devastating as the evil two he follows,
but hurricanes do as they please. Wham! Bam! What a mess...
putting us all under stress.
He'll huff and puff and try to blow my house down.
He seems to be in a hurry cuz he's moving with some speed.
I'll be glad to see the tail end of him. A one-eyed cyclops,
a meanie and a fiend, who'll probably rob me of my power.
If you don't see me around, you know where I can be found...
sweltering in New Orleans heat because Nate visited my town.
10/6/17
It is the only time we get to laugh at black
So de rigeur at funerals and stogy old photography.
Take Dixie Land at home in New Orleans
Parading back of happy brass from marble sculpted sepulchers.
A mansion in mirage, a wavy misty rambling of rooms.
Their mirrors: windows to another, conjured world.
An agitated specter's greasy lipstick pleads.
How silly in its backward gibberish.
Flies frozen in some floes of ice cube trays
Or eyeballs docked adrift along a punch bowl rim.
In morgues, contracting muscles practice sitting up.
Fingers twitch impatient to be dressed in Sunday's best.
Around grave yards are cemetery stones
Jauntily askew, a sporty take on plumb
Due to a lack of rebar steel or poured cement.
More foundational than wood and bone alone.
Masks flash from unknown alley ways.
Our innards struggle up inside our throats
Suffocated quiet, still, we ache to catch so thin
A claustrophobic breath to be made so easily afraid.
I woke this morning to the sound of sleet tapping on my windows but after several minutes there had been a hush. I looked out and saw a soft blanket of snow. Not in itself cause for wonder, but in New Orleans it's very unusual. It was only a couple of inches, but it was the impetus for this write.
* * * * * *
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They twirled in the swirling wind
No costume worn, ever twinned
each a beauty that transcends ~
each crystal from the sky descends
I danced among them like a child
filled with wonder, I was beguiled
until I realized and sorrowfully felt
my touch was spurring them to melt
From my window I watched, enthralled
as feathery fliers they lay sprawled
safe from the heated warmth of me
a flock of snowflakes, a Winter flurry
Premiered at Rugged Old Crossroads Community Mission,
New Orleans, LA – 10/16/2013
ACT 1
SEEKING LABYRINTHIA
BLUE JACKET BON VOYAGE
SAILING THE SEVEN SEAS
SHIP IN A BOTTLE
ISLAND OF DON DI VON KAIRE
BOX WINE BLUES
THREE HAPPY ITALIANS
VOYAGE
SUNSET BALLAD
ACT 2
LABYRINTHIA
NIKITA SOMETHING
VIGILENT MOJO
MEMPHIS BELLE
UN PEU COMME LA PLUIE
ZULLY’S APOLOGY
ROUGH WOMEN ACTION
XERXES SURVEYS HIS REALM
INTERMISSION FOOL
ACT 3
BAAAD POETS
FUNERAL STRUT
BLIND WILLIE’S SKETCHPAD
MAKING MANDY BEG
TOO MANY WOMEN
CURRICULUM VITAE
FAT CITY KITTY CAT
I WAS A TEENAGE SHAKESPEARE
SHE’S THE CENTERFOLD
We try to do some local things
Whenever we’re away,
Although we’re clearly tourists
On a short and jam-packed stay.
So we signed up for a cooking class
And watched a chef prepare
Gumbo, jambalaya and pralines,
Some Cajun-Creole fare.
It all was most delicious
And Chef Austin was the best.
We left there more than satisfied
And happily impressed.
Not needing any dinner,
We checked out some local jazz,
Where Tom Hook, a piano player,
Entertained us with pizzazz.
It’s wonderful to have a chance
To try out something new
As a little break before you’re back
To what you always do.
My friends said C’mon let’s go, let’s head on down to Mexico.’
We’ll drink up all their tequila and we’ll snort up all their blow.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, out to Aspen, Colorado.
We’ll snuggle with some bunnies, and ski ‘til our buzz starts to go.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, it’s cold under this Missouri snow.
Let’s go to Miami and party ‘til we run out of dough.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, those Las Vegas lights are all aglow.
We’ll gamble away all our cash and leave with nothing to show.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, let’s head on down south to New Orleans.
Drink all night at Mardi Gras, get the drunkest we’ve ever been.
My friends said c’mon let’s go, to the sands of California’s beach.
Where the wine flow like water, and all our dreams will be in reach.
Chorus:
Why don’t you pack yourself a bag and let’s get on down the line.
We’ll worry about tomorrow later…but today we’re gonna feel just fine.
I said you guys go on without me, maybe I will make it there someday.
But now I have responsibilities, and life keeps getting in the way.
I can’t pay the rent and the utilities if I don’t go to work today.
Maybe when I’m a little older, then I’ll have time to come out and play.
With my wife, four kids and a dog, my life has turned out just fine.
I don’t worry ‘bout tomorrow ‘cause I always toed the line.
I’m ready to pack my bag and use the money I never spent.
I have the time to go see, all those places I never went.
Tried to get in touch with my friends, so that maybe we could meet.
But Dave lives at Bellevue, Blue sleeps in a box out on some street.
Dan didn’t shake the habit and OD’d a year ago today.
Frankenstein’s in jail somewhere and that’s where he’s going to stay.
Chorus:
I said you guys go on without me, maybe I will make it there someday.
But now I have responsibilities, and life keeps getting in the way.
Glad they went without me, while I stayed and toed the line.
Because tomorrow my friends is finally here, and I am feeling just fine.
I’m going to pack my bag so I can get on down the line.
I don’t have to worry about tomorrow , and today I’m feeling just fine.
© Jerry Brotherton
i know a young girl
lives just up da ill
she a black an white child
she got uge black eyes
wit lots of white surrounden dem
an' she got tick black air
an' er skin's a lonely gray
she got big plump lips
no man ever touched
cause she still jus' a child
an' dat girl she wear
a sweater white
'er mom made er
da black 'n white girl
live just up the ill from me
even er ome is black 'n white
man dat girl
she don't show color no ow
dat girl in black 'n white
oh yeah!
all black 'n white
oh yeah!
till she bring out er violin
er full colored playin' instrumen
dat ting got chromaticity
oh yeah!
dat wat I said
oh yeah!
chromaticity
dat der's wat dat violin got
wen she play dat ting
everytin goes bright
whoa dem strings dey speak
whoa dem strings dey sing
den dat violin color er world
dat wat make 'er special
dat violin
you got to see er
when she hug dat ting
when she make it sing
an' da world she is peace
wen da black 'n white girl
play er colored violin
chromaticity
dat wat dat girl got
wen she play so sweet
wit the violin to er ear
an' da traffic stops
an' da crowds don talk
wen da girl in black 'n white
wen dat girl she paint da town
make dat violin talk
charmin' all da ears
ow she do dat
make notes dance in the sky
ow she do dat
soothes the savage beast
ow she soothe my ears
ow she make docile dis devil me
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!!!
i don wanna do bad
wen dat violin sings
ow she do dat
dat girl wit dose
magic strings
26~12~2014
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Contest Name: Let The Music Play On
How wonderful! God sees our worthless vessels,
yet they carry his message and light into the world.
O wonder! God moves our feet, directs our paths.
Our minds must not hinder nor slack. They must
attack the dust, muddy mess, and all life’s elements.
Special, me? If you flip my lid, there’s a dynamo
treasure trove inside. Jewels of the universe reside
within, deposited daily by the Holy Spirit. The gems
of God’s Word are precious, spectacles, reminders.
Blessings! Tucked away, dusted off, to heaven or bust.*
Don’t hold on tight but release fistfuls of holy dollars.
There’s much more where those came from. Fill
your jar daily then open up and let out the sun, moon
and stars. Don’t mistake a handheld diamond,
sapphire, ruby for a god. It has no power over you,
under you nor around you but God’s power lights
up the universe. We borrow it to light our houses
but most assuredly we can never illuminate our own eyes.
God lit them and will darken them. Take care if you want
to see the light of heaven colorize your eyes once again.
1/31/2022
*The term “or bust,” used in traveling in a vehicle.
People would make signs, “To New Orleans or bust,”
for example to indicate they would do
everything possible to get there.