Pen and Paper: Les eaux noires

In tribute to the Saints victory at the Super Bowl I dug up this poem I wrote just after Katrina hit.  We must not forget that there are still those who suffer, still those whose lives were forever altered, and still those in need.  I offer this poem as tribute for those lost in the hopes that by remembering them we can prevent ever seeing such devastation and such blatant disregard for the lives of the poor and colored from ever happening again.

Les eaux noires¹


Black water over jazz
my invisible city          hidden skyline       flowing away
into the sea you go.
I am here Mother.
Maman, ne laissant pas votre enfant.²


Mes frères, mon soeurs, ne vont pas.³
Siblings that share the blood of a vanishing mother
You are with the fled, si vous êtes blanc.⁴
But I, ľenfant foncé⁵, am with the forsaken.

Je suis oublié⁶, by all those I love.
Damned to have the sounds of
sidewalks, levees, and waterways flood my ears;
Ľeau remplissant ma bouche, ma gorge, mes poumons.⁷


Black waters over jazz
once blue and foamy white.
Backland waters, darkened
with my floating flesh.
Into the sea I go
because the white waters have filled my mouth
Ainsi personne ne peut m'entendre et me sauver.⁸


Wait for me.
Si vou plait, attente.⁹
______________________________________
¹ The black waters
²  Mommy, don't leave your baby
³  My brothers, my sisters, don't go
⁴  If you are white
⁵  The dark child
⁶  I am forgotten
⁷  Water filling my mouth, my throat, my lungs
⁸  So nobody can hear and save me
⁹  Please, wait.