Kommando Poet

02/13/2018

A Child Asking Questions of an Adult
on St. Charles Avenue at Jackson.

Why are some parades held in the night,
While different parades take place during the day?
That is because some parades, they're rollin' for the Sun,
And some processions, they float for to see the Moon.
Can you say when the next parade
Will finally be coming our way?
I can hear the drumline comin', rumblin' from Napoleon
So, the next parade will be passing through real soon.

How come some parades take place during the day
While other parades are held at night?
That is because some parades choose to march for the Moon,
While other processions ride high, excited to see the Sun..
How can we tell when the next parade
Will finally be coming into sight?
If you listen, for a minute, to the distant drumline drummin'
You will hear that the parade has already begun.

08/21/2017

The Saint Alphonsus Parish chimes,
proudly they share with me the time

07/28/2017

...movin a little slow this month but would be totally remiss if I didn't drop something on this page today for Penny! Happy Birthday to the beautiful lady who spent more than half of her life with Dave and is the mother of their two amazing kids. May the next 40 bring you as much joy as your heart can hold. XO

07/15/2017

Above My Second Floor Balcony

Up there, above my second floor balcony
Facing out towards Magazine Street
There stands an old tree to the left of me
An huge oaken umbrella fanning out I see
Sprouting in brown and gray and green
These Summer months of June and July
Down here by Old Man River's side
Must have just went and meandered on by
And these weeks with their warm, windy ways
Have, too, blown through many rainy days
(Almost every day here is a day of rain)
Recently we entered the season of the Hurricane
Like a presence almost always moving nearly
Here amongst the residents of the crescent, it seems,
And so quickly become filled these slow, low brick streets
Here in this stately city beneath The Sea.
Yet, always is that hot Southern Sun ready
To burn with a blaze that is steaming and steady
So, while out here when I spend time standing
Out up on this raised wrought-iron landing
I do appreciate all of that dryad made shade
As the shadows shelter my sweltering cottage's face
And all across the courtyard far they are splayed
Certainly, still, during different times of the day
(For even when storming, the rain may well wane)
One will find that often there will still be
Here and there points where one will still see
That the Sun's dapplings do through the leaves beam
So, although the boughs offer up their service for free
I still find myself hoping that huge ole oak tree
It without a bit of intended treachery
Does not up and decide to just fall flat down on me
From up there above my second floor balcony.

06/18/2017

After The Storm Had Left New Orleans

After the storm's full, fearsome roar
had cracked open a gash in the sky, leaving the heavens torn,
and the gods' huge electric weapons did gleam garish
ripping wide, then roughly restitching the atmosphere.
After the storm slowed somewhat more,
when away from my window the wet winds were borne,
I went out to roam the old pathways of the parish,
over yonder across the Irish Channel from here

After the storm sorta' ceased to pour,
the drenching becoming just thin enough to ignore,
I, at 7 feet above the level of the sea,
set off to catch the 7:00 bells before they had begun.
After the storm through the streets had tore.
I went to ride the redbrick canyons once more,
traveling headed up steadfast Constance Street
there stand the temples steaming, still heated from the Sun.

06/11/2017

White, Blue, Green and Yellow
(Benediction for The Lower Garden District)

Why am I trying at writing in my restroom,
in there tapping away at that fancy typewriter?
Well, it turns out that space holds a pleasant view,
tucked away by the toilet, sink and shower.
It's a veritable vista of white, blue, green and yellow.
It seems that whenever I am sittin'
just below the level of my lofty window,
with the parted curtains full open,
that my always straying eyes have been often
beckoned to look up at the sky
for to view the fingers of treetop hands
waving slowly to and fro and to and...
greeting the lumbering clouds as they stroll by.
I stared... stopping my tapping, and pondered
those cottony wayfarers' wanderings.
Paused in mid-verse stream for only a moment, though,
then that moment was gently broken
by the bells of St. Mary of the Assumption
as they spoke suddenly, subtly rupturing
the silent clouds' soft rolling.
Celebratory sounds permeating the noon hour
with a peacefully ringing round of tolling.
Twelve times chiming loudly over the leafy towers,
then drifting down into the cool, dark bowers
all around the Neighborhood of the Nine Muses.
As everything flows together, fluid,
I see white, blue, green and yellow
through my half-open little window.
I see blue, white, yellow and green
as this unexpected scene offers itself up to me.
I see yellow,green, white and blue
from the bathroom of my third floor bedroom.
I see green, yellow, blue and white
Way up where I perch in the tree's canopy height
I hear the metallic tones as the old parish bells ring;
I see white, blue, yellow and green.
Yes, through my half-open, little window
I see white, blue, green and yellow.

06/08/2017

Yesterday I made a move which I hope will allow me to progress to the next level in my search for truth in poetry. I put a small table by the window in my tiny bathroom as a new writing spot. Then, I sat in my bathroom and proceeded to write a poem about writing a poem in my bathroom. The possibilities may be endless. I will keep you updated.

03/08/2016

Different version of Barkin'' Trio

12/06/2015

This is a test of The Kommando Poet Warning System - This is only a test. Stand by for further announcements.

12/06/2015

11/15/2015

see ya' in NOLA