Angels Waiting In A Bar At The End of A Lonely World~

There’s a bar

in Barcelone

made of pyrite 

and prayers god forgot  to answer

layered in the old foundation

and walls;

sometimes the bar shimmers

and hops a ley line in the bent arm of mother earth

pounding for the last vein

and ends up else wheres

 

This week it insinuated its architecture

over a dance club at the Jersey shore

and o dear, can you see the sharks at the shoreline

lined up

the smell of blood in the air

their tattoos liquid under the sweat

and the pant pant, grunt

shifts the feathers from an angel’s wing

into the treasure of her spine

 

There’s another angel at the bar

disdain in her shot glass

her reflection in smudges

the crawling  boys beneath the dark web of her lashes

“forty lashes!”

and that would be Gabriel

the most bitter of them all

spurs in wicked quick silver

bullet eyes

boys with big egos left in oily stains

in the dust of his foot steps

 

Girl angel in blue

sings Peruvian blues

splinters in her puzzled night

dying is nothing new

“another!”

that would be Michael

elbow deep in his own tragedy

doing

shots

shots

shots

while LMFAO

pounds its incessant drunken joy

from a jukebox

 

What do angels do

without a god?

Well, like us, they make up their own rules.

 

There’s a bold girl

with bold hair

piled high

in laughter;

anything goes

goes the last call

for alcohol

welcome!

a whole lot of dying is about to begin

 

Angel blue

sings sea shore blues

at a quiet bar where drinks pour themselves

and the shots sound like trumpets

and the scrolls are burned

unopened

night

after night

in a bar

at the end of a lonely world

god forgot

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS REERVED

 

graphic photos copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Reese38]

I was thinking along the same lines as Lily, while reading your substantial writing. How you wrap the center of mankind's longing up in modern mythology and deliver it with shots that also hold cubes of irony, is genius.


Angel blue

sings sea shore blues

at a quiet bar where drinks pour themselves

and the shots sound like trumpets

and the scrolls are burned

unopened

night

after night

in a bar

at the end of a lonely world

god forgot


A powerhouse of a poem!

[arbitrary jane]

i agree with OT. there is plath in here... though not a copycat version by any means.
'a whole lot of dying is about to begin'
... and the entirety of the last stanza with the shot-trumpets and scroll references. expertly done.

to all the angels making up the rules as we go... pour out your vials.

[Robin]

"and the shots sound like trumpets
and the scrolls are burned
unopened "

and I run my fingers down my own scroll of memories , inner whispers of angels and "else where's"

[w2de35657u687y4324rf]

Wonderful, wonderful! This was truly a masterpiece. I was hanging off of every word like a begotten mother and an ice-box baby. The idea itself had such a wonderful feel "A bar at the end of a lonely world God forgot." And the individual angel references drove me crazy! The touch of this poem ascends the raw and fleshy feel of a living thing-- it embodies a dark mystique of something ethereal, but devastating, that crawls through marrows and muscle to burst anew into phantasmal infinities. 100/100. I only got caught up on the gender crossing with the angels, but I'm sure you had purpose for that. Wonderful, wonderful.

[OT]

LOL love the LMFAO reference - also loving your new voice in poems of late! this - dying is nothing new - ripped form your Plath-esque recesses - sitting so pleasantly alongside the images only you can create - the lonely world god forgot - what do angels do without a god... same as us I assume (oops but of course he's here....) - bomb each other and eat the earth outwards-in! ... only with wings I guess... lol - bravo!

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Living the high life comes with a price... I am thinking of these reality stars that crash to earth when there fifteen minutes of fame are up... brilliant poem.

[Amy Bumpas]

I love this...even angels aren't perfect...nothing is...

[.]

This is one hell of a poem..would like to see this adapted for a play..can you imagine..simply brilliant.

[Cafe Reader]

This is so rich! This is one of your poems that is begging to be developed insto a story!


Girl angel in blue

sings Peruvian blues

splinters in her puzzled night

dying is nothing new

“another!”

that would be Michael

elbow deep in his own tragedy

doing

shots

shots

shots

while LMFAO

pounds its incessant drunken joy

from a jukebox


Inside every stanza a story is wiggling to get out! Fantastic! Your imagination is scrumptious!

[Coyote Poetry]

I wrote a poem like this one. Your poem is much better. I like the description and the place you create. I often wonder if there are Angels. With the madness in the world. Where they would end up? Thank you for the outstanding poem.
Coyote