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 Feb 2016 Willard Wells
r
Bars
 Feb 2016 Willard Wells
r
I've only got one bar
on my phone and there's only
one more between here and home.
Ten dollars in my pocket may as well
be a thousand. Like a penny
in the fusebox, I could make it last
until the lights go out. There's a cowboy
band playing. A wooden Indian
by the door. I don't think he listens
to their stories anymore. He's quiet
on the subject. He's quite an object
of curiosity. Instead of two-stepping
all night long, maybe I should take
that Indian home. Use the last bar
to call Coleen. Tell her to put a ***
of cowboy coffee on. We'll tell stories
of our own. Sing songs in the old way
about better days when we were young.
wipe away your tears
your love is a rainbow
the sun is rising
Senses, vibrant and restless,
Drive into the depths
Of human consciousness,
Myriads of subtle impressions
And kaleidoscopic images,
While memory, ever alert and mercurial,
Recalls every relevant experience
For guidance in changing situations,
Giving rise to thoughts and impulses
That result in action and reaction.
To keep the mind well balanced
In life's daily toil and turmoil,
Intellect strives to harmonize
Conflicting thoughts and emotions,
Focussing them on a single aim,
To still the mind and bring calmness
To unravel the mystery of existence
And sages call this meditation.
            ***  M.G.Narasimha Murthy,
Hyderabad, India.  mgnmurthy4@gmail.com
there's a place between my ears
I haven't been to it in years
it's a place where the
serpents slithered
it's the place where
the roses withered
it's a place where
the demons shout
it's every candle
e'r snuffed out
it's crooked
fangs and
poison green
it's every
hardship
broken
dream
it's a
place
you
only
lose
it is
A
L
C
O
H
O
L

&

B
O
O
Z
E
I almost died there.
PLEASE
If you're on the
slippery *****

GET HELP
"Salvation Story by SoulSurvivor"
put that just as written here
in the site search engine
then click on "poems"
It'll come up

SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/9/2016
For her
he was always the man
on the other side of the table.

He was fond of it that way
so he could see her face
read the shades and lights
crack jokes through the grim times
when on the table was little
brimmed plenty in their hearts
and her tears when flowed
were not of unfulfilled needs
but a happiness she couldn’t grasp.

She doesn’t know
what she misses is love
or a mere habit.

She only knows
food doesn’t taste the same
without the man
on the other side of the table.
 Feb 2016 Willard Wells
r
She stopped at the light
outside the Double Drop D in Cortez
and looked me over

I was day dreaming about a girl
with finger cymbals
between shows

Her top was down
and I could hear Neil Young
singing Cinnamon Girl
on the radio

...*i could be happy
the rest of my life..
An old one from a long gone account. RIP Creeker. :)

Neil Young: Cinnamon Girl/Everybody Knows This is Nowhere/1969
#doubledropd
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