Every Picture Tells a Story

By Silver Spun Sand

Sat, 10 Dec 2011

1784 reads

15 comments

He sits and studies
the clientele – bums
a cigarette from the barman.
Two men down their pints –
finish a game of darts.

A moth – orange and brown
studies him, studying them,
and also the light,
which drew each to this place.

A different bar –
a different evening;
the same moth – mesmerised
by a candle flame.

He sits
slumped in his chair
since yet another
one too many.
The candle weeps wax;
flickers, so dies.

Fancies himself an artist;
a piss-artist more like.
He’d made an art
of the unmade bed
long before Tracey Emin.

At chucking out time
he dons his leathers...
stumbles to his bike
and the moth, and he,
fly free...in starry skies.

Certificate PG

Miscellaneous

Comments

This is absolutely a stellar

Permalink Submitted by Steve on Sat, 2011-12-10 16:28

This is absolutely a stellar poem. Virginia Woolf once said that moths and butterflies are lower forms of angels. When I go to bars, I get a sense that many of these men are fallen angels.

Hey, thanks, Steve;-)

Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on Sat, 2011-12-10 17:06

Hey, thanks, Steve;-) Really pleased you got right to the heart of the matter on this one. Much appreciated. Tina;-)

Nice one Sand Lady. Steve

Permalink Submitted by ScoZen on Sat, 2011-12-10 18:14

Nice one Sand Lady. Steve reply to you has captured the scene in a nut shell "...many of these men are fallen angels..." Phew, I'm glad I go to a different bar?

ScoZen

Hi there, ScoZen...a lucky

Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on Sat, 2011-12-10 18:42

Hi there, ScoZen...a lucky escape, hopefully;-) Many thanks for reading and for your lovely comment. Sand Lady;-)

Silver, another bit of stuff

Permalink Submitted by scratch on Sat, 2011-12-10 18:59

Silver, another bit of stuff that focuces my attention for the right reasons. "the light which drew each to this place" ....is a lovely line of poetry when set in context with the rest. The step change between the first two stanzas and the rest does not jar in the slightest, simply fluid. The continuity of the candle image and the morphism between the moth and the man elevate the whole thing. If I could make one (tiny) observation I would delete the repetition of "starry" in the last two lines. I think it's really good, and I have read it several times so I think that that says it all. Thanks.

Hi there, scratch. Many

Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on Sat, 2011-12-10 19:41

Hi there, scratch. Many thanks for looking at this in such detail...and do you know what? I agree with you about the 'starry'. Your as ever, inspired comments, highly valued;-) Tina

Lovely wistful piece with a

Permalink Submitted by hilary west on Sat, 2011-12-10 20:55

Lovely wistful piece with a good ending!

Many thanks, Hilary;-)

Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on Sun, 2011-12-11 09:16

Many thanks, Hilary;-) Pleased you thought so. Tina

Thanks, so much, Stan.

Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on Sun, 2011-12-11 21:21

Thanks, so much, Stan. Tracey Emin...yeah, right;-) Tina

Hi Tina, I love the finer

Permalink Submitted by skinner_jennifer on Sun, 2011-12-11 23:16

Hi Tina, I love the finer detail in this poem. The idea that the moth is watching the biker, who is watching the clientele. Then he dons his leathers and they fly free in starry skies. I could picture the scene so well. Really liked this one. Jenny.

Thanks, Jenny. Really glad

Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on Mon, 2011-12-12 09:27

Thanks, Jenny. Really glad you liked;-) Tina

new Silver-Spun-Sand A

Permalink Submitted by Cavalcader on Mon, 2011-12-12 09:08

new Silver-Spun-Sand A stunning image poem. Yes,like Jenny I could picture the scene too. Beautifully explained. I had read it,day ago,now see worth cherries! thought so to. julie x Gale force winds expected 70mph. Pray won;t come,we got day centre,to church songs few singing! Hope your well and weather's calm. The engine computer we have all re-set, job know all right buttons press! Like a shop moves groceries around.