Painting pretty pictures.
Painting pretty pictures. Tonight, I am drinking the Irish coffee, and I am remembering better days. I am painting pretty pictures with my words, and I am trying to remember your face. I… Continue reading
Painting pretty pictures. Tonight, I am drinking the Irish coffee, and I am remembering better days. I am painting pretty pictures with my words, and I am trying to remember your face. I… Continue reading
The sea dancer. She was a dancer and I was the Monterey Irish Pub drunk. She could paint the sea, she could paint the forest and she could paint beautiful faces and beautiful… Continue reading
Lady of the lake. We loved the weeping willows trees by the lake; we loved the month of July and August. Once I wanted death and my lady of the lake, whispered a… Continue reading
Once upon a time. I returned to Akron in 1980. I was looking for a sweet memory In 1973 at my fifteen-birthday party. The prettiest friend of my sister gave me a birthday… Continue reading
At midnight I called her at Midnight hour and I told her.Dear Jenny, I remember you and I remember us.I love you still and forget me not.Jenny is crying and she whispered.Johnnie, it… Continue reading
Folly. Dead men don’t weep no more, stagnant life lead to deluded ending, Pretty things can hide the hidden truth, nothing gain-nothing lost. We can ascend and we can fall, the echoes of… Continue reading
We shall live; we shall know tears and laughter. Almost March, the cold Winter is almost done.I am far-away from where I belong.Once, Spring was the days of rebirth and new hope. I… Continue reading
Short poems. A Poem by Coyote Poetry I found some short poetry from 1989. I hope you like. 1- Dreams. I could of touched every dream. My sweet dreams went fleeting away,when you… Continue reading
The trees A Poem by Coyote Poetry I had a tree poem in my head for weeks. I hope it is worthwhile to read. Trees BY JOYCE KILMER I think that I shall never see… Continue reading
The walls and the damn mirrors A Poem by Coyote Poetry Can’t hide what we became when we see our reflection in the mirrors The walls and the damn mirrors. My father told… Continue reading