Long Barkeep Poems
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Your sullen muted whispers,
wafting in this dank whiskey inn,
are falling on wide-open ears, except,
your mousey annoying voice lacerates my brain
with claws that rip and tear and impale,
yet, I desire more of this, here
with these wet unhappy sots,
lost forever like me,
on a dark numbing cloud,
as it floats aimless to the endless east,
leeward like a restless barge,
netting and trapping more broken souls,
more reluctant denizens, more
lodgers for the vacant harbor inns,
and the laurel-shaded graveyards.
But we are different than they, you and I.
We know when to stop talking,
and start nodding.
“Miss, could you speak up, I can’t hear you.”
The din of these dozens of voices here,
amongst these dancing grabbing fools,
are drowning out your sad pleadings.
But I can taste your sadness, and your
self-realization of a life worth nothing.
“I’m lost and don’t know where to turn.”
Then, in the neon darkness,
the staid barkeep places a covered porcelain dish
on our corner table, by the exit sign,
brimming and teeming furiously
with steamed remonstrances of insatiable fear.
“You should see me in the morning,” she says,
“Certainly not now, when it is the end of day,”
when night has ascended its ego curtain,
and a thousand imperfections are revealed.
“No, not now!”
"But my dear," I say, with eyes screwed forward,
“You are perfect in the twilight time,"
this now time, as we sit here in the back booth,
sipping these strong white whales.
“No! you fool of a man!”she says,
“I am not perfect enough!”
Hello barkeep, please pour me a beer.
Have you seen my mates hanging round here?
Surely you remember, possum face Pete?
He loves to dance but he has two left feet.
What about Carl he's a handsome guy?
Long flowing hair but missing one eye,
Please pour me another that tasted great.
It seem I'm alone my friends are all late.
How can you not remember, Bob the Boar?
He look like a hobbit except six foot four
Wait a minute, have you been here long?
The beer is good but something feels wrong.
The first time you've seen me, how can that be?
I tell you I'm stunned, it's a mystery.
I still remember when Moe won this Bar
He started with a few bucks in a glass jar.
I'm sorry, I guess I turned the wrong way.
This has been such a perplexing day
I lurch and crawl from
Bar to Bar
As most of all regulars and barkeep alike
Unfortunately can vouch and attest for
As i am well known or shall I say infamous
Far and wide in these establishment
Some have gone so far as to
Take turns or placing a watch out
So they have time to hide or run away
Rather than having been forced to listen to me
Regale stories and forms of poetry
With a booming voice best suited
For a outdoor amphitheater performance
Or town crier
Draped accordingly in gown and hat
Cane walking stick merely used as a prop
Performing everywhere he goes
Unfortunately most of time sadly uninvited
And if given the choice most publicans
Would Bar
Because he chases more customers away
Than end up wishing or wanting to stay
And worst of all he doesn't even
Buy a drink himself
He expects the other customers to
And when or if they eventually do
He then also says
Well go on then
May as well make mine a
Double
And don't try and fob me off
With the cheap stuff I am accustomed
To the finer things in life
And have expensive taste
I will have you know
And as since you are footing the bill and paying
I'll also have 1 to take away as well
It was last call, and all, he contemplated
Was should I stay here, or leave this old world
When out of the blue, a stranger he knew
Said Gary go home, to your little girl
Do I know you there mister, what's your name
Please go now, I don't want company
Hey barkeep can you please tell this man
It'd be best if He decided to leave
He turned to look again but there was no one
Gary you should go sleep in your car
I'm not sure who you've seen, it's just you and me
The night Jesus entered the bar
You can't get to Heaven from a barstool
Or find the Spirit, in the whiskey or rye
One soul was saved, one life was changed
The night Jesus entered the bar
At that moment in his life, he found meaning
How'd that stranger know who I am
Gone were the days, the war memories plagued
And he's no longer, stuck in Vietnam
To this day if asked, he will tell you
He saw a man, he can clearly describe
Somehow he knew he'd met Jesus
And he went cold turkey that night
The night that Jesus entered the bar
His soul found redemption, and so did his heart
It ain't often that a man, gets a new start
The night Jesus entered the bar
There's no place He won't go, to help save a lost soul
The night that Jesus entered the bar....
It was "Girls' Night Out"
At the local watering hole
So my bestie and me
Headed there at a stroll.
A crisp autumn night
And we both wore our furs
I joked she was a copycat
Saying she should change hers.
She stopped in her tracks
Her stare cut like a sword!
"It was only a joke!"
And then we both roared!
We got to the bar
And I held the door wide
Truly never expecting
What was to happen inside.
"We don't serve HER kind"
The barkeep sneered at me
"You can come in
But set that dog of yours free!"
Here I must tell you
I live in a town
With rednecks and pickups
And nothing much brown.
My friend was from Asia
Her coloring too strange
For these bigoted, brainless
Rejects from the grange!
My friend showed her teeth
Not exactly a grin
And one big guy in a wife beater
Stood up and moved in.
Before I could blink
Or throw a good punch
My friend ate that cowboy
Like some tasteless lunch!
And the others raced out
Slipping on fallen beer foam
So I sighed and began calmly
Walking my tiger home.
The poker game wuz progressin' purty well 'til Iron Mike started a ruckus!
Seems he had some spare aces up his sleeve, that dirty, sneaky cuss!
One-Eyed Pete didn't cotton to them shenanigans and drew his forty-four!
Iron Mike jumped up, toppled chairs and tables a-skedaddlin' fer the door!
That started the biggest brawl that the town uv Buckskin Joe had ever seen!
The mob wuz yellin' fer Iron Mike's head but he had prudently fled the scene!
One-Eared Earl, the barkeep, fired his rods a-tryin' to restore some order.
Meanwhile, Iron Mike wuz racin' on a stolen hoss fer the Mexican border!
The pianner player kept playin', "A Hot Time In The Old Town Tonight!"
('Twas Three-Fingered Clyde who tickled the keys fer free booze ever' night!)
Big Nell, who belted out bawdy songs each night, wuz involved, fists a-flyin'!
She busted some noses and shattered some teeth, and I ain't a-lyin'!
A dozen er so uv Madam Rosita's soiled doves joined in the fray as well,
A-kickin' and a-scratchin' and pullin' hair and generally raisin' 'ell!
There wuz so many shots fired that night, it seemed like war had started.
Many drunks awoke the next day to find that thar hair had been parted!
Studs Flanigan, the bouncer, wuz trampled as the fight spilled out on the street.
This sensitive affair caused a deeper rift between the rabble and the town's elite!
So as not to hear the fussin' and cussin', moms covered their kids tender ears.
Old-timers claimed they hadn't enjoyed sech a show in Buckskin Joe fer years!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
...If this was Heaven, it made little sense,
would not they get newcomers all the time?
How could this seem so bizarre to their mind?
Wouldn’t this have to have happened to them?
I just sighed loud and shook my head again,
but at that time a red-headed man came,
folks parted for him, and cried out his name,
like he was some hero they looked up to,
I just looked at him, not sure what he’d do,
but I somehow sensed that we were the same.
“When they spoke the words, I didn’t believe,
but here you are, good Lord, it’s been so long,
I’d say eight decades have now come and gone,
since I showed up and they had to receive
an earth-born soul, they just couldn’t conceive…
Took John here fifteen years to understand
that there could be another type of man,
so please, take my hand, and I will explain,
the truth of Heaven that boggles the brain,
but in the end is quite sublime and grand.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of this guy,
he seemed quite different then everyone else,
it was something in his eyes, I could tell.
In the other folks I could see no lies,
but in Philippe saw something I realized,
the hardness of a soul who had seen sin,
who had known evil, and fought it within,
a familiar look, one that I knew well,
I figured I should hear what he might tell,
so I stood and agreed to follow him.
He waved me over to a tavern small,
we paced towards it, the others close behind,
as if just seeing me shattered their minds,
most of them stopping outside the front wall,
nobody followed us inside at all.
Inside I saw a barkeep cleaning things,
not all that strange, except the man had wings,
an angel bartender…okay, why not?
Already Heaven was weirder than I thought,
Philippe cried, “Ras, you up for explaining?”
The angel turned, and his broad face lit up,
“Is that what I think it is?”he inquired.
I was uncertain what might transpire,
until Ras poured some beer, filled up a cup.
Said, “Up here, we only have the good stuff.
Forgive me, I’m rusty, it’s been a bit
Since an earth-born came, and Philippe was it,
most of your kind are scattered ‘round elsewhere,
so many Heaven-born, your sort are rare,
but I can help you make sense of all this.”
CONTINUES IN PART III.
In an Old West Town of no repute
Came a rider on a horse as if in hot pursuit.
Into the saloon he ran and shouted aloud
"BIG RED'S COMIN' "...which brought down a shroud.
Out the doors and windows they were flying
Even some sturdy men were seen leaving crying.
So now there was dead silence to be heard
With only a small man behind the bar, shivering and scared.
The huge figure came riding on the back of a Buffalo
No saddle needed, for this gunfighting pro.
A thick stubble covered most of his face
And the oversized sombrero keeping the sun in its place.
Double bandoliers crisscrossed his chest
Which was so swollen, you could not see his vest.
Two big revolvers hung at his hips
While the scowl spelled doom as he pursed his lips.
The big spurs clanged "KA-CHING", "KA-CHING" as he crossed the wood
Then stopped abruptly as before the saloon doors he stood.
With one fell swoop they came unhinged
As he came through and the barkeep cringed.
"Gimme a Whiskey" he said to the guy
Who was afraid to move, let alone try.
The big man reached across the bar and grabbed his throat
Bouncing him off the walls and ceiling as if he were a coat.
He threw him back behind the bar to his dismay
And repeated himself, "I said Gimme a Whiskey"!
With shaking hands the barkeep put a bottle up
Watching and cowering like a poor little pup.
Grabbing the bottle with little more than a frown
He broke it open on the bar and "GULP", "GULP", "GULP", the contents went down.
A big slurp could be heard as he wiped his face on the sleeve of his shirt
Quiet at last, and no one really got hurt.
In his frail little voice you could hear the barkeep say
"DDOOO YYYOOOU WWAANT ANNNOTTHERR?"
The Big Man answered, "Nah, I Gotta Go...I Heard 'BIG RED'S' Comin' This Way"!
It was during his winter and before his expiration
When he bade me to come sit beside him.
In between the sounds of a life, enforced,
Those machines were all that controlled
The course of his blood. Soon enough, he said,
I will return to my source,
But for now, listen to me.
In love, I failed.
In life, I sailed
Across the sea.
I did what I pleased
Because my measure of life was in the ocean breeze,
Each second a dram,
Each hour a bottle of whatever the barkeep had.
Ever since I was a lad, I sought adventure.
The path ahead was my only treasure.
My shovel broke the earth and wherever it landed, I planted seed,
But I never stood by to watch them grow.
I never thought of death or let anything else restrain me.
Freedom was my only need.
But a path with no destination is an endless spiral
And its meandering route only
A diversion from the monotony
For what is such freedom, but distraction without a goal?
What the old man wants is
What the young man refused.
Choose, or one day be alone.
You will plant me in the earth soon enough,
He said,
And rudder your way through a choppy sea.
Find your path and enjoy the road.
Break the earth with your shovel,
And don’t fear the acceptance of some of the load.
Take the path, but read the signs,
And know when it’s time to stop for a while.
But what the young man denied
Is what the old man chooses.
And yet we are all hypocrites,
Even in that.
Lefty Jacobs pushed through the doors,
he wanted a drink, nothing more,
after long days out on the trail,
a ride so hard his horse had failed.
He’d had to get out of Roystown,
to many lawmen going ’round,
he had a name that brought such things,
but he was long beyond caring.
As he moved up to get a drink,
across the bar a small man slinked,
wanted more, but was at a loss,
out of coin, the barkeep just scoffed.
Lefty took pit, slid come coin,
said, “Two drinks, so my friend can join.”
The whiskey came, he took his shot,
felt the burn, felt his stomach rot.
The small man drank and then looked up,
right into the eyes of the tough,
said, “I know you…and you should run,
bounty hunters are here…not for fun.”
Lefty just laughed, said, “I don’t care.
let them come for me, if they dare.
I’m the quickest, alive or dead,
I’ll put a fast round in their head!
“Many hunters have tried before,
I’ve took them all, and even score!
I’ve wandered far across the land,
and never met a better man.”
The small man slumped and said, “Well then,
I just thought I might help a friend.”
He downed the rest, and turned away,
perched at the bar, where he would stay.
Lefty looked on, and felt disgust,
how could a man become so lost?
No flesh on bone, no life in eyes,
as if he were about to die.
It almost around his pity,
but he bit back the sympathy,
the man had warned of hunters here,
so Left would induce some fear…
To show these townspeople there place,
he’d make the hunters meet their fate,
and buy time as the town’s top dog,
at least until there came real law.
Most people saw him and walked off,
townsfolk, not hunters, Lefty scoffed,
then a heeled man left the café,
and confidently walked his way...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.