It's my barstool and I'll rock on it anyway I choose

Observations from where I sit,drinking

All the old dogs gather and sneer

Salivating,howling.

Waiting for their Pavlov moment,

waiting at the bar for their owner to serve.

Stale smell of piss and cigarettes circulate,

it gives this place it's sweet smell of loneliness and forgoteness.

The split shoes are shuffled like a man taking his final steps,

kicking dust and gulping for air.

I have my seat,it's at the end of the bar,best seat in the house.

I can watch the dogs laugh at each other,cry over what was and what will never be.

I'm here because I want to be.

I didnt lose it over a whim,a woman or a horse.

I lost it over time.Apologies not made,choices not taken.

Like a scab getting picked away slowly,picking at my soul.

Each pick was more painful than the last.

Once that was gone,I aquired a new one.

Something else I hadn't done or someone I had let down,again.

Slowly picking myself apart,with a content smirk,

Knowing I had a blast.

Reviews

[Lourisa]

Firstly: I love the title! I want to go sit in the pub on the corner of our street and rock on my barstool too.
You have created a very vivid scene with your words and captured the mood perfectly.
The following lines reminds me of your poem about the machine:
"Waiting for their Pavlov moment,
waiting at the bar for their owner to serve." A strong theme for you perhaps?
I enjoyed reading this.

[Bob Sherunkle]

Possibly,never really thought about it.I just like to sit and a have a beer and watch pathetic Alpha males try and out do each other.I makes me laugh.

[Another Relic]

I think you've captured an authentic characterization of the corner bar night-life. A gregarious nature needs an outlet. Some travel the world, others travel to the nearest corner bar. I've seen some of those old dogs you speak of and I could easily relegate myself to a stool as well. Luckily for me, instead of picking up a drink I learned to play a instrument instead. But really, I guess I just handle the sorrows and regrets in a different way. The cleavage from the bar maid bending over in front of me never hurt either.

This is nice writing that is real. I like it.

[Ceej]

I love the grittiness of your poems. the lines, "I didn't lose it over a whim, a woman or a horse. I lost it over time." I liked, especially. Poetic realism at its finest, keep up the good work, man!

[Bob Sherunkle]

Thanks Ceej,thanks for taking the time

[Raymond Federle]

This was an awesome read man...loved it!

[Bob Sherunkle]

Hey Raymond,many thanks

[Trevor Barnett]

Reminds me of nights in Lincolnshire, when I was with my mates at the pubs; or, the nights in good old Alabama bars. People in the south really try to out do each other here. My favorite poem of your's so far.

[Bob Sherunkle]

I think it's the same everywhere,New York,London,Glasgow....drank in all of them and all that changes is the colour of neon

[R. L. Hill]

I would say this is one my favorites of yours. "Slowly picking myself apart, with a content smirk,/Knowing I had a blast." These are amazing lines. What a solid and wonderful way to end the piece. Your language was vivid too, which I specifically enjoy. Slowly but surely, Bob, I am falling in love with your work.

[Bob Sherunkle]

Oooooh,dont fallin love with it,it'll only let you down eventually!

[R. L. Hill]

Doubtful! Haha.

[Bob Sherunkle]

haha.I'll try my upmost to only post decent work.That's pressure already!

[R. L. Hill]

Just write for you, Bob. When you write what makes you happy, moves you, expresses pieces of what makes you an individual, we feel it. That is what I am coming to appreciate about your work. It is what I appreciate about anyone's work. You are giving me glimpses past your "mirror". Check out my poem Mirror, btw. I think it (and it's reviews) will give you insight to what I mean.

[Bob Sherunkle]

I shall do.As i've said before,i write quick before i forget!I'll check that out.

[Katie Nimmo]

It's very expressive. I like the setting of the scene with all the 'dogs' coming to one place from all walks of life with their problems. I would probably like the seat at the end too, watching the world go by dwelling on things i have or haven't done. One of my favs I've read so far on this site :)

[Bob Sherunkle]

Many thanks Kate,very kind of you.

[EloisaWrites]

I love the part when the character tells me that he didn't lose it over a whim, a woman or a horse. It is fascinating that he can enjoy himself and free himself of regrets over what was already gone or what was already done. Still, I wish the man real contentment when he retires and rest; not just because at the moment of the moments he seized, he had a blast but because after the moment has died, he proudly smiles. This is a great write. :)

[Bob Sherunkle]

Thank you so much.That was very kind of you.As I said to one of my friends on this site early on,I write quickly as half way through I would forget.Many thanks again.

[EloisaWrites]

Your welcome. :)

[00000000000000000000000..]

Awesome Bob I been there before, I gave it up though. I went to drown my sorrows and shame with a Jack Daniels Sour, It even hit my hour! I don't cry the river no more. I turned my tones to Blues Eric, BB, Muddy Waters to John Lee Hooker, That's how I deal it out now. Great write indeed Bob:)

[Bob Sherunkle]

Thanks Jonathan,much appreciated.I go that road sometimes,just for reflection/mis direction !

[0000000000000000000000000000]

Your very welcome Bob:) I hear ya, Nothing wrong with that Bob:)

[Donald Meikle]

Could almost sense the piss stone

[Bob Sherunkle]

Hi Donald,would you elaborate a little?

[Donald Meikle]

I was simply remarking on the image clarity, having been in Liverpool pubs before

[Bob Sherunkle]

I hear you.thank you