Tag Archives: grief

MAGDALENE by Jeffrey Littrell


underneath the marquee she was waiting

smoking her last Viceroy in the rain

beautiful, both angelic and demonic

Magdalene tried hard to mask her pain


she lived next to a pawn shop on South Harding Street

her fridge was stocked with nothing but Blue Nun

her smile concealed a thousand broken promises

she wanted to leave, but had nowhere to run


she faded fast, like smoke rings drifting free upon the wind

so curse your sympathy and damn your pious pity

Magdalene, I’m walking through this fire all alone

I’ll drive a stake through the heart of this devil city


the fog creeps like a cat tonight, across the Monan Trail

the moon is being swallowed by the night

on a dead end street, I am a shadow walking in the dark

while Magdalene is bathed in holy light










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




Black Ribbon, White Flag by Jeffrey Littrell

no one stands beside me
but my shadow on the wall
even in my dreams, I walk alone
my loneliness is painted grey
and hidden deep inside me
only to the mirror is it shown

I wish that I could take a knife
and cut the pain away
extract it like a tumor black with death
lest, this grief I carry
shall curse my remaining days
freed only when I reach my final breath

you don’t know what you have
until it’s gone, is what they say
I must convey I find this statement true
for the only time I felt alive
was when I held you by my side
the only one I’ll ever love is you

DAYS ARE LONGER by Jeffrey Littrell


my muse

everyday you seem further away

more gone than the day before


my eyes

have grown vacant

and cold since your passing


my love

is like a pail of water

that I spill into the dirt


my heart

a pump no longer primed

with valves rusted shut


my journey

a labyrinth of turns

testing my sufferance


there was nothing

no farewell,

no sweet kiss goodbye


I lie here

my heart calcifying

trying to recall every detail about you


ABIGAIL CHARMAINE by Jeffrey Littrell


a sprig of baby’s breath

is all that I have left

of Abigail Charmaine, of Devonshire

she passed, still in her youth

and no one knew the truth

of our sweet union, born from passion’s fire


her father cursed my lineage

questioning my parentage

concluding, I not worthy of her hand

his wealth and his position

the strength of his volition

ensured that all must heed to his demand


she’d steal away at night

kept well out of sight

and meet me in the mists of Avalon

a clandestine embrace

her moonlight-haloed face

an angel that the stars shine down upon


soon her visits ceased to be

he kept her locked away from me

the grief and sorrow tore my world apart

her sweet spirit, then her mind

left her in due time

until she finally died of broken heart


so now when moonlight’s gleaming

it starts my tears to streaming

evoking memories of my heart’s desire

she’s a distant weeping ghost

this one I love the most

Abigail Charmaine, of Devonshire

%d bloggers like this: