Monthly Archives: September 2012

remission, Rejection, RELAPSE by Jeffrey Littrell


left to bleed out

ignored and dismissed

like trash set out on the street


it is a world

for the confident, the beautiful

the stout of character

not the plain or disfigured

not the weak, crippled outcasts



coughing up anguish

with black bits of emotional bile


breaking down

still further down

with frailty as evident

as hair-line cracks

on a sparrow’s egg


I’ve still got some hurtin’ to do

I still have some pain left inside

it stays in my dreams, it won’t leave it seems

no matter how hard that I’ve tried

I’ve still got some hurtin’to do


I’ve still got some tears left to cry

I can’t get her out of my mind

I’ve drank all my beer, her ghost is still here

her sweet perfume lingers behind

I’ve still got some tears left to cry


it’s time to get my life on track

get rid of this misery inside

I’ll work hard to lose, these broken heart blues

that she left me with, when she lied

it’s time to get my life on track


while I still have time on this Earth

I’ll try to live right and not wrong

stay away from bad places, and sweet tempting faces

until a good woman does come along

I’ve still got some loving to do


stay away from bad places, and sweet tempting faces

until a good woman does come along

I just wrote my first country song   J



the smell of poppy-scented candles

wafted from hidden votives

my reflection was in her window

coyly masking hidden motives


in a turquoise mini-dress with pearls

and that perfume I adore

she kicked off her high heels

and laughing, pulled me to the floor


wrapped inside her sweet embrace

conquered and entranced

my head was spinning dizzily

yet my senses felt enhanced


your pirouettes and violent kisses

now linger on my mind

a sweeter tasting grape, I know

that I shall never find

LIKE HORSES by Jeffrey Littrell


like horses

swift and free

that roamed the western plain

with eyes ablaze

and hearts afire

side by side, we ran untamed


the whole world

belonged to us

the future held such promise

we stood up

against the naysayers

and every doubting Thomas


the journey

was the reward

we traveled many miles

we drank deeply of the wine

we endured

so many trials


now we’re older

our strength is waning

and we’re on two different courses

but our spirits will run together again

through eternity

like horses

THE OLD ONES by Jeffrey Littrell

an enduring sense of loss

a timeless sorrow shall remain

from the genocide of cultures

red apocalyptic rain


scars upon my heart

from wounds so long ago sustained

driven from the sacred land

where no buffalo remained


the spirits of my ancestry

still try to teach and guide

I feel a hand upon my shoulder

when my pain will not subside


late last night, I heard an owl

it’s mournful cry of warning

I feel The Old Ones coming soon

I laid awake ‘til morning

%d bloggers like this: