Mr Barrett

A potter daily potters in the potting-shed

a wooden hut of memories, shed but kept

in years' souvenirs, moment-pieces past

his mind misinterprets them, eyes move too fast

furtively random, squirreling away

bits go, things stay, gathering nuts in May

antiques and rubbish, to the rodent all one

survival, nor existence, nor living, bar none.

In an unrecognizable place of what was

an unidentifiable face of why or because

the body continues, or seems to, at will

an echo of a function of a sickness, unstill

since there's nothing to recall beyond this plastic bag

there's nothing to store, sift, file, or flag

no shame or hatred for better days seen

saved the sad glory of what he once might have been.

Psychedelic heavens are hot-wired with colours

rainbows to Gods, but nightmares to others

for miraculous visions can sandblast the sight

of the fire-playing man seeking light for delight

to see everything, to never see anything again

complacency neglects to know Now is but Then

observe his flame, it burns only in name

hollow witness of a loser, to life as a game.

Remember, you're told of his long-lost potential

when you hear it's reduced to the merest essential

from acid-potent mushroom to damp, flaccid cabbage

less meaning left even than fire to the savage

more empty than a seashell silent of a wave

a hermit within a hermit's cave within a cave

his mind's now a bat-deserted, rat-perverted garret

he thinks he knows, for sure no more, they call him Mr Barrett.

Reviews

[Jane Taylor Hardy]

Wow a twisted fast paced road of words leads into a most interesting story. Nicely penned.

[Devons]

It's great that you should read this piece, not many have for some reason.
Your opinion and taste is very much appreciated. Thank you.

[Doreen]

I like the tone and the imagery. This comes over me with sadness and futility, yet, for some reason, there's a feeling of peace. I read this a couple of times. I like it.

[Devons]

I think the "peace" comes from the fat that he lost his mind! Thank you very much indeed, Doreen!

[sL]

The imagery is very well done. I am reminded of a woman I know. The following lines got me engaged in the poem and kept me reading:

furtively random, squirreling away
bits go, things stay, gathering nuts in May
antiques and rubbish, to the rodent all one
survival, nor existence, nor living, bar none.

There is a comfortable rhythm throughout the entire piece.

[Devons]

Thanks very much indeed for reading, and indeed for taking an interest. Gratifying.

[Crowley]

Its crazy the talent that started and continually ran through that band. I can't imagine being a creative genius and then succumbing to a life like that. To hell with what other people think of you, what do you end up thinking of yourself at that point. Unbelievable writing man...you are the master. Loved it.

[Devons]

Yeah, I know what you're saying. Though I think -and hope- that he hasn't been fully aware of that tragedy for most of his life since. He certainly wasn't the genius in the band even then but it's still a ruinous waste all the same.
Massive appreciation, brother.

[Beccy]

Hi Devons. I read the poetryfirst, then looked him up, the more to understand the man. I appreciated the poem and very much enjoyed reading it. :)

Beccy.

[Devons]

Good. Thank you again.

[Beccy]

I confess, I had to look him up. He was of my father's time and it seems he pottered for a long time in seclusion.

A complex poem that seems a perfect fit to a complicated man.

Beccy.

[Devons]

"Complicated" is a fine euphemism in his case, I think.
Thank you very much for reading. You needn't have looked him in order to read the poem though. I like to think it stands alone, except to those who are interested in him in particular (usually misled fans, I fear).

[emmajoy]

'.. .. but Then - observe his flame, it burns only in name - hollow witness of a loser, to life as a game.'

Love the seeming song of this.. read aloud the second time, tried my best to do its justice and now sitting with surreal graphics dancing in my brain! Not sure why, had to peep below and realise that your 'squirrelling' creature was a real live walking creature. (duhhh - Ignorant me)

So will focus on the meter, the flow, the placing of words, the picture built... all superbly put.

[Devons]

Thanks terrifically for your words, Emma. I don't think it's essential to know whom the poem refers to, exactly. I like to think that all poems should stand alone. I added the info just as a matter of interest.

[emmajoy]

.. and I was/am interested! I agree about a poem standing alone and yours certainly does. It's still playing in my ears.. enjoying the sound of it.. the deft touch of the words occasionally phrased in a very slightly jarring manner.. in other areas.. smooth, smooth as can be. Tis unusual and should be appreciated by many more reviewers.

[emmajoy]

Just looked at the picture by Syd Barratt.. he drew it in the year i was born!

[Devons]

Praise indeed, thanks.
That picture I think is perhaps indicative of his decline - I looked at some earlier ones and they were rather good.

[emmajoy]

Will look into his history.. more i think, the more things creep into my weekend mind. :)

[Devons]

I never rated him musically, but his demise is rather tragically interesting...

[Ken Simm.]

Shining like a crazy diamond eh? I like the way these words come together. It seems as if they shouldn't but they do and that illustrates the subject matter well. Excellent work lots to like and ruminate upon. Especially if you are a fan of the late lamented Syd.

[Devons]

Thank you very much, sir. Funnily enough, I think Syd Barrett was somewhat a one-trick pony who got out of his depth. I think Pink Floyd were re-born after him, and without him they became a true work of art. I do feel sorry for him though, all the same.