For Poetry day- The coastline…
The Coastline A Poem by Coyote PoetryIn 1991, I drove from Michigan to California. I wrote this poem the day I saw the Ocean. The Coastline…. I fell in love with her on a… Continue reading
The Coastline A Poem by Coyote PoetryIn 1991, I drove from Michigan to California. I wrote this poem the day I saw the Ocean. The Coastline…. I fell in love with her on a… Continue reading
The sweetest things A Poem by Coyote PoetryLife is simple. Respect people. Religion should be private. Stay positive. The sweetest thing… I have seen so many mysteries and seen so much beauty. I swam in… Continue reading
She danced by the light of the candles….. Sitting by the bay.Watching the sun fall into the sea. I’m a street poet of the night and I wear Army greens in the day. I’m waiting… Continue reading
I serenaded to the paragon of beauty. A Poem by Coyote PoetryWe were shadows dancing upon the beach. Safe from the peril of real life I serenaded to the paragon of beauty…. On… Continue reading
Somewhere in time… The paradox of living, we get what we deserve. Once, the prettiest lady I have ever known, waited for a wayward man. I remember the fragrance of her skin, the… Continue reading
A wish upon a star A Poem by Coyote PoetryOld dreams never fade away. A wish upon a star…. Every night before I close my eyes. I whisper your name. I make a wish to kiss your… Continue reading
Wounded Angel A Poem by Coyote Poetry Wounded Angel… My sad friend.Please smile for me.Stay with me by the sea all night. Your world has fell apart.You don’t know right from wrong.Desperate acts… 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
The lady in the black dress A Poem by Coyote PoetryWe never forget those hurricanes we had learn to adore The lady in the black dress… Dancing alone in a downtown Austin tavern with… Continue reading
The last chance motel… Summer Texas night, cold drink and no-place to go. Michigan dreamer, drinking his Long Island teas and writing into a journal. “Song of my father, songs of the long highways,… Continue reading