A Poem – Originally written & published in 2012 for Back Road Bars dot net, which is no longer online!

‘House of Bar’

Mine is a revolving door of joy and happiness, failure and despair, clarity and success, of loss and love and delight.

Mine is the consummate house of emotion, full of excitement, love, disillusionment, anger and fear. At times a house of ill repute as well a commune to the council of men. In my house I serve humanity, community and place. I am full of advice yet speak no tongue. Mine ears are always open. I hear from all who pass, and even of those who don’t. None goes without heed.

Throughout the age of man I am a house of salvation and pestilence. I do not pray nor preach, I just am. My divinity is pared of this earth. Not wrested, nor forced, but given. Cultivated, ancient and holy is mine.

My charge is of the people. I am a team player. I am friend and companion to much consultation. I am always open, and never alone. My trade comes in trouble and mirth as well happy times. My house is social and permissive. I share in the lives of others. Never letting, nor able to stand in the way. Just to be. Solid ground to stand, to endure, and pass ancestral vice.

A prophecy of sorts, I am born of the need of men.

Of hops and yeast and grape and rice, and wheat and grain, and fruit and root, and flower and seed. I am thirst to pride and joy, celebration and good times, and lay troubles, emotion and curse aside. I know all of good grace and of vice and disgrace. Yet let it be known, I am full of good cheer and in my house all are welcome and dear. For be you outside, cold wind or wet fear, in me burns hot and warmth and cheer.

I am beyond most concerns and happily so, as I feed from the hearts of good men and lost souls. I am dear to the heart of most cultures one knows, a part of this world both new and of old. For better or worse, I am heathen and gold.

Mine is a house in which all can behold, nay better off dead rather thirsty and cold. Mine is home to all whom enter, misguided or might. To those who partake and divulge, I judge not. I give in and absolve each everyman’s sin.

To bliss and good cheer, and contrariness where, mine is a house for all to share. In good times and bad, over land and by sea, all come to face the times we do see, all knowing from such times we often do flee.

To those who do not partake in my bliss, I believe, nay know, those to divine in their own special way. Not all believe in my means or my mode, but most would agree, if burned to the ground, I would resurrect once again from salt of this earth, to share again in each other’s fine mirth. I try none to despair, nor overly care, for mine is a house of whatever one dares.

Known by many names: tavern, saloon, pub and bar, and many more worthy of lore, but most of all for each and for all, I exist to share of love of good beer and cheer for those whom find my house one of comfort and care.

I am the house of bar.

© Kent McCracken 2012

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