Category Archive: poetry

Miss you, need you..

 Miss you, need you… I am drinking alone beautiful Coco. Somehow I forgot where Texas was and I am so damn lonely. I have called you at midnight, every night for a week.… Continue reading

Rate this:

You forgave me…

You forgave me… I remember us. We were something. I chased you till you couldn’t run no-more. I promised you the moon, I promised you a ancient love. Drinking aged wine and dancing… Continue reading

Rate this:

Hemingway’s whiskey…

Hemingway’s whiskey….  Hemingway saw war, he loved, he drank and he danced with the pretty gals throughout the four corners of my world. I tried to follow his path, to seek knowledge, swim… Continue reading

Rate this:

The Coyote song, lest we forget…

 The Coyote song, lest we forget…. Lately the days have become slower and I want less. Once the wild Coyote ran and ran till he found some pleasure, some laughter and a safe… Continue reading

Rate this:

I called your name…

I called your name A Poem by Coyote PoetryMaybe the sea will listen to our wishes                            I called your name… I… Continue reading

Rate this:

The most beautiful woman in town/Bukowski verbal poetry.

The most beautiful woman…. Everyday the most beautiful woman I knew, she sat with me at the Army mess hall and she looked at my face hard and she asked. Reading poetry today… Continue reading

Rate this:

She’s crazy…

 She’s crazy… I was like my father I believed. I liked the whiskey and the gin. And I loved the women too. I believe I was a rolling stone who wanted the long… Continue reading

Rate this:

I need a wild gal…

I need a wild gal… We have the long highway going west and your hair is dancing freely with the wind. I watched you view the sun with your beautiful emerald eyes with… Continue reading

Rate this:

Come away with me…

Come away with me…. We loved the cigarettes, the Johnnie Walker and the good songs. You were North Dakota born, now California blessed. I would massage your wanting skin every night and I… Continue reading

Rate this:

Lovers, murderers and the damn memories…

Dear December… The war couldn’t kill me and I returned home in 1992 and I called you. A sweet voice answered the phone and you whispered. Dear Johnnie. Please come home to me.… Continue reading

Rate this: