Red City Barn

Incessant,
the serenata of engines
rolling down and up Broadway
lulls me from sleep;

except on Friday nights.

At the dawn of each weekend,
the commuting symphony
is accompanied by duets
(and trios)
all pissed off and calling for blood,
a cappella.

How I long for the song of island winds…

“Bitch!
You knew he was with me.
But tramps only care for themselves.”

“I didn’t know.
Do I talk like an ignorant tramp?
Do I dress like a tramp?
No, that’s you.”

“You two deserve each other.
I hope he treats you real bad
and screws you worse.”

How I long for the song of Caribbean crickets…

When the concerto
of cars and buses and drunk romance
gets too loud, I change direction.

I place the lively pub patrons at my back
and focus on the redemption
of my bit of city:

for even on the darkest of nights,
I can see the barn through trees and shadows,
conjure up the red of its walls,
and feel the gaze of horses
widening the grin on my face.

I will always long for the song
of island winds,
of Caribbean crickets,
of a palmwood cottage
settling for the night…

But while I’m grinning at my Red City Barn,
the longing is just bittersweet nostalgia,
for childhood songs now gone.
.

for Dee

linked to Sanaa’s Prompt Nights, A Cup of Nostalgia

in Poetry Jam,
Brian Miller wanted to know a secret
that made my city special

Red Barn

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Red Barn Gate

51 thoughts on “Red City Barn

  1. hey i need to check out that bar & grille…smiles….an interesting contrast between the tension of the moment…and the islands…i have been to the islands…and i much rather like the feel of “island time”…you bring childhood in there in end as well…and i think we always think of our childhood as such an easy time…

  2. A lot of people have a longing for “home” but, they don’t know where it is. You very clearly know where your heart lies. I could feel the breeze and smell the mangoes! Was that AlmaMia I just saw running around the corner? <3

  3. The music of my childhood included waking, on weekends, to my Father, rat-a-tat-tatting on my bedroom door with his beloved drumsticks.

    Isn’t is wonderful how our senses are intricately entangles in our memories?

  4. i’m on your side, come to the Caribbean we’ll bapitze you in Jouvert morning mud; suckle you with road side corn soup; and exorcise you with rthymn of the steelbands on Panorama night

    thanks for dropping in to read mine

    much love…

  5. I enjoyed the poem but was very surprised to see the photos of the barn with all that snow! I expected something much closer to the look of “the islands”. Good that you can still find home in such a different place. Thanks for coming by my blog as well.

    • Snow has been blessing New York City for weeks. Right now, everything is white and getting more white on… Like I said, “How I long for the song of islands winds…” preferably, without snow in them. 😉

  6. “The serenata of engines”…. gf, I love it!… yep, got a visual as well as feeling the hum of those engines… The first photo of the snow, made me laugh.. sorry, I know you are suffering w/the cold… Wanna come to Cali? its mid 70’s and weekend supposedly in low 80’s… this climate is crazy, we just came out of cold temps.. now its heating up!. Hope its not a bad omen for your state.

  7. This is so serene, with its background of Caribbean crickets and warm breeze, even as it portrays the frazzle and fray of urban life–which is really just human life exponentially multiplied–and at the heart is the very telling truth that our homes, and our happiness have little to do with external habitats. Lovely piece, Magaly, and love the pics as well.

  8. Ah, in your poem I can hear the big city sounds of people and environment and also feel the yearning for the island…. I do hope you DO have a chance to visit time and time again.

  9. Wow! This is delicious stuff Magaly 😀 it has all the elements of nostalgia and it gives a feeling of going back into time 😀 Beautifully penned. Thanks for your kind participation.

    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

  10. The world can wake you up harshly from a sweet slumber ‘all pissed off and calling for blood’ – thank heavens we have lovely places to transport ourselves to in our mind 🙂

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