That Night in the Bar

I'd been a long while away and as I stepped from the car

and pushed open the door that lead to the bar

the music, the smells, the dense smokey air

assailed all my senses, as I looked for a chair

I watched as my friend pushed through the crowd

and wondered why they needed the music so loud

I was finding it difficult even to think

as I sat in the corner and sipped on my drink

finally I got used to the sights and the sound

and started to take a good look around

there in the corners sat people like me

and at tables around, there were others to see

leaning on walls, they were not part of the din

glasses in hand, they were sinking within

I've seen musicians at work, channeling tunes

I've watched readers of tarot, casters of runes

I've seen people praying, down on bended knees

I've seen painters awestruck, before vast churning seas

and in that very moment, I began to understand

that life and that longing, walk hand in hand

what I saw in those faces, that night in the bar

was at the bottom of a glass, they were glimpsing that star

their eyes became shiny as they entered the zone

The gods were there with them, they were no longer alone

It was clear to me watching, that right there in plain sight

Neptune was there, in the bar room that night

Image - Saturday Night (Watercolour and Marker Pen)


Joyce Mason said...

Wow, Susannah! Neptune's energy is indeed palpable throughout this poem, and as usual, the illustration is just lush. Thank you for another oasis experience--where I could even relax and have an imaginary cocktail. It conjured many a time I spent in my twenties at my friendly neighborhood bar paying homage to the god Neptune.

Susannah said...

Hi Joyce, I am glad you enjoyed your imaginary cocktail. :-) thanks very much for dropping by and for your comment.

Firedancerx said...

Hi! I find this a deep and profound entry and I shall be visiting again to read it over slowly and seek the wisdom within.

A couple of days back I had a similar experience but in a vastly different context. It's alomost like looking at the same thing through a mirror image.

I went for lunch looking for something good and original. To me, the best food cannot be found in hotels and restaurants, but in places where people are closes to their true selves because their true selves get refelected in the food they prepare, no mateer how oppulent or humble these be.

There is a shanty town beside a railroad track and along the line of shacks, a particular stall sells very original homemade food. I went there.

I had rice, curry of chicken claws (these are the parts closes to the Earth), crispy fried chicken, fresh flaming chilly peppers and dessert of green pea porride and black coffee.

A monk walked past in me in robes of green (like the background of your blog, which is unusual since the ones I mostly see wear orange robes). As he walked past, he halted and turned to face me. He was young, wearing a gigantic necklace the went all the way to his waist and had a clear face that shone.

For a couple of minutes, the monk said some prayers which I could not understand and then he turned and walked away. I called back to him and slipped a few notes into a wooden bowl he held in his hands.

A short while later, the heaviest rain we had for some time fell in fill torrential blast. I stayed for a few hours until the rain stopped, then left.

I took some pictures. Some day, if I can find the free time, I'll blog about it.

Susannah said...

Hi Firedancer, Thanks for sharing your experience, (I could picture it from your description).

I like your observation - "To me, the best food cannot be found in hotels and restaurants, but in places where people are closes to their true selves because their true selves get reflected in the food they prepare"

I would enjoy seeing your pictures of your day, you should find the time to write a blog entry about it.

Thanks very much for dropping by and leaving a comment, it is much appreciated.


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