My true love…
My true love A Poem by Coyote Poetry Written in 1978-rewritten in 2014 My true love… The feeling of joy is you. I have been submerge in your sweet kiss and tender embrace.… Continue reading
My true love A Poem by Coyote Poetry Written in 1978-rewritten in 2014 My true love… The feeling of joy is you. I have been submerge in your sweet kiss and tender embrace.… Continue reading
Purgatory Inn and no place to go. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Old memories become less painful with time. Purgatory Inn and no place to go…. I have the long Island ice tea fresh… Continue reading
Quotes from the heart. A Poem by Coyote Poetry It is a good day. I have five grandchildren now. Today I have many reasons to be thankful and alive to enjoy the birth of… Continue reading
Big Surf and Alisa Fineman A Poem by Coyote Poetry A beautiful song bird of the California coastline. Big Surf and Alisa Fineman.. I put two brothers into graves, one in 1988 and… Continue reading
Paris, London, Basel or Barcelona…. We were wanderlust, whiskey kisses and sleeping till noon. We loved clotheless mornings and afternoon meals. We loved loud music and we loved the sea. I would tell… Continue reading
A lullaby for dear Luna… Once I chased the moon, once I sang to her, great songs of love. “Dear Luna, you are a miracle to behold, please come and dance with me… Continue reading
The sinner’s prayer My father believed, if he went to church on New Year eve. All sins would be forgiven. Father, old soldier, drinker and hell raiser. I pray, a place for men,… Continue reading
Riders on the storm… We are… Bad dream again, anger blasting my thoughts, Mad men killing and I don’t understand. 15 year girl, Leila Hernandez, covered and protected her brother body and she… Continue reading
Wild horses… Once we made pretty wishes to the California rising sun. You were the artist and I was the word man. We loved the sea, the quiet desert and the midnight silence… Continue reading
We had the month of May, once… Pretty gal from Italy told him by the Monterey Bay, the pipe dream poet, he isn’t poetry, he isn’t love, he is cursed, cursed to live… Continue reading