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WHEN THE COLORS CHANGE by Jeffrey Littrell


this poem is for she who stood beside me,

and while fighting off her demons

gently wrapped me in her love

this is written for my gypsy angel

who led me like a beacon

shining  brightly from above


in times of sadness, she would render comfort

in times of celebration, we would raise our glasses high

this is for the one who lay beside me

while the earth beneath us trembled

and the stars fell from the sky


when the colors change, it makes me think of you, dear

another year is ending,

like the closing of a door

I’ll live my life in tribute to your kindness

and in honor of your memory, mi amour



DEMETRIA by Jeffrey Littrell


I’m an expendable product of the Prozac Nation

fighting depression through self-medication

you might look at me with utter disdain

but you’ve not walked my path, you can’t feel my pain


she is a beauty of Greek descent

with dark eyes that are heaven sent

she walks into rooms with a sexy swagger

and a come-hither stare that cuts like a dagger


I can’t alter the past and not sure I’d want to

she is long gone and my friends left are few

alone in a storm, tears masked by the rain

southbound to Hell on this runaway train


NO CLOSURE by Jeffrey Littrell


like a man without a country

or a vessel lost at sea

I’m an outcast who is exiled,

a forgotten memory


I’m a musician with no instrument

a sun without a sky

I’m an unachieving, bi-polar, trainwreck of a guy


I’m a wild Appaloosa,

crazed and chomping at the bit

I’m a junkie with no drug of choice

who lacks the will to quit


I’m a pulpit that displays no cross

I’m a bullet with no gun

I have no sense of closure,

as my journey’s just begun


I’m a cosmic astral traveller

on a course from star to star

I’m the introverted loser

left alone at the end of the bar






one more sunrise you won’t see

one more poem you’ll never read

another wasted night alone

where you won’t call me on the phone


it’s strange to even say your name

it somehow doesn’t sound the same

no mirror reflects your image now

I wish you could return somehow


no one rides shotgun in my car

I sit alone now at the bar

when times are hard, when days turn black

I call out, but no one answers back







go ahead and run

run screaming like Linnea Quigley

from me, the disfigured monster


instead, you’ll crawl away

slithering into the brush, to hide

until I’m gone


{ The barista at Starbucks asked my name

with resigned apathy. Then, she had the nerve

to draw a smiley face in the froth

of my cappucino. Later that evening,

splashing through the pissing rain,

I rush into a bar off of Mass Ave. 


The Starbucks girl is the hostess.


“How many ?”, she asks me,

with the same resigned apathy as before.

She has no recollection of me,

or of the damned smiley face that she drew earlier. }


go ahead and run

run screaming like Jamie Lee Curtis

from me, the hideous leper


instead, you’ll lurk in shadows

listening with rapt attention

until I draw my final breath





Insignificant Other by Jeffrey Littrell


it’s sometimes a dismissive glance

or just a cold, hard stare

that breaks apart my self-esteem

laying my emotions bare


paths are left untrodden,

I’m perpetually alone

carrying a burden

that weighs heavy, like a stone


sunrises come and go, unseen

I sleep, but do not dare to dream

I reach for a hand that isn’t there,

imagining I smell her hair


I play my guitar, I don’t know why

my harmonica weeps, it starts to cry

the chords I strum drip sacrificial blood

as dark as a tempest, as deep as a flood




DEAD ON THE VINE by Jeffrey Littrell


I’m running through fire

I can’t catch my breath

is living without love any better than death ?


It’s hard to keep going

when you feel destined to fall

I just can’t get my head wrapped around it at all


under the radar

far off the grid

there’s warrants in Kentucky for the things that I did


4:00 a.m. in Nazareth

my sheets soaked with sweat

I’m losing my grip, but I’ve not let go yet


Crown Royal on the nightstand

right next to my pills

it’s neon and glitter and roadside cheap thrills


in search of redemption

because I can’t find a beer

don’t know where I’ll find it, but I know it’s not here


my love is a flower

that’s withered and brown

dead on the vine since the day you left town




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