Blood and Water

[redpond]

blood and water


they say they found Ameila Earhart
and Jimmy Hoffa
holding hands
floating down the New Orleans river.
they say they found voodoo dolls
and skeletons in the closet
holding hands,
up to their necks with mud
and the blood
of roses from Longe Vue Gardens,
with only stuck needles
bright as porch lights waiting
for booty calls,
floating down the New Orleans river.
they say they found missing socks
and bikini tops
and lids and caps of everything from BiC pens to mayonnaise jars
to key holes of jealous lovers
holding hands as tight
as buds of flowers.
when you lose everything you don’t want anything anymore
except each other
going down the New Orleans river.
they say they found William Faulkner's typewriter
and Tennessee William’s reading glasses
and Carson McCullers’ pencil stubs
drowned in teeth marks
like rinds of a pomegranate
and Blanche Dubois’s pistol whipped heart
and all the dirty gardenias of T-shirts
going down the New Orleans river
with Stella gone,
with wind playing castanets
out of streetcars of undesirables,
with all the 911 messages
left unanswered in empty liquor bottles,
and “what you’re gonna do when
the water comes
for you
bad boys, bad boys,”
going down sucking on wild licorice
of the New Orleans river,
and all the potentates and sweet ladies
of jazz from Gospel
to Dixieland wailing out
the long parade of a happy funeral
for drowned rhymes
as if anything
music or poem
could ever be written on a sheet of
paper to brandish the awful tears on streets of water
to burn the fire out of the rain and wind
going down
the New Orleans river.

[emuse]

Welcome and oh ..... this is good! You keep the reader enthralled with disparate images that all connect to give the flavor of New Orleans in the aftermath. I love this poem, the voice, the rhythms and images are fresh and alive. My comments are on a few things which take me out of the read (see below), your lineation (which I feel makes the read of the poem too abrupt) and lastly a way to end the poem more powerfully. Your choice of course. I I think if you are going to put in punctuation, you should capitalize. Here goes:

blood and water

They say they found Ameila Earhart
and Jimmy Hoffa holding hands
floating down the New Orleans river.
they say they found (a) voodoo doll
and (a) skeleton in the closet

(I think the singular works to your advantage here. The image of many dolls and skeletons detracts from the singular referebce to Earhart and Hoff just prior.)

holding hands, up to their necks with mud
and the blood of roses from Longe Vue Gardens,
with [only] stuck needles bright as porch lights
waiting for booty calls, floating down
the New Orleans river.

They say they found missing socks
and bikini tops and lids and caps of everything
from BiC pens to mayonnaise jars to key holes
of jealous lovers holding hands as tight
as buds of flowers going down
the New Orleans river.

Great images here, one after another.

[when you lose everything you don’t want anything anymore
except each other] (Editorial and I would remove.)

They say they found William Faulkner's typewriter
and Tennessee William’s reading glasses
and Carson McCullers’ pencil stubs drowned in teeth marks
like rinds of a pomegranate and Blanche Dubois’s pistol
whipped heart and all the dirty gardenias of T-shirts
going down the New Orleans river, with Stella gone,
with wind playing castanets out of streetcars of undesirables,
with all the 911 messages left unanswered in empty liquor bottles,
and “what you’re gonna do when the water comes
for you bad boys, bad boys,” going down sucking
on wild licorice of the New Orleans river.

And all the potentates and sweet ladies of jazz from Gospel
to Dixieland wailing out the long parade of a happy funeral
for drowned rhymes as if anything
music or poem could ever be written
on a sheet of paper to brandish the [awful] tears
on streets of water, to burn the fire out of the rain.

(I would end on this superiod image. "to burn the fire out of the rain.
Killer line that leaves the reader sated.

[and wind going down
the New Orleans river.]

Hope anything helpful to you. More work can be done on the lineation but that's a job for heavy labor

e

[Elphin]

Welcome - very impressive piece. I can feel that river flowing through the writing, the detritus and the pain.

Great attention grabbing first lines and good use of language, images throughout. Its tough to crit anything except:

Agree with emuse, a new stanza at Wm Faulkner would work well and also about the ending lines. A couple of nits

You have used holding hands a couple of times
the Bic pens line stands out visually due to its length and not sure it adds anything as you already have the great missing socks and bikini tops rhyme to cover the mundane.

Look forward to more from where this came from.

Elphin

[k-j]

Some awesome images here: the "dirty gardenias of T-shirts", the "wind playing castanets". Great first line, Earhart is the perfect name to open with, lost, wild, alone.

I agree with emuse that punctuation should entail caps, but I'd say this is a rare occasion where you could get rid of the punctuation - and no need for separate stanzas in my view either - because the shape of this suits its subject, long, drifting, bulging with variety.

A few things weren't quite so hot:

- "to key holes of jealous lovers / holding hands" - a bit oblique for me, I can't conceive of a key hole floating down a river, why the lovers would be jealous, or why, if they were, they'd be holding hands.

- "the 911 messages / left unanswered in empty liquor bottles" - an unnecessary and slightly laboured pun which feels tired to me. I hear message in a bottle and unfortunately I just think of Sting.

- the "cops" theme song - much as I love "cops", I'm not sure it belongs here.

Love the ending: strong, bold writing. Overall, really really good.