Forever young….
I ain’t done yet my friends, still many miles to go. Are you coming with me? ——————————————————————————-The wine been sweeter, the days been longer. We have survive the bad days and my dear… Continue reading
Monthly Archive: August, 2021
Poem: Weeping Willow – 25/08/21
Originally posted on Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose:
Weeping willow reminds meof stormy challenges,of riotous heart poundings,of emotional damages. Weeping willow, fretting leaves,gives me a sense of hope,her bent back fingerslaze,but within…
Notable
Originally posted on A Prophet Scorned:
What were my notable achievements? I most certainly have none For any account on my accord Is incorrect, it has always been the Lord I love without…
Fable love…
Fable love… I behold today the first warm day of Spring. I’m finding hope and energy in the new-born flowers and the new greenery of the forest. I have been swimming in the… Continue reading
Drunk man calling….
Drunk man calling A Poem by Coyote PoetryFunny how we remember faces and places when alcohol open the door to memories. Drunk man calling… It is 3 am in the morning. Your beautiful… Continue reading
I see you, you see me…
Just a few quotes….. Enjoy your life and tried not to damage or waste too much on the road of living…. I love you can be spoken with the eyes. Words are sweet.… Continue reading
I saw the sun in your eyes..
I saw the sun in your eyes…. You and I, we are dancing by the Monterey Bay, I am singing words of love for you. You asked me, Johnnie, why did you save… Continue reading
Blushing beauty stole my heart.
Blushing beauty stole my heart… The drunk poet, he loved the noisy Austin taverns. He liked the people who had fallen and they liked silence over worthless words. The sameness of faces made… Continue reading
Knuckles red, knuckles bleeding… And beautiful Mary
Knuckle red, knuckles bleeding… Knuckles red, knuckles bleeding. My father fought and fought, wars that could not be won. He told me in his drunkenness state. He told me. I killed and I… Continue reading
My father’s mind and a Mary Gathier song.
My father’s mind If you live by the gun, you will die by the gun. Do corpses talk? My father asked me a few time when the rum was aplenty. Who will be… Continue reading