The stone face man

Everybody got a story. Some folks understand. No-one want to hear them anyway.

                             Stone face man

In old New Orleans 1993. I found a quiet bar. The music was playing low and the drinks were cheap.
I sat down near a old man staring at nothing and ordered a shot of Jack Daniel and a cold tapped beer.

I had my combat pay for going to war. I asked the man did he want a drink?
The man with the stone face didn't answer for a minute. Silence was his friend.
Words had turn useless and he wanted to be left alone. The stone face man turn to
me and told me. "Soldier, I take the same that you got. Good whiskey and beer keep us
blinded for a minute."

The bartender brought the drinks. We taps shot glasses and he toasted to my return safely from
the war and turned away. I knew his story. He was a observer now. Had a journal near with notes
and he wanted to be left alone. I saw the weight of pain in the eyes of the man.

I watched the people walking in and out. A pretty young red hair woman with a tank top and short skirt
came in. I saw in his eyes. They shined for a moment. I  knew he found a memory. He was wishing for
a time and place to go back to. When the woman disappeared. The stone face man stared forward.
This time his face  was less painful, like he was dreaming about a red hair beauty lost somewhere in time.

I asked him. "Was he a writer?" He handed me his journal. I read a few of his stories and poems. I ordered
more whiskey and beer. Whiskey is good for loosing up the conversation. I told him. You are a talented
writer. Are you published?

The stone face man looked at me and told me. "Old words and stories because private and no-one  really
cared. We all leave something behind and you cannot find them no-more.'

I watched his sad eyes as he spoke. He told me "A gift for the whiskey. I will write you a poem for you to try to forget.
                      "      Time and wine

Time is gold. Love is a precious diamond and auburn hair girls will steal your heart.
Cheap wine and good times make you forget what is true.
Sweet kisses and lovely eyes will turn cold if you are not honest.
Karma is a fair time keeper. We will wish for seconds, minutes and hours we cannot have anymore.
Foolish men learn too late to say less and they should of loved more."

I ordered another Jack Daniel and beer. The bartender brought them to us.
He touched my glass with his whiskey and told me. ' I wished I knew you can't be forgiven.
I wished I knew love can be murdered. Foolish men turn paradise to hell not caring till
it is to late. Listen to the stone face man. I have nothing left and I 'm waiting for no-one. You are
young. Leave this cold and lonely bar Soldier. Maybe you will find the red hair girl. Get lucky and get a
dance and smile. Don't be like me. Kill anything good that got near."

I ordered a double shot of Jack Daniel for the writer friend at the bar and  I left him with a handshake and he gave me a salute goodbye. He left me with old man wisdom. He taught me  life was fair. If you reach out with love and kindness as your lead. You will be okay. If you want everything and swim in booze.

You can become the stone face man waiting for no-one.

                                      Coyote
                       Written in 1993/ rewritten in 2014

Author's Note

Old poetry with a re-write.

Reviews

[Lydia Shutter]

"Good whiskey and beer keep us blinded for a minute." What a sad line and how descriptive. Sometimes the grim voiceless faces sitting around the darkened neighborhood bar just need to escape. If alcohol can do that for them....even for just a few minutes....they turn to the bottle. Old stories....does anyone really care? I think some people do...and they are the lucky ones. Listening to the stories people tell can teach a person so much. The flash of a smile in his eyes proved he still had good memories...that was a sweet touch. Time IS gold, my friend. Cherish every minute and never stop telling us your stories. I know I am interested....and fascinated. Lydi**

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Lydia. I'm rewriting poetry and story from 1991-993. I was in those bars a lot. You are right. We can learn from strangers.

[Daisie Vergara (Dhaye)]

You have learned a lesson from that stone-faced man. Now, we also learned from him through your story.
Indeed everybody got a story. We just have to understand that every experience in life teaches us lesson/s that we should remember.

"Time is gold", always and forever a very meaningful quote for me. As you see from my pieces, I value time so much. Every moment is a gem. We can't take back the time which had passed anymore. So every moment, love is my greatest aim.

Thank for sharing this amazing piece, CP.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right. Time is gold. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[Daisie Vergara (Dhaye)]

Haha! Just paying back,CP. You're too generous yesterday. =)

[Pryde Foltz]

Good whiskey and beer keep us
blinded for a minute."

You'll have to excuse my presumption but you piece inspired me to perform a duet.

Blinded with duct-tape
and man does it sting
when after a minute
and another shot or two
those blinders ...
are abruptly removed

Fabulous short-story poem.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you for reading and the comment. I like your addition also. Be blinded by the booze is a short time repair.

[Frieda P]

I adore your stories Coyote, everyone has one, but your's are so endearing....and N'awlins in one of my all time favorite places on earth, I can picture this scene coming to life before my eyes..

"I wished I knew love can be murdered. Foolish men turn paradise to hell not caring till
it is to late "

Awe inspiring read my friend....cheers.

[Coyote Poetry]

New Orleans was a great town. Had a different feel now. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[Frieda P]

Haven't been in years, my son was there not long ago, he said it's changed, same great food, drink, music and people though....my pleasure John.