The Bayou Murders

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The Bayou Murders

In bayou days I lurked in wet and green,
and killed small gators with a hand held rock.
I was my father, champion of the swamp,
and foggy with his dreams I took as mine.
I took my piroque through the voodoo talk,
but found no magic in the curse of dark.
I gigged for frog legs, floated quiet and still,
and kept the secrets that I had been taught.
I had no fear of haunting, ignored ghosts,
but something much more sinister was there.
American race war outlines in the trees.
Dull remains aloft in Spanish moss.
Captured innocents in a swinging crypt
the gray of moss still hiding my regret

 

 

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Billie Holiday called the swinging black bodies, twisted in agony, hanging from the trees, Strange Fruit. The movie Mississippi Burning tells about black and white students which voiced their opinions during the civil rights movement being murdered there. Frankly, I did not see any mystery in this write at all but a fine representation of an American tradgedy. Bigotry, hatred and prejudice are the enemy of every free man, woman and child and until they are recognized as such, there will always be a foothold for groups like the Neo Nazis and the Ku Klux Klan. I remember seeing a man drive a truck into a Klan rally on television killing one Klan member and seriously injuring several others in the late 1960"s. I will never forget my father's remarks as he watched the incident on TV. He said, "That fellow had the right idea, he was just going about it in the wrong way."

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

A very interesting read indeed... secrets exist everywhere but places of isolation are usually the landfills... when you learn those secrets are they yours to tell, always a tough question to ponder. a great write, very mysterious.

[Ed Hart]

obviously, the gods were through with those itsy bitsy gators... you a bayou girl? I use to hang out down in Lafayette, and one time crossed the Sabine bottom chased by dogs... could be, one of those gators that didn't get me was one you'd stoned for being bad... :+(

[Charles]

I like the tone and flow of this poem, especially the first four lines - I can almost hear the beating of drums. The last four are a bit confusing to me (especially the last one). I think I know what's in the trees, but am not certain and don't quite undersand the subject's regret - the rest of the poem makes it sound as though the subject is an observor (maybe an intrloper). Good one, nonetheless.