John Barr
He was born on 28 July 1887 he is a carter he loved to think of new cool poems and he died in 25 December 1971. Born in Duff town, Sideswipe, to a whisky-making family, he rose through positions of prominence in life and in the industry. I love John’s imagination towards everything because he describes lots of things in his poems. Produced to honor one of the great whisky entrepreneurs, Mr John Barr Cumming, the whisky makers at White & Mackay continue in that fine tradition of producing a superior Blended Scotch Whisky. The John Barr Reserve Blend is a smooth and rich whisky that is made from a blend of the finest malt and grain whiskies. It is aged in oak casks for a minimum of three years, which gives it a deep and complex flavor.
Here is one of his poems chanting for a hurricane and Dante at Shiloh.
Birds have left without a song, Morning light looks yellow and wrong. Airports close, so does the town.Winds pick up, trees blow down.Radios go on and on.Churches fill, church bells bong.The people are listening, listening.Born in a land Saharas away,Crossing an ocean to have its say.Crashing through town like a runaway train,Oh Breaker of Nations rain us your rain,Wind us your winds of course we’ll complain.But leave us alive with reason to sing,When you are done chastening, chastening.
I.I found myself in the aftermath.Cannonades had set the woods ablaze,felled whole trees, swept the earth with canisters and grapes. From bodies and body parts heaped up by musketry Aim low and be deliberate, boys.a strangeling crawled Blue or Gray.I couldn’t tell from the Mine balls last meal.Straining to break their cannon free,dead horses, still in harness, hauled.Voices out of the burning undergrowth wept for water as the field fell still.At the iron dice of war, both sides lost.Wild pigs won, squabbling over their feast. II.It started to rain and with it came a troupe of orators men of God,carpetbaggers of every stripe.Gingerly, to avoid the mud,stepped from one corpse to the next,crossing the swamp, slipping on blood.One started to speak, Brethren in Christ but stopped, perplexed, to see another man wearing his face. This progressed,speaker after speaker, until soon each searched in panic through the group,and when he found his stolen face, that one he mounted and buggered, like boar on boar in self love or loathing, I wasn’t sure.