New Orleans/ House of the Rising Sun

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem doesn't really follow the storyline of the song House of the Rising Sun, but I liked the idea of New Orleans as a setting.

Its about a character who sees this house and is reminded of his 'ideal woman', a person he has created in his mind. Hope you enjoy reading it :)

Submitted: July 01, 2010

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Submitted: July 01, 2010

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New Orleans/House of the Rising Sun
 
Jamaican spice incense pipes through
Windows of the midnight-white villa:
The famous House of the Rising Sun/
I stand in the cobbled blue streets,
Reminded about Mademoiselle’s
Bedroom, the smell of her marijuana
Mixed with orange blossom perfume.
 
Gutter water falls off the balconied,
Flower covered façade, dead weight
Dripping slowly down the green slate/
Similarly, tears used to run down
Mademoiselle’s sloping, pale face
When she observed any hate, or sat
Quietly reading beautiful beat-poetry.
 
From behind the open French blinds,
People sit circular, playing cards in
Painted rooms while smoking cigars/
In Mademoiselles’ mind, Ginsberg sat
With Dylan in similar rooms, debating
Depression remedies and musical
Melodies, into the early hours of 1970.
 
In glowing, torch-lit porticos, couples
Entwine tightly, on the silver cobbles
Of warm, midnight New Orleans/
But this just reminds me (lonely, grey
Zombie), how I’m alone in this city...
Mademoiselle is imaginary, living
Only in my bright, midnight dream.


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