PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Wow,

a brand new notebook

to fill with tales

of Dead trips

and empty hot sauce containers

and some adventure died

and I forgot it

for awhile

and lost my way

The rebellion ceased to exist

in even the simplest moments

and a part of me

did die that day

and I recover full force

to find myself

on the Mississippi River

celebrating Faulkner

and Mark Twain

but the Dixieland jazz

just wasn’t enough

to please my soul anymore

Streets of the French Quarter

with their breath of centuries

in the bygone eras

we all reminisce

within our subconscious

It really isn’t all that deep

to get by on voodoo

with subtle spells cast

I can’t recite out loud

through the saxophones

and accordions and violins

that are all singing

their individual song

I got my mojo in hand

but I’m not too sure

if I should go there

just yet tonight

I’m still another couple
Abita Purple Hazes away

from doing something like that

as the easy women

work their hustles

and I’m innocent enough

to fall for their wiles

but I have fun

in their success

even though I pity them

to a certain extent

because all of us

have had our souls

run down like that

if you really

give it some honest thought

Experience sours the growth

as we all battle

to get through the night

still in one piece

and I still manage

to leave the place

with a smile on my face

4-25-98