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 Jul 2020 Rich Hues
Violet Stage
That’s talent
Sniffing out drugs
Down two floors
Down deep in the recess
Of your drawer
Because it lay
Down deep in the recess
Of my mind
Down two floors
Stored for a slow
Calculated
Take down of your mind
Whilst it picks away
At my carefully
Orchestrated sobriety
Down deep
Layered over
With career
With kids
With paint
With healing sounds
Don’t come around here no more
But it do
But it do
Cause I’ve got a talent
for Sniffing out
The drudgery
For sniffing out
The dark side
Wars colliding in my mind
Cause the army I built is
Only as good as the fort I built in front of them.
And this nose. This nose..
I’ve got a talent.
 Jul 2020 Rich Hues
Violet Stage
5 dollars for the beer
And 5 for your sadness
Could have been something
But the light went out
Dust collecting to the right
It could have been dynamite
Champion of the come and unwind
Instead in creeps what the devil may find
Dreams don’t live here
Only remnants of better days
And the crackle of desperation
So 5 dollars for the beer
And 5 for your sadness
The least I can do.
Before moving on to the next spot.
 Jul 2020 Rich Hues
Violet Stage
Wake me
Like the scent of havdalah spices
That breathe life into a slumbering soul

Wake me
Like giggling from the other Room naughty kids
Plotting plotting

Wake me
Like the touch on my shoulder
Ever so close to my neck
Your fingers against my flesh

This empty bed pains me
But the prospect of a dead marriage pains me more

Daily grind finds me
Plotting; plotting

But days turn to wasted weeks
Only just plotting; plotting
 Jul 2020 Rich Hues
sheila sharpe
In the last quarter of our span
we do not walk alone
for there are other footsteps echoing
the steps of both woman and man
lighter are those steps and surer
as they tread beside our own
as we grow less sure recalling
hours, days, months, years
and decades that have flown
there is a faltering now and again
‘though only to us known
for those steps echo other times
when sorrows like weeds have grown
and,  just as frequently, there is a skip
- a lift of the latch of the years -
when familiar voices echo
and laughter accompanies tears
but eventually, there is a stillness
and we know then that we walk alone
realising that we are old now
and the child that was within us has flown
 Jul 2020 Rich Hues
Julianne
Can you believe it?
I still love you.
Five bottles down,
And I still love you.

Can't count the years anymore.
I don't know what to do.
My brain is high, unsober heart,
How will I unlove you?

You poisoned me,
Still hexed.
What's the antidote?
I wanna be sober.

**** this feelings,
I want a cure.
Please help me,
I'm overdosed.
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