Hurricain Katrina devestated a city I was immensely fond of in 2005- this was the poem that I wrote afterwards.
Long She lay upon the
Delta, warm and lazy in the sun
Long before the busy
White Ones came with whisky, beads, and guns
She was home to fox and
‘gator, secret mole and cunning snake
And the Tchoupitoulas
Indians built their wickiaps by the lake
Life was good there for
the Indian, close to nature, wild and free
Then the White Ones came
to settle from their lands across the sea
Built they houses, did
the White Ones, built of stone and plastered brick
And there upon the high
ground came the rest and clustered thick
Came the trader, came the
trapper, one to sell and one to buy
Came the thieves and
whores and gamblers quick to steal it. Then the sky
Growled over them with
thunder, wind and lightning followed fast,
And the waters rose upon
them till Her mood was safely past
Then the Whites called in
their wise men, called in workers by the score
Built the levees and the
barricades along the water’s shore
Tamed the river (as they
boasted) made the lakeshore safe (they thought)
And they built and built
more houses on the new dry land they’d bought
Then She yawned and
gently mocked them, with a mother’s tender smile,
When her children build
sandcastles where the tide has gone awhile.
They were clever, were the White Ones,
smart as foxes, then and now
Brought the Black Men there for
servants when the Indian would not bow
Chained and beaten were the Black Men,
sold like cattle, sold for gain
Yet within their hearts was music born
of loneliness and pain
Oh yes at first was hatred, and the
races kept apart,
Till one by one She touched them, made
Her magic in each heart
Made the Whites a little browner, made
the Blacks bit more white,
As they found each others’ beauty in
the warm and secret night.
Then faraway in Washington, a
government awoke
To the bit of Southern Territory owned
by foreign folk
They were dry men, dry and hollow,
counted acres, counted beans
And they bought Louisiana and the city
New Orleans
Did She care who owned Her? Who was
faithless? Who had sinned?
It was all just so much chatter, bits
of paper in the wind
What were governments and treaties?
What were wars and rude alarums?
She knew well who were Her people, kept
them safely in Her arms
She awoke each heart to music, if the
soul was there to sing,
Gave them art and love and laughter,
and old gods for honouring
Turned the cold and fogs of winter to
the blaze of Carnival
And death’s grief became rejoicing if
the grief was there at all
But like a woman She had sisters,
though They walked in different form,
And the greatest One was mistress all
of tempest rain and storm
With a sibling’s bitter envy, this
One said, ‘O sister fair,’
‘I gone brew a little breeze up, blow
the nits from out you hair’
The air was churned, the clouds grew
black, the waves to rags were torn
And out upon the great Gulf Sea, an
awful wind was born
Then word was passed from the hollow
men, from those who counted beans
That the mother of all storms was
headed straight for New Orleans
Oh, some packed up and tried to leave,
and some fell on their knees
And prayed both high and lowly. But
what prayers could appease
A Power like the Hurricane or swerve it
from its path?
Yet still, She heard, and tried Her
best, to calm her sister’s wrath
Who knows what sort of deal was struck
between those awful kin?
For the storm’s worst fury passed Her
by, then let the waters in.
And some were drowned and buried and
their houses washed away
But those within Her heart were saved
to face the bitter day
Leaderless and scared they clung to
shelter if they could
And lost among the wreckage searched
for water and for food
The strong preyed on the weak ones,
fearful deeds were daily done
And the dead piled up unburied in the
equatorial sun
In Washington the hollow men sent
troops from near and far
While the Chief of them played Country
tunes upon his gilt guitar
They brought guns instead of water,
body bags in place of bread
And told them all they had to leave,
the living and the dead
For those who loved New Orleans there
was pain and bitter tears
For it seemed that the rebuilding, if
at all, might last for years
But gradually the levees rose, the
filth was pumped away,
As helicopters dipped and rose like
dragonflies at play
The State Police in boredom ceased to
knock on shattered doors
The troops yawned in their tanks and
jeeps and dreamed of other wars
The lights came on by ones and twos,
and sparkled in the night
While News Crews packed their bags and
left like vultures taking flight
And those who fled to exile or survived
the Super Dome
Await the day She calls at last Her
chastened children home.