New Orleans
Learn more about other poetry terms
Hands made of bronze steel
braided at the knuckles with soot and rust
heels coated with a poultice of clay
night drenched skin
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 ... !?!
I've heard it used to be funeral music
Born in New Orleans
Now it's a groove
We have our deep-voiced singers
And low saxophones
It doesn't really make you blue
But it sounds like the color
Sky Fades Away
String are left to decay
Trails end, rails bend
Suddenly time melts away
I was on the train to New Orleans
When I saw a girl that was in my dreams
The air is sharp with winter anticipationComets with tails blazing: stage lightsHit upon the crowd, wondrousHis hair is Spanish moss thatHangs heavy from the oaks,festooned in beads and baubles
Within the turn of a page, I’m transported to 1920’s New Orleans.
Soft pastel ribbons that adorn the corn silk curls of the girls passing by catch my eye as I inhale the thick scent of burning cigars.
