Back in the attic again today. This poem is from the days when I lived in New Orleans prior to Katrina.
Upon the roof high above it all
I look below and ache to call
Please come to me from where you will
I'm way up here awaiting still
You see I reign above it all
For fear that love will make me fall
For wanting more than can be given
For seeking what I know as Heaven
In this place where darkness reigns
Where city lights go untamed
Right next to where the Mississippi runs
Where the sound of Blues can come undone
Alas I'm where I ought to be
My silhouette high above the trees
With eyes shining in the midnight blue
Wishing for more than I could use
Here is happiness in a smile dressed well
In the facade of a lady in her own Hell
For to take less would be unfair
To this Southern woman who waits up here
Its Blues at Midnight while New Orleans sleep
And way up here this Rebel weeps.
Your spirit oozes from the pores of your outer being, allowing me to go with you on a wonderful, magic carpet ride through the darkened light of another's. New Orleans always gives me that sense of Mystic darkness, where curiosity seems to be the enemy lurking.
I love your writing too, Susan!
God Bless,
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
Many cities are being brought into the fires and floods of change. The severe droughts actually bringing cities to a place where they run out of water is going to bring modern society to a place it has never been before. There are great forces at work in this world and this great country - change on a global scale is approaching.
You must have a real cool attic Belle - so many gems from your past to share.
Blessings ...
Richard
Wow Susan, as always whether it be the swamps and the glades, the mansions and cotton fields or the city lights, you always manage to take us on a magical tour of the most wonderful places with your spirit resting on your arm...
Even for those who never lived there, memories weep with poignancy over what has happen to our lady of the night. Mine are old, and worth saving, for they will never come, again... for so many reasons. Your poetic revisiting brings to mind that special aura one could feel in FORMER New Orleans. I like thinking that younger generations will know in some way how you and I felt about being with the Old Girl. This is great imaging, and up to your standards, too.
- Bill
Perhaps I was feeling some of your pain this evening my dear. I know this is an older poem, but there is some sadness here..Be well my dear, and know I am here for you if you ever need anything!
Peace, Love, and Light,
Amber "V"
A people’s heart can be found in their poetic words. In history men and women have stood firmly upon their soapboxes and street corners, rallying the deepest beliefs of people to rise up and be heard. The poetrypages.com has offered that voice a new
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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A beautiful city with no love.
Ron
Peace & Love be with you
William
Hope all is better. Kathy
I love your writing too, Susan!
God Bless,
Love and Peace~
Kimmy~
You must have a real cool attic Belle - so many gems from your past to share.
Blessings ...
Richard
Fee
God bless.
Paul
- Bill
your hope. Vividly written. Love, Pierre
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Peace, Love, and Light,
Amber "V"
Katrina was a Bitch..
Walt
Too much life there for sorrow…well done