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Barrooms Poems - Poems about Barrooms


Damned Generation
...Damnation to our Generation.. Ageing ghosting in anguish.. Youth yield to boorishness... Devilish deed with drugs on a daily.. Daily routine on intoxication... Inebriate on a highway.. Damned ......

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Categories: barrooms, adventure, pain, youth,
Form: Prose Poetry
Premium Member Shade
...           Your past, your romantic past, is a shadow. Like all towns, Port Angeles was a combination of rain and clouds, sun and mist, with a c......

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Categories: barrooms, anger, deep, history, humor,
Form: Verse



Stoking the Dream Machine
...Stoking The Dream Machine by Gabriel Magno the rocking horse stood idle, the tricycle had rusted, the grown up children had their share, and now are well adjusted. Virginia mountains’ hollo......

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Categories: barrooms, dream,
Form: Rhyme
Jukebox Cry For Me By Ron Porter
...in the dim and dismal barrooms of my dark and distant past i sat drinking cheap misery as i listened to songs of lying lovers,? ?cheaters, broken hearts and pedestrian pain all those songs,? ?i ......

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Categories: barrooms, sad
Form: Rhyme
Premium Member In All the Crummy Little Barrooms of the Soul
...I wait in all the crummy little barrooms of the soul. I look about and sniff the air, drink, and wait. In the demi-world of honky-tonks, which vie against night's inner gloom, beneath mantles ......

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Categories: barrooms, angst, depression, introspection, life,
Form: Narrative



The Portrait
... Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth... Ecclesiastes 12:1 KJV Once, there was an artist, who would paint the Savior’s face, Portraying His great splendor and benevolent gra......

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Categories: barrooms, religionme,
Form: Narrative
On Dirtied Pavement.
...On the edge of metropolitan midnight he lays in a breathless silence rasping the evanescing yesterdays to his windows both open and locked, while the unknowing below in stale smoke barrooms, wai......

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Categories: barrooms, death, loss, mystery, philosophyold,
Form: Free verse
The Reverberating Sins of My Father
...Can’t remember what you look like or even the way you smell I’ve gazed upon many who fit the description but are any of them you, who’s to tell? I’ve told myself I’m over it time and again ......

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Categories: barrooms, childhood, father, life, loss,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Reflection on the Important Things