Lovelorn Poets

From Anchorage to Zebulon: In Search of Missed Connections

Lovelorn Poets in New Orleans, LA: Mon Cheri

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Missed Connections in New Orleans

Mon Cheri

Missed Connections in
New Orleans, LA
Mon Cheri

I have not a cruel bone
only the intuition
to know
that despite bearing my soul
to you
you continue to deceive me.

Lovelorn Poets: Her Two Cents

Her Two Cents offers daily commentary on missed connections selected to appear on Lovelorn Poets.

Her Two Cents on Mon Cheri

Our lovelorn NOLA poet is certainly in a predicament. What to do when one has the sense that something is wrong but perhaps is lacking concrete evidence of wrong-doing? Deception, unless it’s the means for executing a surprise party, is typically a complete deal-breaker.  Go with your gut dear poet, this one isn’t worth your sweet-natured bones.

Gentle Readers: Intuition is a powerful force but so often we choose to ignore it to follow our logical head or foolish heart (or vice versa). Was there a time you chose to follow a strong intuitive feeling? What was the end result?

Lovelorn Poet in New Orleans, LA: I Love

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Missed Connections in New Orleans, LA:
I Love

Missed Connections in New Orleans, LA

I Love

I love:
how you make me laugh…
when you smile at me with that crooked little smile…
the way you wear a suit…
the way you wear jeans…
your five o’clock shadow…
that small pause in your breath when you are getting frustrated with me but are trying very hard not to show it…
the butterflies you give me…
listening to you talk about your day…
telling you about mine…
the way your voice goes soft when you talk about your children…
how you can’t dance…
the idea of being your girlfriend, lover, wife…
And I hate that it doesn’t matter.

Note from the Missed Connections Chief Bottle Finder: There are some poems and messages that really make me wonder about the author. What do they look like? What do they do for a living? What are they like as humans? That’s the aspect I find most interesting about MCs – they prompt questions I may never have the answers to.

Missed Connection in New Orleans: The Gelato Monster

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Yes it was him again– the Gelato monster and he walked on St. Peter’s street seeking fresh meat but there were no souls around that street… literally.

They say New Orleans is the place care forgot but there are those creatures of the night that are made of pure void and they feed off emotion (or coffee flavored gelato).

But tonight was a scary night and the Gelato monster places his brown hat on his head and borrows a cup of salt from his favorite witch so he can go out late and not get grounded. He goes over to Rouses and buys his favorite carton of cigarettes and pizza pie on a stick.  The night is so long and his mind goes numb. His voice is numb, his fingers are numb, his actions are the actions of someone that care forgot.

It is beyond void, beyond numb and beyond hopelessness.  It is beyond dream time for in his dreams he does not dream himself awake.  We all get gifts and we all get second chances so maybe in some black void far far far and away
away away he will meet his match…

A biscoti perhaps?

Note from the Chief Bottle Finder: Enjoy the smooth and sultry tones of the legendary Mr. Sonny Rollins while we wander the dark streets of New Orleans in search of… some forbidden desert.

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Missed Connection New Orleans: My Foot

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Note from the Chief Bottle Finder:  Nothing like an injury to elicit appreciation for those oft-forgotten body parts – especially the ones responsible for getting us around (which, depending on your disposition on couch-potato-ness, could be seen as a opportunity for increased levels of  sloth-li-ness – YES!).

To my foot that is now broken and cast in a hot sweaty boot:

All these years I have taken you for granted.  You helped me run countless laps in high school sports, dance in and on bars, and walk thousands of miles across the globe.  You’ve walked me away from countless bad choices, and led me into countless magical misadventures.  You’ve silently endured horrific paint jobs.  You’ve supported me when no one else could.  Occasionally you’ve given out on me, like the time you mysteriously gave way beneath me, in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday and I hadn’t even been drinking, but you’re always there when I brush myself off and stand back up.  Through it all you’ve never complained, even when I have dropped heavy things on you or failed to give you the proper support.

What I’m saying is that I’m nothing without you.  Bike riding just isn’t the same without you.  I can’t bring myself to dance at all.  It’s like a part of me is missing, and it is, foot.  I need you in my life.  Please get well, and come back to me.  I promise I’ll give you the support you deserve and never do anything to hurt you again.

with love,
the rest of me

Lovelorn Poets - Missed Connection New OrleansWant more music?
Want more videos?
Check out the Lovelorn Poets YouTube channel.

Lovelorn Poet in New Orleans: My Beauty in French 101

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My Beauty in French 101

My Beauty in French 101

Let me give you french lessons:
I am hungry. J’ai faim.
I am lost. Je me suis perdu.
I am sad. Je suis triste.
Do you need any more clues?
Meet me during the next full moon where desire never satisfies.
I am lost
I am sad
I am always hungry
You forgot the details of why we fought
but regardless I only save myself for self defense
i am remorse
I am regret
but you are forgetful
wish I could make you remember each detail so you can
heal and be Awakened
like me.
Tell me lost love
why are you selectively forgetting?
Shall I breathe you awake or shall I let you sleep?
If you choose sleep sleep peacefully with your spirit
unbroken
If you choose to remember
Let me have the intoxicating pleasure of Waking you.

Note from the Chief Bottle Finder: I’ve never been to New Orleans but I think there’s something to be said for all that heat and humidity… am I on to something here or am I just channeling Angel Heart?

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