“Cleaned a lot of plates in Memphis
pumped a lot of gas down in New Orleans,
but I never saw the good side of the city
till I hitched a ride on the river boat queen...”
The Mississippi’s quietly seething;
Cotton Blossom, tugs at her moorings...
paddle-steamer supreme as she is.
Way down Bourbon Street, Brennans –
closed; no tables free. Not this evening.
Shops, boarded up; the French Quarter –
a ghost town. Wrought-iron balustrades
soon to fade to reminiscences. ‘Good times,
upped and rolled away’. No tourists;
no takers for tacky souvenirs today.
The Moonwalk shines, electric-blue...
a slow moving river; magenta
and silver, flowing to infinity
as a water-melon moon, pale,
wan, and lustreless, slices through
a damson-coloured sky; wages war
upon an ‘open twenty-four-seven’
kind of a city. Blind to its waxing
and its waning; indifferent, till now,
to its pull on the tide.
Spatters raindrops on black,
plastic sacks at the entrance
to a thrift shop – unheeding
of the signs; jazz clubs – silent
as a clam. The blues is what’s on
everybody’s minds. Rats, scavenge
in the gutter; Big Mac, French fries;
they’re not that fussed with such
rich pickings and the prospect,
so instinct tells them, of even
better times in the offing.
Preservation Hall is hushed; holds
its own sweet breath; sans clarinet,
sans sax – sans musicians, all.
Somewhere, on the sidewalk, someone
shoots up, ‘kisses their creator’; rain
chokes the levees. The Superdrome
is packed to the gills...Except,
no Saints, and nobody's cheering;
the wind kicks up a storm, tonight.
For soon, Katrina will come...
and a tramp moves on, through
revolving doors.
Comments
jay2143 | March 3, 2011 - 20:25
Lovely piece.
Been there before and after. It's a magical place.
you have caught the sense of the city. My last
visit was in 2008 and things were just starting
to get better. Let the good times roll!!
skinner_jennifer | March 3, 2011 - 20:27
Wow! Tina,
this is brilliant, I think you have excelled
yourself with this one, a real true picture.
Jenny.
Silver Spun Sand | March 3, 2011 - 20:39
Thanks, Jenny. Writing this poem brought all the memories of those far-off days flooding back...an unintended pun, I assure you;-)
I can still smell and hear the place...once bitten, forever smitten, is certainly the case with New Orleans;-)
Glad you enjoyed and that I managed to convey something of its 'specialness';-)
Tina
Silver Spun Sand | March 3, 2011 - 22:52
'Let the good times indeed roll'! I was there in the early seventies, having driven from friends in Pennsylvania to friends in Metarie (suburbs of New Orleans). They were there until recently, or indeed, until Katrina forced them to finally sell up and move on.
It is a magical place...especially Brennans and Preservation Hall. The atmosphere - like nothing else. Fortunately, I think the French Quarter at least escaped the worst of the hurricane, but the friends that I mention in Metarie, sadly lost a member of their family to its fury.
Glad to hear that things are picking up there again. I should love to go back, but don't suppose I ever will.
Thanks again for your lovely comment.
Tina;-)
maggyvaneijk | March 8, 2011 - 17:38
This is both very sad and very stunning, I fantasize about going to New Orleans so this helps fuel my imagination, until then I only have Treme to watch (a great television series based in New Orleans if you haven't seen it yet!)
Silver Spun Sand | March 8, 2011 - 19:10
Thanks for that, maggy. Glad I brought a bit of New Orleans to you;-)
Tina
hilary west | March 18, 2011 - 23:27
Excellent, but no cherry. What are they thinking of ?
Silver Spun Sand | March 19, 2011 - 09:52
Hi there, Hilary! You have brightened up my Saturday.
Your comment means a lot to me. Thank you, so very much;-)
Tina
celticman | March 19, 2011 - 11:18
emmm cherry obsessed, but never mind!
Silver Spun Sand | March 19, 2011 - 11:37
;-) Many a true word, and all that. Ta, ever so, anyway.
Tina