Spoiled
Good words to be read.
Good words to be read.
My oldest and best friend. You became my father in 1980, you were kind to me and I remember you. I lost you, death called the old soldier home. You were… Continue reading
Angels, muses and sirens. A Story by Coyote Poetry There are good and bad death. I recommend you pick the proper one. (California 1991) Angels, muses and sirens. Angels, muses and sirens. A… Continue reading
Maybe Bukowski The silence poet read his words on the first Tuesday night of each month. Otherwise his voice is quiet, he prefer the Salinger way over Hemingway loudness. He… Continue reading
Originally posted on Bottled Metaphors:
I was vehemently approaching the art,Mind was transcendent and unapproachableProfusion of flower scent around meFloated like the wreath from a ship,I looked at the prosaic roots cling into…
She told me. Love demand payment. Perfect beauty. Wearing Summer dress of white. Her soft shoulders showed tempting kiss and caress. She knew she had my attention. I watched her sun-kissed… Continue reading
Originally posted on Christina Strigas:
a rush of adrenaline straight to the soul whether you like to admit it or not, drinking is the solution to reality. guilty of feeling too much for…
The kindness of September Our Michigan home is ready for the nocturnal rest and I watched you look at the change of color with my adoring eyes. I encircled… Continue reading
No chance My beautiful dear lady is waiting for me, a touch of the sun upon her face. I stand at a distance and I appreciate her gentle… Continue reading
My lover, my lover Beautiful black night allowed us to release fear, allowed us to show true face. We released our clothing, danced to the songs of Bob Seger. We are skin to… Continue reading