Introduction Dec.2006
To
The One Man Bar
For a friend I’ve never seen
Nor will I ever see again
A lot of the songs, poems, ramblings- call them what you will
Things dug up from the scrap yard of my heart,
Were fashioned down here in this old one man bar
It’s where I come to, when I’m summoned, when she calls,
(Whoever she is!), when the need to write, is an all consuming passion,
And nothing else matters
No-one bothers me here, because they know that I’m “working”
They say I’m a bit strange, but that’s ok, I think we’re all a bit strange
In one way or another
All the things in here are all of the things I’ve done with my life
(Those that I can remember at least),
It’s like a scrap book, filled with thoughts, whispers, dreams and memories,
Of hard times and of good times
All conjured up with a dab of poetic injustice here and there,
And if you’ll pardon me dear, I have shared an evening or two with you right
Here…
…The girl with midnight eyes and olive skin; my fantasy friend…
How sincerely have I loved you,
From this old smugglers den
Always remember;
To your heart be kind
And it will stand every test
Don’t lose touch with your mind
And let God do the rest
One Man Bar
1
I’m goin’ on down to the one man bar
Ain’t no big trip
Just a hop and a skip
From the kitchen’s back step
And here you are
Tonight, the sky...
She’s in tatters and rags
The leaves, like dead heroes
Are coming down in body bags
And the devil’s behind the wheel
Of this gale force north-wester
Weaving a trail of destruction
Through a nightmare jungle
Of alien trees
And a hung-over moon, is expected
To be out there real soon
It’s a perfect night to be slipping away
Got my pocket knife
And a hunk of cheese
Gonna’ dig up some ol’ memories
What more can I say?, whisky can’t wait
And it really ain’t that far
Just a hop and a skip
From the kitchen’s back step
To the one man bar
2
In here, the beer’s always friendly and cold
And you’re never too young
And you’re never too old
Don’t pay no attention
To what the neighbours say
They were never a part of your dream anyway
Shadows, they whisper to each other
From every corner of this place
And I come down here
Every now and then
Just to listen
And I can see a face, in every rafter, every beam-
Here’s some laughter, here’s a smile, and they seem
To know what I’m after;
“Come on in and join us awhile”
You know, loneliness never goes out of style
And you can get all you want down here
And it really ain’t that far
Just a hop and a skip
From the kitchen’s back step
To the one man bar
3
And there’s a picture of Jesus
All cobwebbed, suspended
Over an empty bottle
Of tequila-
Strange ways have we travelled
Strange things we’ve become
My two old friends;
My healer
My killer,
One who sews me together
One who pulls me undone
-oOo
Old ships’ telephone, never been used
Don’t think Alexander
Would be too amused
But he’d understand if he knew
That it’s been disconnected
Since the “Sea Witch” went down
On a night just like this
The crew were all pissed
When she started to list
And no-one ever got found
And she’s been silent since then
She wanted so badly
For someone to call
On the final death dive
The only one to survive,
She hangs on my wall
4
So let’s just say that you called
Said you’re comin’ on over
Wrote your name on the wall
Next to your number
Don’t knock, just come in
Bring your midnight eyes
And your olive skin
And we can share a seat between
The red and the green
Of those old seaman’s lanterns-
Should’ve been fixin’ the patterns
Of what was left and what was right,
They’re still out there
On the Ocean
Of dreams tonight
-oOo-
And you can show me your scars
And I’ll show you mine
And we’ll talk about things
Out of space, out of time
And we’ll drink all the whisky
And drink all the beers
Ain’t gonna’ forget this night
For the next hundred years
And I’ll play my guitar
While the moon is receding
Soon the sun’ll be up
Red and swollen and bleeding
But there’s still enough time
To catch that shooting star,
She’s comin’ on down right now,
And you know, it ain’t too far,
Just a hop and a skip
From the kitchen’s back step
Down to the one man bar
5
And all the while, time slides silently away
Leaving what’s left of us
To the shadows of
One more yesterday’s dust
I’ll put on my ol’ ray bans
And have one for the road
And one for my baby
Hope she made it back home
And its one lonely old bar stool
One lonely old man,
One busted guitar string
That’s where I am
And staring back thro’ the mirror
Of Grafton’s centrepiece
James Dean’s crashing his Porsche
Was it fifty-three?
And on some back road of my memory
With slicked-back hair and blue jeans
Someone’s trying to find out
What life’s all about
And what it all means
And he’s carrying a guitar
But he’s only a kid
He’s looking for Elvis
Gonna’ do what he did
With all the fierce determination
Of youth
The sweet, blind innocence,
Now, all these years later
Life still don’t make much sense
-oOo-
But you gotta’ keep searching
For what’s right and what’s true
Hold on to Jesus,
Whatever you do
There’s still a song left
Maybe it’s this one
Or maybe the next
So we’ll leave it undone…
Epilogue
Two days later, the weather has cleared
Both inside and outside me
I’m still here
No more devils or demons,
They’ve done their worst and their best
They’re still sneakin’ around
Somewhere, I guess
Maybe just takin’ a rest…
I suppose,
There will always be a place
Where dark doors have been opened
And can never be closed
Be gentle, with all the gentle things
That you may find
The ones in your heart
And the ones in your mind
We’ve trashed a few brain cells
We’ve broken some bones
Rung a few church bells
And thrown a few stones
And I wonder if you will remember me
For there will always be
A special place in my heart for you
Wherever I go
Whatever I do
And if I’m ever back this way again
You can just get on
The old midnight train
Bring your diamond eyes
And your raven hair
And we’ll take a ride
To God knows where
Meet me down by the alien trees
And we’ll look up some ol’ memories
After all,
You know, it really ain’t that far
Just a hop and a skip
From the kitchen’s back step
On
Down
To the one man bar
Copyright John Scott 2006
Author notes
Dedicated to the home I left behind back in Cape Town S. Africa, I built this old shack myself, down by the Louwrens River I miss it like hell...
The picture is of my younger son Simon, this was sent to me recently, he looks like a ghost of myself...I love him so much, and hope we'll be re united soon...
Comments
1 - 23 of 23
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Amazing
Another one written from the heart. I feel overwhelmed in parts when I read this especially where you say you will never see your home again and missing your sons. Very well put across and again excellent writing but very emotional. Think I need a tissue D x
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Thank you Doe for the kind words, it's a pity once more, that the pictures have been taken down...they tell a story in themselves!
I appreciate you taking the time to read through this one, it means a lot to me
John
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No problem, I will get round to reading some more soon.
D x
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John , we all need that special place where we can be all the things that make us who we are without anyone sitting in judgement or casting frowns. Heaven and Hell we live them both....Excellent writing from the heart...So many thanks for sharing such personal feelings my friend.....mal
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Yes we do...
heaven and hell, we all have our own little interpretations don't we...? no matter... speak what you have to speak, say it your way...maybe someone is out there right now who'll understand what you're trying to say
If we do not speak from the heart, then from where else, and for what purpose are our words designed...
Thank you Mal
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This is wonderfully good especially i like the beginning of v3 and theres a picture of jesus all cobwebbed suspended seriously deeply moving write my friend
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Thank you friend...
Oh! I'm a lil' fish too it's all about searching, I been down some one ways, but I keep on coming back, cuz one ways just get ya lost in the end ,,,there's always another bend, another bend...lalala
tell me if ya know, "what is true...?"
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I dont' think I did read this before. And I totally understand!
I had a place like that too...but inside myself. Love these words:
And you can show me your scars
And I’ll show you mine
And we’ll talk about things
Out of space, out of time
And we’ll drink all the whisky
And drink all the beers
Ain’t gonna’ forget this night
For the next hundred years
Wonderful writing John!
Pam
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Well...
It might be a bit longer than a hundred years...
Thanks for taking time to read, I know it's kinda long, but then, how do you measure forever...?
John
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beautiful deep and true
found you through one of your comments on yvette.loved it and this was the best piece i've read in a long time.come on up to the house, four strong winds this creates a lovely tonight i'll be staying here withyou feel.keep strumming away on the strings of the mind brother you make great music.
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thanks for dropping by...
and for the real nice words you wrote on the wall...that old bar is filling up with more and more memories every time someone stops by!
I'll take them with me when I go...
cheers buddy
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This is awesome, I totally love it...with all these amazing comments there's little I can add...however I am glad that you have shared this.
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Thank you Jesaan...
Every little comment goes a long long way my friend, I'm happy that you took time to drop by...next time we'll have a beer or something...!
John
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Bless all that is Liam...I agree...Poetry E Motion....Your one man bar sings with a lyrical call for harmony...for the land you left and for where you have landed...yes...many roads traversed within the walls of the building of the self and the self building in a land that is like a distant lover...calling your spirit home...they say home is where the heart is...there is no surgeon on earth that can suture a highway and bypass the bits we left behind of us and are only ever a thought away yet out of arms reach...how do we find solace in what we miss...maybe by being thankful that it existed in the first place...ahhh many names are written in dust and many effigies of jesus are adorned with cobwebs...yet what matters matters...jesus cannot die again or get lost...only if you believe in him and then lose that are you lost...maybe we have to suffer to see what was a joy that we previously took for granted...maybe the neighbours that aren't neighbourly are walled up inside their own one man bar or worse have two sitting at the table that have nothing in common and are there only by circumstance and not freewill...whiskey is warm company when there are only cold cuts to dine upon...but the devilish thing is it elevates the mood of the groove that you drink it with...it will not drown sorrow but add to it and throw other drowning portents into a sea of thoughts...but with good music and a hat of high hopes worn with a tilt...whiskey will be a dancer and let the legs be free to dance and live with their own rhythm...please pour me a double with ginger scwheppes...have quite a thirst after all this yakkety yak lol...or in coffee hot black and strong...like a black and decker that scythes through an overgrown garden still humming the same song...
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How extremely odd...
that as a first read, you picked this poem, but I am so glad you did, thank you my friend...y'know what, I just had the strangest thought...no, wait! let me rephrase that...I extend to you a very cordial invitation to come on down to the one man bar...Liam's already there so we better hurry, before he quaffs all the whiskey...lol
what a trinity that would make!
what an unearthly night!
A hundred miles an hour with no handbrake!
outta f***ing sight!
cya there lol
John
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Poetry E -motion
John,
First,
Thank you for bringing this one to me.
I gave it a lot of attention
and read it 2 times....
stared at it...
drank it in...
and then went in
for the killer read.
Taking each line slowly
and milking out every last emotion
that you so lovingly put in to this work.
When a man sits to write such a piece
the reader must encompass what drove him
to reflect on the chapters
that so swallowed his being
to put it in to words for the world to see.
There are no quick Allpoetry slogans
or glad tidings of 'good work'
or 'oh boy you sure can write'
that should accompany or follow this epic
that is a huge part of your life.
The rafters and sounds and sights of that time
and that place
is more a ghost......
almost a body feeling...
that takes you over
when the slightest thought of it
comes to your mind.
Now
thanks to you...
It is a very real place to me.
My head was dizzy with spirits
as I imagined sitting on that one bar stool
that you let me sit
in because you are a gentleman..
looking at the sea witch
and asking about the tequila
and why ya never replaced
that old string on that old guitar
that is your friend...
and not tellin me about that step off the kitchen
to see if I would stumble so we can both laugh
at our inebriation....
while I ask if that good old gal
with the olive skin
has a friend for me.....
while I remind you
ya don't need those old ray bands
cause its night time..
but admit ya look pretty cool...
[like George Harrison...lol]
That one man bar....with all those voices....
all those shadows and silhouettes
that call your name
will now have me as one more.
A mans life.....
with all it's gloom and glory....
a part of you still roams those floor boards ... echoing in the rafters...
footsteps of paths
that wander to the sky
to catch those shooting stars
that light those lanterns
that honor those dead hero's
that you never buried
and replaced their bodies
with leaves
to fool the undertaker.
You say it ain't far..
and that is true
when measured in miles
but when measured in time
you must travel far...
far back in the corners of your mind...
that you can reach for and hold dear.
This also was held in the same realm for me
as the tune...
The Day The Music Died...
winding in and out of circumstances of comfort and loss.
I just can not read into this enough John...
Its proportion and depth is beyond compare.
It is your soul...your masterpiece...
and from this time forward your one man bar will always hold one more friendly ghost...
cause if you go back ..
and look real hard ..
you will see me...
hear my whisper among the others...
because you showed me how to get there.
Unbelievable John...unbelievable.
KEEP ON PUSHIN BROTHER,
STRAIT AHEAD,
LOWELL
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Phew...!
Well, that's one heluver comment from the master of poetic perfection...how on Earth will I ever be able to thank you; repay you for the time you have freely given to read this lengthy poem...Lowell, this poem probably means more to me than anything else I have ever written, as it is all about ghosts, loneliness, and memories, and to top this, it was written during the last few months prior to my final departure from Africa to "return" to England...do you know what I mean, I drank and I wept my way thru this whole saga, which in itself, was slowly becoming the memory of all menories...I actually designed, and built that little wooden refuge...wrote poetry by candlelight when the power was off...sadly, the only photo that I have of it, is inside my mind, where it will always be...I have asked my son John who is still over there, to send me the negatives i shot but left behind, I would love you to see them, if I can get someone to do a BG of a ghost and somehow include it sitting on the solitary barstool in the photo, it would be great...
As for you my friend...hey! welcome to my world, to my dream, to my One man bar...hell,yeah, we are way, way, overdue that beer or two lol...stumblin inebriated down the kitchen step...what a pleasure man...how the hell we ever gonna get it together...hey, I got another old guitar now, but it'll never be like the one i left behind, lol sometimes, I think that all guitars are brothers, like they all know each other...y'know all the old songs i used to play, well, I play them still on the guitar i got now, and seeing that all music resonates, then who knows that the notes and melodies don't connect up together in the vast melodrome in the sky or wherever it is, where they greet each other, and chat about the good ol' days...maybe even over a beer lol...well, why the hell not...what say you my brother of the endless hiway...thank you sincerely for your much valued time and above all, friendship
John hmblpye
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Authentic
You certainly look like a poet and you write like one too. I like guitars and Jesus, but I can't afford to drink. I'm dumb enough already. Best Wishes to a very philosophical poet! P.S. I have no friends. No one has ever liked me. I will die a lonely unwanted and forgotten person. Best Wishes!
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Thank you Wesley....
for looking me up and for the comments you made, y'know pal, there are a lot of people like us around; lonely, been down too many dead end roads; some scars don't heal too good... you got a friend... and I reckon I just got one too! talk to you later
John
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It isn't true that everywhere we live is home, where we grow the most, where we leave those rag-tag bits of our soul..that's home. Be it a barn, a shack, a bridge where moonlight peeks thru, or the limb of a peach tree a little closer to where God whispers in our ear.
It's mournful, it's a connection, it's truth.
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Thank you Maddie
I appreciate yr comments with a greatfull and humble heart they mean so much to me,thanks for giving me yr time, in reading this
John
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My God! I read every word! And I was ever so captivated, this is so beautiful and sad at the same time. Every time you write, your imagery is so descriptive I feel as if I am standing right there, this has to be your best peice, by far! I absolutely loved it, and it is definently "my cup of tea." This is an amazing write, so full of life and love, there are no more words I could find to reach this point of distinguishment in your writting! you are so talented, you are certainly in your element here. This should be published-it is wonderful, beautiful-amazing...I am at a loss of words...Thankyou for sharing this!
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You are the only one...
that reads my long poems, so I guess I post them for you alone, you are such a precious friend, loyal and true
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