I’M in Nawlins Y’all


Crossing the twin spans towards New Orleans releases a feeling in me that is hard to describe. The first cypress tree ignites a deep burning pride. A pride which reminds me of why I continue to go home. Yes Katrina destroyed New Orleans but it’s rising again. Slowly it’s kicking the ashes away and blooming anew.  I am saddened by the crime and poverty in this jewel of the American south. However, those disheartening facts cannot dampen the spirit of the city or its citizens.

When I cross the state line jazz and blues integrates with my cells. A swaying motion infects my arms like a second line in a New Orleans cemetery. I taste gumbo, red beans, shrimp po-boys, and hot sausage. Red beans are a warm plate of happy and southern hospitality. Doubloons and Zulu coconuts ring in my ears. “Throw me something mister” sings from loud mouth folks drunk on liquor and the insanity that is the French Quarter. The late Professor Long Hair is beating his piano. A mad man of music caught in the magic of New Orleans.  A New Orleans drawl spills out the mouth like praline candy crumbled over ice cream.  Bounce music rumbles out of my minivan and spills on the pavement as my wife and I enter our playground. Sweet shops owned by countrified old woman that sold black and white cookies in sandwich bags still form pictures in my mind. Sucking on plastic cups of deliciousness with the strange moniker of huck a buck or frozen cups are thoughts vivid enough to put me in a sugar induced high. Yes I love my city and a few months ago I was reminded of such as my wife and I took a classic New Orleans bus ride to the Gulf Coast. The cities flavor infested the vehicle and gave the atmosphere a spirit all its own. Folks were pumping laughter from their very soul. Good natured jokes flew like confetti filled hand grenades. The bus rocked all the way there and on the way back. I love the murkiness of the swamps and the moss on the cypress trees. I met the mother of my children there and stomped the yard of Xavier University when I was in undergrad. Nurtured by a late mother I dearly miss and a father whom sacrificed to make sure we had everything and more. The city is attached to my heart and that is why I wrote the poem below. Enjoy

I’m in Nawlins Yall


The rhythm of red beans

A gumbo of lives

Intertwined in southern bayous

And delicious soul filling blues

Bring home hues of Mardi Gras

I’m in Nawlins Y’all

Katrina memories still vivid

But lives are mending

As jazz clubs hop and sway

Today I am Nawlins Yall

A town which continues to call my name


Aug 1st 2015