StorytellingSalem 026

***The Halloween-Masquerade***
-Down in New Orleans, Louisiana
(#StorytellingSalemStory #999,985 out of 1mil:)

🎶 So I been travelin’ across this big bad land,
With a whiteboard and a marker held firm in my hand.
Town to town, State to State,
Asking just one question, before I’d sit back and wait:

“What’s,
Yor,
Story?”

And when I was in New Orleans- under the spell of a Halloween night,
A teen walked up: dressed like a fright!
A tailored cloak of Midnight Dew,
He smiled at my board, whispering, “I’ve got a tale for you.” 🎶
⸻
“I got one, yeah—alright, listen here,
’Bout the best night I had in my sixteenth year.
I was younger then, still actin’ wild,
Still breakin’ curfews like a stubborn child.

Now in NOLA on Halloween, things get strAnge,
Ain’t like the suburbs or the city rAnge.
Down here, the costumes are real works of Art,
The whole damn place gets a magic heArt.

So me and my cousin (and his girl May),
We all dressed up for the Yearly-Halloween-Masquerade.
Not just rags and masks from a discount store—
Nahhh- we went full out- like kings & queens of lore.

I was a fox in a velvet vest,
Gold mask sharp with a feathered crest.
Cousin wore scales, a serpent’s gleam,
Silver mask that caught the moon’s beam.
And May? She glowed in a deep-sea blue,
Dressed like a siren that the sailors knew;
With a mask of coral, eyes like glass,
Hair curled high like seaweed grass.

We started out near the old oak street,
Where candy gets tossed from a balcony -by a man with beats.
His boombox rattled like bones in a jar,
As he yelled: ‘Take three king-size- or you ain’t gettin’ far!’

We passed a jazz band doing squats & dressed like the sea,
Trumpets blowin’ like a banshee’s plea.
Fog rolled in like a breath held long,
Turned the streets into a midnight sOOOOOOOng.

A girl in a cloak offered a piece of bright gum,
Her smile, a quiet promise of mischief to come.
She drifted away with the fog like a whispered hum,
Her parting laugh echoing with the pulse of a drum.

There was a fella on stilts dressed as a goat,
With red paint spillin’ all down his coat.
He danced on the corner of Royal and Main,
Spittin’ rhymes like a preacher on a midnight train.
There were werewolves roaming the streets in packs,
With gold eyes flashing through alleyway cracks.
Every hour on the hour, their voices would rise,
A chorus of howlin-echoes- that split through the skies.
Their claws tipped n tapped on the cobbled stone,
While their shadows, moved & howled, with minds of their own.

Then round midnight we heard the sOUnd—
From deep in the Quarter, low to the grOUnd.
A slow bass thump, like the beat of a tOmb,
While the air grew thick like a bayou blOOm.

We followed it through the winding street,
Where candlelight flickered ‘neath dancin’ feet,
Till we reached Jackson Square, lit up in GOLD!
Where a masquerade spun like a tale reeeEEEETOOOOOOOLD!!~

It wasn’t just dancin’—nah, it was wild,
Like every costume had dreams compiled.
A man in a mask of a clock with gears-
Spun in circles, ticking through the years.
A man in armor forged from shattered glass,
Moved like a vitrail mirror through the crowds that passed.

They wasn’t folks dressed up pretendin’,
They were spirits, or close, dependin’.
‘A Tale of Midnight Art:’
Their eyes were fire, souls aflame with ancient desire;
Each measured step fell like a note in an unspoken serenade,
A slow and haunting waltz the masquerade had made.

There was a phoenix with wings all lit,
Twirlin’ and turnin’ with perfect grit.
A jester in black with silver bells,
Spoke only in whistles and carousel spells.
There were pandemic crows -handing out flowers,
& even a squadron of orange presidents- squawking at one anotha.

We saw dancers glidin’ like midnight mist,
Some doin’ waltzes, some doin’ twists.
Moonlight spilled on velvet floors,
With floats rollin’ slow like ancient lore.

Not campaign trucks, not modern rides—
But paper mache whales with children inside.
A glowing beetle, wings of flame,
Rolled through the crowd with no known name.
A castle made of mirrors passed us by,
Showin’ dancers reflected ‘gainst the stars n sky ‘bove us.

Dancers twirled beneath a soft-lit glow,
Their costumes sparklin’ like some sort o’ festival show.
Silken ribbons snapped in the wind’s embrace,
Threads catching starlight, trailing in grace.

We jumped in too, and we danced in time,
Movin’ to rhythm, no reason or rhyme.
May spun once, then twice, then four,
Till her dress caught the wind and became fully part o’ the show.
Her bright coral gown spiraled—then split in two,
Layers peeled back, revealing a brilliant view.
Orange and red like fire untamed,
A second-hidden-dress- reborn -& making its grand debut.

We stepped in sync with the spellbound throng,
following the echo of drums and song.
Joining the Waltz of the Masquerade Parade;
where masks lined faces, shimmered in color,
Swept through Bourbon like a like a flood to discover.
My cousin snapped their fingers, as I clapped & swayed-
In the wildest crowd you’ll ever embrace!

We lingered ’til the dawn spilled a soft silver light,
Where the shadows of werewolves danced on cobblestones -in flight.
We weren’t haunted, we weren’t cursed—
Just felt like we saw the city’s thirst:

For joy and ghosts and Mardi Gras Light,
Wrapped all up in our yearly Masquerade-
every HalloweeeEEENNN NNNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!”

_____

And then, just like that, the kid gave a grin,
Turned back to the crowd and slipped right in.
My marker still squeaked on the board’s old face:
“What’s, Yor, Story?” —still in the same old place.

*** #StorytellingSalem #Story #999,985 ***