12 Bar Blues
- Thread starter darkmaas
- Start date
pensivepoet
Love dangerously
- Joined
- May 21, 2014
- Posts
- 7,667
Well, by the looks and giggles all around the bar, apparently i was the only one who didn't notice.
Maybe the fact that she was a good 6 inches taller than me shoulda tipped me off.
Reminded me of the scene from "bachelor party"
Maybe the fact that she was a good 6 inches taller than me shoulda tipped me off.
Reminded me of the scene from "bachelor party"
pensivepoet
Love dangerously
- Joined
- May 21, 2014
- Posts
- 7,667
The Game
Here,
nothing is as it seems
winsome badinage
entrancing televisions
barmaids playing virtuoso smiles
and the four quarter shuffle
dealing ivory clatter
Here,
the slights in sound
Glances and posture
are not to be ignored or
taken lightly.
The old boys on the end
playing beer bottle polka
can be trusted
~ignore them
It's her at the jukebox
after his whisper,
the too chummy guy
three gins down,
and the nefarious nuance
of how that one crosses
her legs and drags
her cigarette.
Watch them
Watch your drink
Study the board
and the pawn
in slick whistle slide.
You might get out with
your wallet and life
You might get fucked
in the back of a Ford
But feel the air, sense
the electric tension
through the sleepy smoke
and know
this is no game for children
and the stakes run high
at the Broken Spoke Tavern.
Here,
nothing is as it seems
winsome badinage
entrancing televisions
barmaids playing virtuoso smiles
and the four quarter shuffle
dealing ivory clatter
Here,
the slights in sound
Glances and posture
are not to be ignored or
taken lightly.
The old boys on the end
playing beer bottle polka
can be trusted
~ignore them
It's her at the jukebox
after his whisper,
the too chummy guy
three gins down,
and the nefarious nuance
of how that one crosses
her legs and drags
her cigarette.
Watch them
Watch your drink
Study the board
and the pawn
in slick whistle slide.
You might get out with
your wallet and life
You might get fucked
in the back of a Ford
But feel the air, sense
the electric tension
through the sleepy smoke
and know
this is no game for children
and the stakes run high
at the Broken Spoke Tavern.
pelegrino
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Dec 25, 2013
- Posts
- 1,000
Another Night
I really think there is no point
to blow me upstanding,
let me lie,
then you can blow me all you want
or even blow your own whistle,
I will be sleeping.
Don’t hesitate to forget me,
I wouldn't notice,
don’t hesitate to caress me,
I can't feel,
Come, come, come,
but come another night.
I really think there is no point
to blow me upstanding,
let me lie,
then you can blow me all you want
or even blow your own whistle,
I will be sleeping.
Don’t hesitate to forget me,
I wouldn't notice,
don’t hesitate to caress me,
I can't feel,
Come, come, come,
but come another night.
baby_babylon
Virgin
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2014
- Posts
- 2
The Drake Hotel
I was drunk on sloe gin and metaphor
you were fueled by red bull and testosterone
I was warned that it would end in tears
and they were kinda on the mark
but you taught me
chivalry rarely stays up very late
and flesh and blood is real
I was drunk on sloe gin and metaphor
you were fueled by red bull and testosterone
I was warned that it would end in tears
and they were kinda on the mark
but you taught me
chivalry rarely stays up very late
and flesh and blood is real
pensivepoet
Love dangerously
- Joined
- May 21, 2014
- Posts
- 7,667
champagne1982
Dangerous Liaison
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2002
- Posts
- 7,672
Morosity
I been sittin' in a corner
watchin' mean drunks all night
and wonderin' why they're like that
'cause baby that can't be right
You know tomorrow morning
come early
and t'night grows long of tooth
I can't stay here forever
searchin' out the truth
Oh yeah the melancholy's got me
and my booze is a dangerous sin
it's sat me in this corner
and look at the mess I'm in
You don't love me baby
you don't need me anymore
if I don't get home by mornin'
you be walking out the door
The melancholy's got me
I can't go home to you like this
cryin' for my tomorrow
and all the love I'll miss
Oh yeah it's really got me
I'm really feelin' low
this gin be runnin' dry
I'll take my heart and go
I got the melancholy blues.
I been sittin' in a corner
watchin' mean drunks all night
and wonderin' why they're like that
'cause baby that can't be right
You know tomorrow morning
come early
and t'night grows long of tooth
I can't stay here forever
searchin' out the truth
Oh yeah the melancholy's got me
and my booze is a dangerous sin
it's sat me in this corner
and look at the mess I'm in
You don't love me baby
you don't need me anymore
if I don't get home by mornin'
you be walking out the door
The melancholy's got me
I can't go home to you like this
cryin' for my tomorrow
and all the love I'll miss
Oh yeah it's really got me
I'm really feelin' low
this gin be runnin' dry
I'll take my heart and go
I got the melancholy blues.
GuiltyPleasure
AWTSS
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2003
- Posts
- 14,131
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,425
That is really good Tods--like a melancholic bluesy fugue and I love that last line, which throws the whole poem into perspective.
And thanks for helping to keep this thread alive.
Thanks angie. It is a brilliant thread, and I know its value to you :hugs:
KatieJones
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2011
- Posts
- 240
It's called the red house which confuses
me since only the door is red.
Did proprietors feel red door was too transient
since it not only welcomes but bids goodbye.
These are my thoughts as the red door slams.
I am alone at a recently fabricated to look old
wooden table examining its carefully beaten
surface with all its calculated scratches
sitting atop my too high stool
while my fingers focus on catching the tears
sliding down the side of my frozen mug. Wondering
whether I am the table, the mug or the stool
and strangely I settle on the door
which is perpetually neither here nor there.
me since only the door is red.
Did proprietors feel red door was too transient
since it not only welcomes but bids goodbye.
These are my thoughts as the red door slams.
I am alone at a recently fabricated to look old
wooden table examining its carefully beaten
surface with all its calculated scratches
sitting atop my too high stool
while my fingers focus on catching the tears
sliding down the side of my frozen mug. Wondering
whether I am the table, the mug or the stool
and strangely I settle on the door
which is perpetually neither here nor there.
AlwaysHungry
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 24, 2010
- Posts
- 1,525
Hinano Cafe
Wading through the shavings
that infiltrate my pedalboard
the standby switch goes off
and I can feel the buzz
the gathering electrons
decibels waiting to be born
The bartenders scurry to and fro
they're hustling tips, and there's no rush
to quell that jukebox -- then they shut it down,
we take a breath and play.
There's a roar of sound
from this, our little corner of this dive,
Wedged between pool tables and the popcorn machine
We play some funk, the people come alive
They dance before our faces
(Jose Luis comes trudging in between
bearing a case of beer)
The blond girl and her giant boyfriend shriek with joy
when I turn up for solos
but the amazon with her pool cue is unmoved.
Wading through the shavings
that infiltrate my pedalboard
the standby switch goes off
and I can feel the buzz
the gathering electrons
decibels waiting to be born
The bartenders scurry to and fro
they're hustling tips, and there's no rush
to quell that jukebox -- then they shut it down,
we take a breath and play.
There's a roar of sound
from this, our little corner of this dive,
Wedged between pool tables and the popcorn machine
We play some funk, the people come alive
They dance before our faces
(Jose Luis comes trudging in between
bearing a case of beer)
The blond girl and her giant boyfriend shriek with joy
when I turn up for solos
but the amazon with her pool cue is unmoved.
KatieJones
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2011
- Posts
- 240
Modern Day Hermit Meets Irish Pub
I only come once a year so I never remember
if it swings in or out and announce my arrival
with an awkward bang on the worn doors
of The Toucan. They have moved well past rustic
and landed somewhere beyond tattered
but just before broken. That stumble is a soundtrack
for my reluctance to transition away from the safety
of the uncommitted sidewalk into a room lit only by a buzzing
neon sign that flashes off and on like a very tired bee
long since laid off from the hive. I have to wait
under the stare of the bartender and his three parishioners
who are one drink away from hitting their knees
while my pupils expand in the deliberate darkness.
I suspect it is designed to hide
both the faces of the regulars and the path they have worn
into the carpet. Past three tables of one
each one iced with empty glasses and eyeless glances
I walk to the back in search of a friend
whom I study with the same curiosity
as Jane Goodall watching her chimpanzees.
You are not a primate
but your need to be in a pack and your ease
with strangers makes you seem like a foreign species
to someone who loves to be alone and assumes
most people are serial killers. Around the corner
you sit comfortably chatting with the waitress
whom you magically call Sue
despite her lack of a name tag and who-the-fuck
-are-you-looking-at aura as she shows you pictures
of her kids. Neither of you has any idea
my one minute journey to the table
felt like pilgrimage made by someone who lost
their faith in the destination decades ago
and that I already long for the comfort
of my own company and the quiet of my cave.
I only come once a year so I never remember
if it swings in or out and announce my arrival
with an awkward bang on the worn doors
of The Toucan. They have moved well past rustic
and landed somewhere beyond tattered
but just before broken. That stumble is a soundtrack
for my reluctance to transition away from the safety
of the uncommitted sidewalk into a room lit only by a buzzing
neon sign that flashes off and on like a very tired bee
long since laid off from the hive. I have to wait
under the stare of the bartender and his three parishioners
who are one drink away from hitting their knees
while my pupils expand in the deliberate darkness.
I suspect it is designed to hide
both the faces of the regulars and the path they have worn
into the carpet. Past three tables of one
each one iced with empty glasses and eyeless glances
I walk to the back in search of a friend
whom I study with the same curiosity
as Jane Goodall watching her chimpanzees.
You are not a primate
but your need to be in a pack and your ease
with strangers makes you seem like a foreign species
to someone who loves to be alone and assumes
most people are serial killers. Around the corner
you sit comfortably chatting with the waitress
whom you magically call Sue
despite her lack of a name tag and who-the-fuck
-are-you-looking-at aura as she shows you pictures
of her kids. Neither of you has any idea
my one minute journey to the table
felt like pilgrimage made by someone who lost
their faith in the destination decades ago
and that I already long for the comfort
of my own company and the quiet of my cave.
Last edited:
darkmaas
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 4, 2002
- Posts
- 1,000
::
The funny thing about a bar,
is not the sodden clown
two stools down
and counting.
It's not about the drink
or the lateness of the hour
There's a web
of loves and strangers
that stretches back in time
hale fellows
sultry nubiles
and maybe the odd fish.
This bar is nigh thirteen
spins about the sun
- charmed my dearest -
someone bake a cake.
We were younger then.
::
The funny thing about a bar,
is not the sodden clown
two stools down
and counting.
It's not about the drink
or the lateness of the hour
There's a web
of loves and strangers
that stretches back in time
hale fellows
sultry nubiles
and maybe the odd fish.
This bar is nigh thirteen
spins about the sun
- charmed my dearest -
someone bake a cake.
We were younger then.
::
KatieJones
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2011
- Posts
- 240
Dear Jack Ass-tor
The panorama from Jack’s patio spans
cathedral spires and domes to the lake
dotted with sails that look like paper
adornments for one of the great drinks.
I hear laughter on this cement perch
long held by pigeons
and only recently inhabited with flocks
of people and the odd plastic owl
to ensure the cooing is restricted
to partners drunk enough to see
perfection in the flawed faces
and shaded eyes across their tables.
Today Wolfe’s turbines are turning
but I won’t be up there to see
them twirl in time with all the summer
skirts and sun-kissed hair
because despite its unparalleled views
all I can hear is Mr. Astor’s ugly claim,
“Our patios are like national parks.
Huge and filled with cougars,”
and that grounds me. Literally.
He may think his line is funny
and maybe in the naiveté of youth
I might have shrugged it off
but now it makes me want
to chop down his money tree
and ask him how he can fuel
a prejudice that will slap
his own daughters in the face
because those casual comments
allow morons to mock people
for the blood of life, seal glass
ceilings, make sex-slaves
and characterise theft of dignity
and the right to choose to say
yes or no as twenty minutes of action.
So no. I won’t drink to that
and I’m bossy enough to say-
neither should you.
The panorama from Jack’s patio spans
cathedral spires and domes to the lake
dotted with sails that look like paper
adornments for one of the great drinks.
I hear laughter on this cement perch
long held by pigeons
and only recently inhabited with flocks
of people and the odd plastic owl
to ensure the cooing is restricted
to partners drunk enough to see
perfection in the flawed faces
and shaded eyes across their tables.
Today Wolfe’s turbines are turning
but I won’t be up there to see
them twirl in time with all the summer
skirts and sun-kissed hair
because despite its unparalleled views
all I can hear is Mr. Astor’s ugly claim,
“Our patios are like national parks.
Huge and filled with cougars,”
and that grounds me. Literally.
He may think his line is funny
and maybe in the naiveté of youth
I might have shrugged it off
but now it makes me want
to chop down his money tree
and ask him how he can fuel
a prejudice that will slap
his own daughters in the face
because those casual comments
allow morons to mock people
for the blood of life, seal glass
ceilings, make sex-slaves
and characterise theft of dignity
and the right to choose to say
yes or no as twenty minutes of action.
So no. I won’t drink to that
and I’m bossy enough to say-
neither should you.
Last edited:
Piscator
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 30, 2003
- Posts
- 1,904
Make mine C&W
Liberty’s free
Liberty’s free with her smiles
as she sashays down the aisles
Lord knows she must walk miles
specially on the slow days
She’s so easy on the eyes
midst these posers and their lies
always takes me by surprise
to find she's still here
Just a butterfly in the wind
never quite sure where she's been
can't go back and start again
though she'd sometimes like to
Like that Monarch soaring high
someday she’ll touch the sky
l just shake my head and sigh
and have another beer
Back home, she's had a row
With her new for always beau
too fast or else too slow
both leave her lonely
Till another comes around
to her dazzling smile bound
but his feet stay on the ground
and she flies solo
Just a butterfly in the wind
never quite sure where she's been
can't go back and start again
though she'd sometimes like to
Like that Monarch soaring high
someday she’ll touch the sky
l just shake my head and sigh
and have another beer
She asks if I like her dress
and I always answer yes
but like most here I guess
I'd rather see her naked
Even when she dances close
there's distance like a ghost
we raise glasses high and toast
another time and year
Just a butterfly in the wind
never quite sure where she's been
can't go back and start again
though she'd sometimes like to
Like that Monarch soaring high
someday she’ll touch the sky
l just shake my head and sigh
and have another beer
Liberty’s free
Liberty’s free with her smiles
as she sashays down the aisles
Lord knows she must walk miles
specially on the slow days
She’s so easy on the eyes
midst these posers and their lies
always takes me by surprise
to find she's still here
Just a butterfly in the wind
never quite sure where she's been
can't go back and start again
though she'd sometimes like to
Like that Monarch soaring high
someday she’ll touch the sky
l just shake my head and sigh
and have another beer
Back home, she's had a row
With her new for always beau
too fast or else too slow
both leave her lonely
Till another comes around
to her dazzling smile bound
but his feet stay on the ground
and she flies solo
Just a butterfly in the wind
never quite sure where she's been
can't go back and start again
though she'd sometimes like to
Like that Monarch soaring high
someday she’ll touch the sky
l just shake my head and sigh
and have another beer
She asks if I like her dress
and I always answer yes
but like most here I guess
I'd rather see her naked
Even when she dances close
there's distance like a ghost
we raise glasses high and toast
another time and year
Just a butterfly in the wind
never quite sure where she's been
can't go back and start again
though she'd sometimes like to
Like that Monarch soaring high
someday she’ll touch the sky
l just shake my head and sigh
and have another beer
UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
- Joined
- May 20, 2007
- Posts
- 15,794
I was beginning to wonder where you were!!
UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
- Joined
- May 20, 2007
- Posts
- 15,794
5 kids and running a business is making my time ridiculously scarce it’s soccer season for my boys and my daughter and I are boxingtogether twice a week they want me to fight by the end of the year and my daughter is a fucking rockstar with gloves on, she swings with the best boys in the gym, I keep trying to tell her it will al change when they hit about 15-17 but for now she’s damn good leaves little time for writing and critiquing and even being here
The one worrying me the most is still Greenmountaineer
Yes I know, very worrying
GuiltyPleasure seems to be gone as well but she wasn't so much a regular as she used to be.
GuiltyPleasure
AWTSS
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2003
- Posts
- 14,131
Yes I know, very worrying
I just dropped in for the 1st time in months. How are you doing?
AlwaysHungry
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Mar 24, 2010
- Posts
- 1,525
Me too. Same question.
GuiltyPleasure
AWTSS
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2003
- Posts
- 14,131
I just went back and took the boozy pub-crawl. What a ride. 
