So here is a poem I wrote that I have decided to submit for the GaG writing contest; enjoy the imagery, music and bar scene of the classic 1940s PI in a noir New York.
Name's John, John O'Malley, Private Eye, I just walked in to a dingy little bar, just got done with a case you see needed a drink, as I stepped through the door I heard a little canary singin' in the background.
The bourbon suffocated shadows and smoke drenched air of this joint felt like home, I put my flogger on the back of my chair, set my fedora on the bar, bartender, old fashioned, keep em coming I said, as I packed my pipe with Black Russian tobacco.
And lit it with a flip and a flash of sparks, the silhouette of my face just barely lit by the embers and barely visible behind the veil of smoke and darkness, I was about to take a sip of my drink which had just arrived.
When all of a sudden a gorgeous brunette walks in, she had hair like south pacific waves down to her hips which moved sensually with each step she took.
And with unparalleled elegance, she wore glad rags, a black cocktail dress against her bronze skin, classy, yet a joy in the morning, with gams that went on for miles, and string of ice around her neck.
She spoke with an accent that could put any fell under her spell, one thing is for certain,
a broad like that certainly didn't belong in a joint like this.
She sat down between me and a butter and eggs man who clearly didn't know his way around the big apple, I'll have a White Russian, in a cocktail glass she said.
No sooner did she say that, did she pulled a decent sized cigar out of her handbag.
Well ain't that something I though to myself, need a light I asked? as I flipped open my zippo, thank you she replied, as the smokey plumes rose around her like a curtain.
I had barely got a word out when someone came up to me and said someone on the horn wanted to talk with me, excuse me for a moment I said.
When I returned I noticed the butter and eggs man was annoying and harassing her, now I had been dealing with schmucks like this all day see, and I had no patience for it.
Time to make some chin music I thought to myself, now I didn't want to make a mess of things, so I tapped him on his shoulder and when he turned around I knocked him out, nice and clean.
I sat down in my seat, now where were we? I asked the broad, we talked for what seemed like hours, till the sun came up.
And little did I know it at the time but I'd be falling dizzy for this dame.
As I walked towards my car, intending on getting some rest when I arrived home I noticed a note in my jacket pocket.
All it had was a name and a number on it, huh I thought to myself, I'll give this broad a call, sometime.
And now for some music to enjoy while you read.
Peggy Lee: Black Coffee
Graham de Wilde - Private Investigator A
Hope you enjoyed my work feel free to comment, leave an opinion etc.