James Douglas Morrison

A musician, and a poet who was never taken as serious as he wanted to be. I would have loved to explore this man’s brain. Born in the wrong era. Pam and Jim were the perfect storm. Messy chaotic… but the sun still shined, and flowers still bloomed. Till death. 💛

Advertisements

Willie Nelson

Willie Nelson is a jack of all trades. He even writes a poem from time to time. Getting older can be downright depressing. The golden years aren’t so golden. They can be the coolest, most uncomfortable winter you’ve ever experienced. But you can also stop to look at the beauty in the snow.

 

Anyhow…

Willie Nelson, I love you!!

Happy 84th birthday to one of the coolest men out there!!

….and thank you Both Kinds of Music in LA on KCHUNG radio for providing lots of Willie Nelson for our listening pleasure this morning.

Now for a poem from Willie himself-

 

“I have outlived my pecker.”

The Penis Poem–by Willie Nelson

My nookie days are over,

My pilot light is out.

What used to be my sex appeal,

Is now my water spout.

Time was when, on its own accord,

From my trousers it would spring.

But now I’ve got a full time job,

To find the f***in’ thing.

It used to be embarrassing,

The way it would behave.

For every single morning,

It would stand and watch me shave.

Now as old age approaches,

It sure gives me the blues.

To see it hang its little head,

And watch me tie my shoes!!

Grocery Grandeur

The wind howls in the cool wet darkness

The rains ease graciously

The heavy truck door is forced shut by the storm’s breeze

Only to be stopped from latching shut

 by my knee…

ACK!

Synapses

send sparks

and flames

to my brain

The knee burns

and throbs

Maybe it bleeds

Not enough to soak through my jeans

Hey, you got any cash??

I need a hotel room tonight, and I ain’t got no money. 

Sorry, man.

No cash here.

Fluorescent lights

Pupils constrict

Coffee beans

Organic

dark blend

Chocolate, Citris, Almonds.

White wine

Chardonnay

Vanilla, Oak, and Apples.

An overly talkative checker

You two find everything okay?

Oh wait, you aren’t together…

Well, that’s awkward…!!

Now is your chance….

You can crack open your breath mints before you talk to her if you want.

The poor twenty something froze.

His tennis shoes probably a gift from mom,

shortly before she became an empty nester.

All he wanted was his nutella snack,

and his ice breakers mints.

He fumbles to get through the line.

Still he does not turn back.

Back to the cool dank night

Dog kibble scattered on the ground.

Her pupils

pin point

dark to light

light to dark

pin

point.

Well, NOW can I have money.

Sores cover her pale face

Short hair knotted sporadically atop her head

No, you cannot have money.

I am not your ATM.

The dog eats her kibble

off the concrete.

A sense of entitlement

used by instability.

Drunk off the overindulgence of humanity.

-K. K. Powell

 

 

 

 

The end of the day

At the end of the day.

There is nothing more to say.

Be grateful for what came with ease.

Wash away any thoughts which brought you to your knees.

Because at the end of the day…

It is only the self which you really need to please.

-K.K. Powell

Poem: Wet blanket

K.K. Powell

A cloak sweeps over her…

Shoulder to shoulder.

The truth was…

you were never really all that good at stoking the fire.

That spark…

was cursed-

to never reach a flame.

To your disdain.

The spark lay in her ground-

with only a smoulder.

The cloak was your last magic act. 

just to hold her.

Suspended…

She lets go.

Little did she know…

The foundation was shoddy. 

The pressure.

too much.

The pipes fell apart.

It was just the start…

Waves of water spray.

a wet blanket. 

How could she stay?  

-K.K. Powell