Paul Davis in Barcelona Part 1

An aging man's memory

PAUL DAVIS IN BARCELONA, Part 1

He stands with a brown blanket
cloaked around his body, head
wrapped in a ragged cloth, a
shepherd with a recorder and a
bag of wine, playing for his sheep.

No. . . it’s a photo taken in a small
pension in Barcelona, Spain, Oct.’70.
Paul is not a shepherd, but a twenty
year old from Indianapolis, Indiana.
He wears army issued eye-wear and
    a twentieth century watch.
Short and skinny, a self-styled
mid-western bohemian, he’s traveled
from Schweinfurt, West Germany
with his slightly older, poetaster
buddy; they want to see what Europe
            has to offer.
Normally, they wear o.d. green, but
on this day they are pilgrims of North
American birth, looking for adventure,
    as Steppenwolf then sang . . .

        in whatever comes our way.

                              ❖
Just a week before . . .
albeit beautiful in early October,  
Paris, being aloof, was an existential
bust: chased away by shopkeepers
with reasons of their own, green peas
and mashed potatoes way overpriced,
backpacks heavy in all their walking,
and lost somewhere along the Seine.
Near the Eiffel tower, a girl from
Nova Scotia helped these travelers
find their way to the Gare de Lyon.

   (To be continued)    

Author's Note

Paul Davis in Barcelona is a long narrative poem . . . so it will be posted in different installments. Davis was an army buddy who I took leave with in the Fall of 1970. When I think back on those days . . . I realize now how naive we were traveling the rails of Europe, anxiety clinging just below the surface of our nonchalant pose.

Reviews

[CD Campbell]

I'm a fan of narrative verse so I like this. Your beginning, I thought, was a great descriptive introduction. You set the stage well. Reminds me of when I saved up 3000 after my stint in the Navy to backpack europe. I met someone, bought a car, never been. Dont regret it though. This is good stuff.

[barleygirl]

I'm already falling in love with your epic poem & intriguing storytelling. I have all installments spread out before me, as I've waited for a time when I could relax into this! *smile* Fondly, Margie

[Eilis]

I wonder how long this will be...if it's just the three parts you have posted. It feels like a novel in verse. I love adventure stories, especially when they result in personal growth.

I love the beginning because it sort of gets at the motive of the two travelers, as I read it so far. They want to be a part of the places they are going, in so much as that is possible. It's funny when we try to do that there are a lot of details about ourselves that we don't notice that give us away.

Lovely details and descriptions in this. I look forward to reading the other installments.

[kentuck14]

Thanks E for the detailed review.
T

[Crowley]

What a great way to express an experience. I love what you say about anxiety and nonchalance in the post script...so telling. I love the slow even rhythm of the piece, and the solid description of the characters. I can smell and feel the exploring of a strange place where being out of place is the days work and wondering what is next becomes one of days meals all in itself. Wonderful stuff my man. Can't wait for part 3.

[kentuck14]

C,
Thanks for the enthusiastic review.
T

[jacob erin-cilberto]

an emphatic "yes" to this...
I am travelling with you in this, you make it come so alive...
the idea of Paris being a bust...sometimes what we want so badly when we finally get it, we find the dream was better than the reality...
j.

[kentuck14]

Yes, I'm afrais you might be right. Thanks J.
T

[Samuel Dickens]

Finely written, it set my mind to thinking. I may have seen y'all there. Barcelona was our first liberty port, (USS Saratoga CVA-60) and I did, indeed see folks like you describe. I remember one of them telling me, "Take off that uniform and join us!" Though I didn't, I secretly felt a bit of envy for them.

[kentuck14]

It was a very friendly city . . . nice people. Thanks for commenting.
T

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Enjoyed the first stanza as it begins to drawn in the reader with a mystery that seems Mediterranean. Then the true picture is revealed giving us a descriptive narrative of Paul. The final stanza once more embeleshes the scene setting with a cameo of the journey.

[kentuck14]

john,
thx for commenting.