The Bartender

Calm, collected, crowded by lip-bloated fans;
He’ll get what he wants even if his eyes drop
on the bashful enjoying fried pleasures.
Nights of hard work tipped by the body
and mornings paved by tired hours.
While Bob Dylan is singing about tangled Blues
he’ll weave his web – rugged looks
and enough drinks to boost charisma;
he’ll get what he wants even if his words
don’t run smoothly down her throat.
Calm, collected, crowded by lip-floated fans,
the bartender is king & only the night is his


The impossible mission

Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.

-Edgar Allan Poe from The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket

In my little chest of letters and notes
ink gilds the treasures with verbal delight
word lords decipher its beauty with quotes,
wobbling in farces when right does take flight.
Tongues they swerve in diverse definitions,
tones alter the shades of sentences’ flow.
Puns they praise the sublime intuition,
and punch those muscles of intellect’s glow.
But still, though sounds may vary in meaning,
buttons enclose the dark coat of the mind,
With eyes confined to terms when they’re screening
I see only that which I’m taught to find.
So alas, I’m a seed scratching the burr
of words which conceal what’s beyond their blur.

Silent Movie (2013) by Attila Szűcs. Click for official site.

Silent Movie (2013) by Attila Szűcs. Click for official site.