#bartender
A man living in community housing
Bought no groceries, he went out carousing
He didn't buy food
He saw girls dance in the ****
To him, this was much more arousing
He was told that he must change his spending
Or his tenancy soon would be ending
This made him annoyed
But. Now he's employed
At the strip joint each night... he's bartending
Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 6:35 PM UTC
On my last day of solo travel
I made the split decision to take stairs down
A random, haphazard side street.
I sat down at a cocktail bar
All by myself.
The only patron in this basement.
I was greeted with a smile
Missing one tooth
In the dark room
Asked what liquors I preferred
There is no menu
I listed off what I had tried and what I wanted to
She would sip a bit of the drink
Pipette on my outstretched hand
So I could give my input
As we constructed the flavors together
Laughing, eagerly offering and accepting my
suggestions of what the drink needed
Childlike wonder, curiosity, and play.
We experimented with absinthe
And amaretto, cherry, lavender, banana, sake, gin
pickled ***** coconut *** and umami bitters
She made me my first tiramisu martini.
A total of 5 cocktails in 5 hours spent together.
Lightly
I asked her why she moved to Prague -
Darkly
She said the single word “war”
She had to leave Kyiv or risk dying there.
She said she is so broke that she buys cheaper shoes that don’t fit and pads them with paper towels but still gets blisters.
She lives in a one bedroom with her mother.
Men started groping her on the train as early as nine.
She sincerely wishes her uncle would die.
She has made no friends in this city since she moved a year ago.
She has gotten fired before for being unlikeable and standing up for herself.
She painted the cocktail bar walls sage green after hours for free because the manager could not afford hiring a painter and she genuinely likes this job.
She is a polyglot: knows French, German, Ukrainian, Russian and English.
She’s vegan but she tries the fish-based bitters and egg whites for work every night and likes their taste.
She has not been to a doctor in years because she cannot afford it.
She has overdue medical bills racking up interest she worries about.
She got fined once for having an expired train ticket - now she always checks the expiration when she rides and has a valid ticket.
She points out, in her embroidered dress and matching embroidered jacket, that there’s cigarette holes from the ash the wind blew that she doesn’t have time to mend.
She has a college degree and a virtual master’s degree.
She thinks she’s old at 31.
She doesn’t trust men anymore.
She thinks that she’ll never get married or have children, even though she really wanted to when she was a little girl.
She was eager to smoke a cigarette outside when I needed to use the restroom.
She never let my water glass get empty.
She doesn’t know how she’ll make ends meet next month.
She asserts that life is unfair but that these are the cards she’s been dealt and they’ve made her stronger.
She thanked me as I left and told me that the conversation we had made her evening better
It was the most freeing feeling she had felt in months.
Being able to share and lighten the load of what she has been carrying alone made her emotional.
She says typically tourists and locals won’t ask or listen.
She feels othered by both.
We agree with tears in our eyes that we don’t even know each other’s names:
Margarita
Maria
We laugh, our names are so similar.
Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 12:22 AM UTC
walking on shards of glass whenever we interact
i am unnatural, nervous
usually feel so authentic and perfect
you mix my energy like a bartender
misrepresent my ability like my father
leading me to walk on shards of glass
sweeting the darker moments in the past
it is easier like that
it is easier to unpack
Jun 9, 2023
Jun 9, 2023 at 8:47 AM UTC
O bartender,
It has been a while
You slinging drinks with a casual smile
Cocktails you throw and stir and shake
And at closing time my heart does break.
O bartender,
What to say, you always know
Crafted words and my excitement grows
Tequila, beer or simply rather
"I'm glad you enjoyed, would you like another?"
O bartender,
You always look after me
Especially when you find me on a spending spree
Thank you bartender for all the great times
For this cocktail now which you call mine.
Jan 20, 2021
Jan 20, 2021 at 5:47 AM UTC
slow sunday
no rain
but still dark
empty seats
to match my
empty heart
and wallet
boredom consumes
so i write
a.a.
Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 9:55 PM UTC
I'll look at a kid girl across the bar
and will fall in love with her -
what's that
in her eyes
*******
what's that? -
at that moment
there is a new order in the printer
and I have to make a drink
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 9:06 PM UTC
Down at the local bar, there are two chairs.
In one is a man named Logus,
Who came from The Desert of Nine Valleys;
In the other is a song-less musician named Sparrow.
Day after day
Alone in the bar
The man with the foolish grin
Is keeping perfectly still.
But nobody wants to know him,
They can see that he's just a fool.
He wandered very far,
Very far,
Over land and sea.
A little shy,
And sad of eye,
But very wise was he.
And then one day,
One magic day he looked Logus' way.
And while they spoke of many things,
Fools and kings,
This he said to him:
“Good morrow to thee, brother prisoner!
Do you realize that you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize we're floating in space,
Do you realize that happiness makes you cry
And
Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die?”
Logus doesn’t want to bother with the bird,
”These are all lies
and jests.”
Sparrow retorts, “Still
A man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.
Now,
Drop your guard, you don't have to be smart all of the time.
I've got a mind full of blanks, I need to go somewhere new fast.
And don't be shy, oh no,
At least deliberately.
What was I saying?
Oh yeah.
Let me tell you a story that's sad but true,
About someone who just may remind you of you.
Let me tell you a tale that may help you awake a woozy head-
I'll buy you a drink
-It begins long ago on a happy day,
With a fool who was loved, but threw it all away,
Who exchanged a good home for a flophouse, a bar and a plank-“
Sparrow’s eyes begin to glisten--
Logus Interrupts,
“While we're on the subject,
Could we change the subject now?
My name is Logus,
I'm carrying the wheel.
Thanks for all you've shown us,
But this is how we feel.
Come sit next to me.
Pour yourself some tea.
Just like Grandma made,
When we couldn't find sleep.
Things were better then,
Once but never again.
We've all left the den
Let me tell you about it:
I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told.
I have squandered my resistance,
for an existence
In which
Ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for
And why it is here,
It will instantly disappear
And be replaced by something even more bizarre
And inexplicable.”
Sparrow began stirring in his seat,
”You know, there is another theory which states
That this has already happened.
And you lived that,
In exchange for a pocket full of mumbles,
Such are promises."
Logus looks at him,
“And? I am still alive.”
Sparrow rolls his eyes,
“Geez, you know
Somebody once asked, "could I spare some change for gas?"
I need to get myself away from this place."
I said, "yep what a concept,
I could use a little fuel myself,
And we could all use a little change."
Too bad
A fake Jamaican took every last dime with that scam.
It was worth it just to learn some sleight of hand.
Bad news comes, don't you worry even when it lands,
Good news will work its way to all them plans.
But the building's not going as we planned.
The foreman has injured his hand.
The dozer will not clear a path.”
Logus scoffs,
“You talk in maths.
You buzz like a fridge.
You're like a detuned radio.”
Sparrow Laughs, “You'll never be what is in your heart.
Weep little lion man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start.
You have a heart that's full up like a landfill,
A job that slowly kills you,
And bruises that won't heal.
You look so tired, unhappy.
Such pretty houses,
And such pretty gardens:
Green plastic water-cans
For fake Chinese rubber plants
In the fake plastic earth.
There's an empty space inside our hearts
Where the weeds take root.
And now I'll set you free,
I'll set you free.”
They both left right on time,
The Sparrow accosted his mind.
The Sparrow said,
"Hey man, we go all the way"
Of course, they were willing to pay.
Back to the street,
Down to their feet.
Losing the feeling of feeling unique,
Do you know what I mean?
Well on the way,
Head in a cloud,
The bird of a thousand voices
Talking perfectly loud.
But I never heard him
Or the sound he appeared to make.
And he never seemed to notice.
But the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down,
And the eyes in his head
See the world spinning 'round.
Of course, everyone goes crazy
Over such and such and such.
We made ourselves a pillar
We just used it as a crutch.
We were certainly uncertain
At least, I'm pretty sure I am.
Well, we didn't need the water
But we just built that, good God ****
For most have found both freedom and safety in their madness;
The freedom of loneliness
And the safety from being understood,
for those who understand us
Enslave something in us.
But let me not be too proud of my safety.
Even a Thief in a jail is safe from another thief.
And Horses run fastest on the way home.
Logus and Sparrow had just that in mind,
and so, after deciding to take Sparrow’s ride, they left.
After dragging themselves into the car
Logus looked at Sparrow from the passenger seat,
“I keep myself in
To pull myself out.
I'm rising up,
Wish I was sinking down.
And it's not like
There was warning
We were happy.
And it's not like
There was mourning
In the warning.
I guess I am a scout.
So I should find a way out.
So everyone can find a way out.
I know I am a scout.
I should've found a way out.
So everyone can find a way out.
Sparrow starts his car, the ignition doesn’t turn at first,
It’s an older model so it takes a few tries.
Sparrow turns to Logus,
“Well, that is that and this is this.
Will you tell me what you saw and I'll tell you what you missed
when the ocean met the sky. (You missed, you missed)
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste the afterlife?
Drift all you like,
From ocean to ocean,
Search the whole world.
And you find your destination
With so many different places to call home.
'Cause when you find yourself a villain,
In the story you have written
It's plain to see
That sometimes the best intentions
Are in need of redemption.
Would you agree?
If so, please show me.
These thoughts and the strain you're under
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
And fade out again and fade out again
Logus starts groveling,
“Turn me on to phantoms,
I follow to the edge of the earth.
And fall off.
Everybody leaves
If they get the chance,
And this is my chance.
My shadow's shedding skin,
I've been picking scabs again,
I'm down, digging through
My old muscles, looking for a clue.
I've been crawling on my belly,
Clearing out what could've been,
I've been wallowing in my own confused
And insecure delusions
For a piece to cross me over
Or a word to guide me in.
I wanna feel the changes coming down.
I wanna know what I've been hiding.”
His eyes are the size of the moon,
He could 'cause he can so he does.
He’s feeling so good,
Just the way that he does
When it's nine in the afternoon.
Logus starts thinking to himself,
“So you think you're a Romeo?
Playing a part in a picture show?
Cause you're the joke of the neighborhood!
Why should you care if you're feeling good?
Take the long way home!
Take the long way home.
His phone starts ringing,
he clumsily pulls it from his pocket
and answers it.
It’s his wife, para.
She’s concerned,
“Hello? Hello? Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone at home?
Come on now,
I hear you're feeling down
Well I can ease your pain,
Get you on your feet again.
Relax.
I'll need some information first,
Just the basic facts,
Can you show me where it hurts?
Please don't
**** yourself for recognition.
**** yourself to never ever stop.
oh no!
You broke another mirror!
You're turning into something you are not.
Come home!
I'll bake you a cake
Made of all their eyes.
Do you see me
Dressed for the ****
Logus chuckles and thinks to himself,
“I know she's looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead.”
Their eyes are the size of the moon,
she could 'cause she can so she does.
They're feeling so good
Just the way that they do
When it's nine in the afternoon.
Para continues,
“But you'll still
**** yourself for recognition,
**** yourself to never ever stop.
You broke another mirror,
You're turning into something you are not.
And that's okay
I got a box full of all your pity.
We're fresh out of tissues
Because on them I wrote a comedy,
I wrote a comedy.
Logus looking down,
almost as if she’s there in front of him
to see how sad he feels,
“Sorry, but
I'll take a quiet life,
A handshake of carbon monoxide.
With no alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
Silent, silent.
Tell me what to do!
Now the tank is dry.
Now, this wheel is flat.
And you know what else?
Guess what I received
In the mail today?
Words of deep concern
From my little brother:
Logus briefly thinks of a letter he received recently,
“Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep little lion man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start.
Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head,
you'll never settle any of your scores.
I backed my car into a cop car the other day.
Well, he just drove off - sometimes life's okay.
I ran my mouth off a bit too much, ah what did I say?
Well, you'll just laugh it off and it'll be okay.
it'll be okay.
Everybody needs a place to call their home.
Everybody needs someone to call their own.
Even when you're lonely, know you're not alone,
You're one of us.”
Logus' attention turns back to para.
Para begs,
“Please hold on hope, don't choke
On the noose around your neck
And find strength in pain
And change your ways
Know your name as it's called again.”
Logus sighs,
“Phew!
For a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself
Phew, for a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself.
Sparrow,
Somewhere on the edge of the conversation,
Begins getting heavy eyed,
Shutting one then the other and then opening both
And says to himself, drifting into an irresistible
road hypnosis induced sleep,
“And if you could be what you wanted,
If you could be who you wanted
All the time,
All the time.
And now I'll set you free,
I'll set you free…”
Before trailing off.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
"hell yeah?" the burglar asked the pusher.
(the burglar: wirily, ambitious. plain appearance, dressed in black.
the pusher: wealthy, strong and well-conditioned. sumptuous leather jacket.)
"hell yeah", the pusher answered. "now i got what i like and you got what you need."
both grinned. after a day of extensive work, they relaxed in a hellish pub. it was visited by diplomatic creatures whose faces were recognizable like shadows.
this pub was called babylon 8.
the burglar and the pusher touched glasses to celebrate their deal. they drank.
"nothing to be written down",
the pusher added. burglar nodded. voices of the diplomatic creatures surrounding them; satanic sighs; bold laughter; their sentences sounded like orders that are dictated by judges.
snakes and rats. gravelpitbulls and red cats. creatures with excellent memory. guys who swallow their plans after they had learned them by heart.
a while later, a lady entered the pub: adorable like a man's fantasy; imitable like a woman's strategy. her hair color was your desire; her skin color the color of your dreams.
her name was fantasy girl.
suddenly, the lights went out; suddenly, a lightblue sun illuminated the room. no one noticed. everyone so busy hiding something that nothing was hid.
the creatures of babylon 8 therefore didn't perceive the light.
fantasy girl ordered a drink. she told the bartender: "i need freedom. that's what i want from you, the people of babylon 8."
the bartender a giant with a face full of shining scars; his right ear missing; flashy shirt; an ancient first name; speaker of all world languages combined: the omerta.
fantasy girl took a sip from a silver brew which had been served to her by the bartender. she took out a single match and there was no box; a long cigarette between her unknown lips.
bartender looked at fantasy girl. without saying a word, he turned his stubble cheek into her direction. fantasy girl lighted the match.
lightblue fire. inhaling. smoke. iceblue cloud.
the burglar and the pusher had been looking at fantasy girl all the time.
fantasy girl held a white fountain pen and took a black sheet out of a green handbag. she began to write.
Dec 15, 2019
Dec 15, 2019 at 10:12 AM UTC
She walks in the bar
The bartender sits & stares,
We're closed for repairs
Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 9:56 AM UTC
Bartender,
I ask for a full glass of the elixir I asked you for before.
Something inside me cries, more then it did before.
Or ever actually
Weeks, and days, turn to hours, minutes, seconds, but still ripple of moments.
Moments that find me back here lusting for the poison that becoming, so becoming.
Maybe im here cause my father craved this chair.
Maybe im here cause he’s seeing my day become D-day, and not just today but everyday, all day and probably tomorrow too.
13 years old, crying for help,
a little boy appeared at his meadow of wisdom,
and all he says is “have a drink with me”
So I drink, I drink some more, and I drink enough that now the foot of my bed
has become this wooden armrest where I meet a new neighbor by the hour,
My bed pillows have become this poison,
the only feeling that lays my head to rest, battles caged and blurred in routine, battles with the child inside me,
the man now, and everything in-between.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC
#Mr. Piano Man how your
fingers rain down on the keys
dancing a somber ballet
capturing the feeling of being empty
like those bottles underneath
Here Mr. Piano Man
the next drink is on me
while we sift through debris
of our melancholy
Every note stings
every chord bleeds
woe is you
and
woe is me
play
Mr. Piano Man
a song to our ennui
Let it rain Mr. Piano Man
let the storm hammer the strings
lets swim in the puddle
of whats spilt underneath
Oh Mr. Piano Man
What is that I hear?
That note that was just hit
it sounded rather queer
there is no room for happiness
at the bottom of this beer
No! NO! Mr. Piano Man
I don't want the sun
go back to stormy waters
to where you had begun
I thought you a friend
I thought we allies
I thought we understood
the sounds of demise
Mr. Piano Man how you so betrayed
with your songs of love and spring
every note my heart aches
every chord a bee sting
Mr. Piano Man this is my goodbye
I am leaving you now
please don't cry
I am going to my new friend
Mr. Bartender
How do you do?
Give me an endless bottle
and another drunk to talk to.
#
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 3:07 PM UTC
That bartender poured my bourbon
and took an interest in my life.
'What's wrong, pal?
You can tell me.
I have all the answers.'
'Great,' I said. 'I don't know
any of the questions.'
For the rest of the night,
he left me with my typer
and silently refilled
the bourbon.
-Ron Gavalik
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 7:16 PM UTC
I'm a bartender
Scar-mender
Heart defender
On another ******
Ready for a hard winter
Never a pretender
Opposite of a large spender
Certainly not anyone's number one contender
The one who's better
Yet often told never
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 12:46 PM UTC
the bartender watches
he looks with no surprise
i reside in this place
another buzzing of the bar fly
jukebox plays classic rock hits
and the men play poker
neon signs flash the phrase
welcome to nowhere
sifting through pages
reminisce at what was
playing piano
singing
but with a hum
i play this song
some call a lullaby
i smoke my cigarette
drink from my glass
in an attempt to forget
about the past
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC
you wanna fall in love
with the girl behind the bar
the one with her shirt hanging low
she has that look in her eyes
that says she's down for the ride
and a body that makes you go slow
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 6:38 PM UTC
I've seen where those images
Take root
Trying to till them
New flowers need to grow
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 1:57 AM UTC
Twenty two years had passed by
She blinked, and a lifetime had passed
She started this job as a lark
She never thought it would last
Two husbands and rehab were part of this bar
The husbands...her clients all knew
But the rehab, was hers...and hers all alone
Only one in her family knew
She'd been tending bar here for 3 presidents plus
Two popes, two husbands....one queen
There were things in this bar that were secreted away
There were things just not meant to be seen
Say, 4 fights a week for 22 years
That's four thousand six hundred fights
That's more violent acts than one person should see
That's a lot of just mind numbing sights
As a tender of bar, she was part doctor as well
Serving drinks, and giving advice
She was hit on as well, and most she turned down
But some, they succeeded....some twice
They would come with their problems
spill their guts to this girl
Who they'd probably just met that night
They would tell her their problems and drink a few ales
When they left, they would be feeling all right
But, Mary...poor Mary would harbour their pain
She'd help them, but could not let things go
They'd cheer up with her talking and 1 or 2 beers
But she hurt, and would leave feeling low
There was always a someone on the tales other end
Who was home, maybe beaten or mad
But, Mary....she talked to the one who'd come out
And she always left feeling quite sad
The stories they told her, she never asked them to tell
But they came and they opened on up
And she as their hostess just listened and served
Whle they sat there, getting full in their cups
She married two men that she met in the bar
Both left wives, and poor Mary was blind
They both charmed this girl, till she was way too far gone
And she learned that love..yes, was blind
She had a young niece, that her sister had left
She was going to school here in town
If there was one person alive who could bring Mary up
Her niece Amber was the proverbial clown
After marrying twice and divorcing just once
Mary vowed not to do it again
But, she was hit on each night
in this bar Down the lane,
by a considerable number of men
Her first husband...a lout, for better want of a term
Was a drunkard, and jealous most days
But she fell for him hard, for his sad tale of woe
And her marriage lasted 91 days
He would come in each night after finishing work
And would berate her for flirting for tips
After leaving the bar, he would beat her at home
Hitting low, just above Mary's hips
Her boss saw her marks whens she was filling the fridge
He kept quiet, but he told her to call
A friend that he had, who would help Mary out
He knew her marks were not from a fall
Before Mary phoned she had incredible news
Her husband had been in a crash
Her problems were over and her bruises would heal
And it all happened ...poof...in a flash
During this time her sister ran off
Leaving Amber for Mary to raise
Though she hated her sister for leaving
Dear Amber she loved, and she helped Mary get through the days
But eight years along, with no outlet in sight
Hearing tales and of other folks pain
Mary reached out and she found comfort in
A needle and a rock of *******
for three years she spiked, shooting up every day
spending money she stole from the till
And during this time, she got married again
He seduced her when she had no self will
He knew of her problem and joined in all the same
Just a leech come along for the ride
He would help keep her secret, never telling her boss
Never letting them know she was fried.
Poor Amber found out, she walked in one June day
there was Mary with her coke and her spoon
When she looked at young Amber, she knew she must quit
And she knew that she must do it soon
Pure heartbreak she saw in that little girls eyes
She could see how she thought she would lose
Her Aunt like her mother, gone from her life
Mary knew she would now have to choose
Rehab was chosen, and her husband he left
He found out that this train had now stopped
his free ride was over, his meal ticket gone
You could say that his bubble had popped
Two years clean celebrated, at the bar with the kid
Mary got some good news from her boss
He was retiring to Texas and was selling the bar
And he would sell it to her at a loss
She was now the proud owner of a bar all her own
Three doors down from Giannis on Hope
She would run it precisely, the way she'd been taught
She would run the bar clean, free from dope
She would meet some great people,
Some nights in for a drink
And others that she wished would just leave
She would listen to stories, some good some not quite so much
And others just to hard to believe
She would make friends with some people And others she'd ban,
making sure that they left with a start
She'd befriend Harry Cooper, the World War two vet
Who would imprint his soul on her heart
And Amber...yes Amber would come down to spend time
She was fine and was going to school
She was a classical ****** in the dark of her room
And I tell you this girl was just cool
Mary brought Amber up with morals and faith
She would come when her Aunt made the call
She would rather hang out at the bar every night
Than to go with her friends to the mall
Mary made peace with the demons she had
She could leave the folks tales and go home
But, now she had Amber and a reason to live
And she would not have to do it alone
the bar's past Giannias, three doors down to the right
It's not large but she makes it make do
There's some music out back from a bluesman as well
Come on down and be one of the few
Be a regular there, join up with the crowd
It's not big but the beer's always cold
You don't have to stay long, but you'll come back again
For it's special....or so I've been told
Tell Mary I sent you, you'll get a free drink
And a free ear to hear of your tale
But, leave your ciggies outside for you can't smoke in here
You can do it outside by the pail.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 12:16 PM UTC
I was drinking at the Legion
The place wasn't really busy
But there was one man at a table
Who made me really dizzy
He was waving all around the room
He was really in a zone
The funny thing about it
He was sitting all alone
He spoke in quiet whispers
And he heard silent replies
From chairs that sat there empty
He heard their mournful cries
He had a beer before him
But he never left his chair
And no one sat beside him
It's just like he wasn't there
So, I went about my business
Playing darts and shooting pool
Buying tickets for the meat draws
Watching young ones acting cool
The other active members
Who'd spent some time in battle
Always checked to see his beer was full
As he sat there spouting prattle
It's unwritten at the Legion
You never ask about the war
You just revel in their company
That's what the place is for
There's veterans who'll tell stories
Of years gone bye and bye
But, you never ask a question
"Did you see somebody die?"
The Actives know their station
The young ones though do not
It's because of all the Actives
They've got all that they've got
As time went on I wondered
The story of this man
So , I went and asked the barkeep
He said "I'll tell you what I can"
He served two brews and wiped a glass
He stood flashing a smile
"You'd better grab a chair my boy"
"This here might take a while"
I sat and listened as he talked
About this man distressed
He told me "His name's Harold"
"And you can say his mind is messed"
"I've been working here for twenty years
And he's been here twice that
He's never moved from that **** chair
That's where Harold's always sat"
He got up once to fill a glass
And then came back to me
"When I came here, I had just got home
"I'd been fighting overseas"
"From what I heard at first" he said
"Harold's always been that way"
"And as you can see from watching"
"He'll always stay that way"
"He's lost inside his mind you know
To June 6 in forty four"
"We both know that as D-Day
"But he knows it as more"
"It was Juno Beach from what I've told
he landed with his squad
Over 14,000 Canadians
And now most lie with God"
I then got up and went outside
I said "I need a break"
I went out for a cigarette
For this tale had made me shake
I went back in, got two more beers
And sat right down again
"His whole platoon went down that day
They'd lost 3,000 men"
"There was Harold and 300
"others who survived"
"But living life inside their heads"
"I think they'd wished they'd died"
"He lives with Jean, his sister"She's been there all his life
"She put her life on hold for him
"She's never been a wife"
"She pays me for his beer every month
"And says to keep some for me
"But a penny's never crossed my bar
"You see ...Old Harold drinks for free"
"I give her money now and then
"I say he won a draw"
"Just for showing up each day I say
"just that and nothing more"
I went and grabbed a bar rag
And I wiped my teary eyes
I then paid for my drinks and
I left fifty bucks besides
He said your bill's eight fifty
What's all the extra for?
I said that he could keep it
Or just put it in his draw
He nodded and he smiled
And I left the bar for home
And as I left I watched poor Harold
On Juno Beach, his mind, his home
I came back three months later
And I saw no Harold there
There was now an empty table
And now, four empty chairs
"Dear God, it's you"....the barkeep said
"Grab your coat, come with me"
"Harold died on Saturday"
"And his funeral's at three"
He died a war time hero
But still a prisoner all the same
And down at our old Legion
Very few knew Harold's name
When we got out to the gravesite
I expected to see more
But there was just Old Harold's sister
The priest and us two...made it four.
We said a prayer, and sang a Hymn
He was back with his Platoon
He was back on Juno Beach again
Where his life ended that June
It's a shame that no one came out
To see him on his way
But, there'll be me and Bill the barkeep
Every year and on this day.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 11:29 AM UTC
T'was the night before Christmas, And at the back of the bar
Sat a man all alone, Lighting up a cigar
The waitress ran over and waving her hand
You can't do that here, Smoking is banned.
If you must smoke that thing, you can go to the street
And stay away from the building, by at least fifty feet
The man took a puff and with a voice like a croak
He said, "You're kidding, right miss? You're making a joke"
I'm sorry, but sir..I'm afraid that it's true
But the law is the law, and it's not only for you
That we must say **** out, please extinguish your smoke
So our place can be filled with other fine folk
For ninety two years I have walked on this earth,
I have broken no laws and you know what it's worth?
Bupkiss, no nada it's not worth a thing
Would that law still apply if I was a King?
I've been coming in here for 60 odd years
And I think I've consumed a truckload of beers
I've smoked in this corner on many a night
Now you say **** out, I don't think that's right.
I fought for this country at the end of the war
I came home with a war wound, and you know dear...what's more
I came to this bar to have drinks with my friends
Who all weren't so lucky and met terrible ends
They died on the beach, heart as big as a house
Taking on the unknown for their country, their spouse
They battled for honor, the right to be free
And they all weren't as lucky, to come home like me.
I was here in the sixities when Camelot died
I was here with my son, and we both sat and cried
It was that night in November, I remember it well
That my son said he'd joined up and was heading to hell
He had joined the marines and was all set to fight
For freedom and honor and he knew it was right
Because I'd gone before and stood with others like him
And I said just be safe, and come home son...my Jim
In the years he was gone, I came down here to think
Of why he was there and I shared smokes and drinks
With friends, all now gone from this world of distrust
Now they all lie beneath us, decomposed back to dust.
My son made it back and we came right down here
To spend time with our friends, both from far and from near.
The years passed us by and my grandson joined too
And we sat and we prayed in this bar, for we knew
He was fighting for freedom and the rights we hold dear
Like having some fun, over smokes and some beer.
He never came home from his war, don't you see
That's why we're sitting alone here, just you and me
Tonight is the night that his letter arrived
Saying "We regret to inform you...that no one survived"
So, each Christmas Eve I come back to this bar
To savor my memories and to drink from this jar
And I finish each year thinking of what now is gone,
Of my battle scarred boy and his now deceased son
Now, you come and tell me that I must go outside
To continue my smoking and so I'll abide
'cause for 92 years that I've been on this earth
I've broken no laws and you know what that's worth
Then the waitress reached back and she pulled out a match
From a box on the bar with a rusty old catch
She said Sir, I am sorry I didn't mean to offend
For this one night each year, the law I can bend
So please light one for me on this Christmas Eve Night
And Thank you from all who continue the fight.
Merry Christmas and HAPPY NEW YEAR 2019
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 6:38 AM UTC
The night was over
The band was done
Time to hit the lights
Another Friday
In the books
And we only had two fights
One busted speaker
A broken chair
A proposal killed at ten
Time to close
And shut it down
Until we start again
Ashtrays full of hopes and dreams
Burned away with no success
Half filled bottles and empty glasses
Just signs of more excess
Time to clean away the night
And sweep away unanswered prayers
Wash the lipstick from where it stayed
And clean up the nights layers
Another morning
after another night
of at least ten broken hearts
where remnants of
scattered hopes
were dead before their start
An empty shell
hopelessness...tempting
once more..'have a try
where once the band
is finished up
you can all go home and cry
Ashtrays full of hopes and dreams
Burned away with no success
Half filled bottles and empty glasses
Just signs of more excess
Time to clean away the night
And sweep away unanswered prayers
Wash the lipstick from where it stayed
And clean up the nights layers
Each day starts fresh
Last night is gone
Nothing ever lasts
The beer is cold
The bar is warm
Last night is in the past
Regulars arriving
Band is tuning
The staff is in position
Fake Id's
abound tonight
with cougars on a mission
Ashtrays full of hopes and dreams
Burned away with no success
Half filled bottles and empty glasses
Just signs of more excess
Time to clean away the night
And sweep away unanswered prayers
Wash the lipstick from where it stayed
And clean up the nights layers
Ashtrays full of hopes and dreams
Burned away with no success
Half filled bottles and empty glasses
Just signs of more excess
Time to clean away the night
And sweep away unanswered prayers
Wash the lipstick from where it stayed
And clean up the nights layers
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC