A cradle hymn….
A cradle hymn. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just thoughts upon a paper A cradle hymn… Hush little baby. Don’t you cry.Daddy going buy you a humming bird.If the bird. It don’t sing.Daddy… Continue reading
Brother peace, sister love…
(A prayer for peace) Brother peace, sister love. I had sat by graves of 20,000 Soldiers killed in World War two outside of Paris. Men who died for freedom. The last war. I wonder would they understand the blunders… Continue reading
Unknown soldier…
Unknown soldiers.,.. (April poetry number nineteen.) He wrote to his journal in a Soldier graveyard in France outside of Paris in 1979. The dead don’t suffer no-more. He is surrounded by 40,000 crosses… Continue reading
A California free man, once…
A California free man once… Hanging with Jim tonight. (April poetry number eighteen.) Took me 33 years of life, dead brothers and broken heart to learn. Life is more than me. I drove… Continue reading
the colors of the world
From My window as quiet as a river I can watch The moon Shiver in the breeze its beams glimmer through the fronds ?of palm trees. Hibiscus wave like? children their mouths move?…
Poetry to Remember, Ep.4 – Immortality – by Clare Harner
Originally posted on 2nd Wasteland:
This poem is another of my favorites. Unlike many poems that I can think of this one is mired in claims that the author is either unknown or…
Lovers in Paris…
Lovers in Paris… She whispered to me, “O my love, O my love. Make me feel alive. I plucked a rose for us today and I told the red rose. Where had my… Continue reading
A wing and a prayer…
A wing and a prayer… He told the Lake St. Clair. We become, who suppose become. Hell-bound life can lead us to place of peace. He told the lady of the lake.… Continue reading
You can’t run from yourself…
You can’t run from yourself… I thought I had chameleon skin. My face could change with the weather, the continent. Once a blushing beauty told me. You are so handsome. Please show me… Continue reading
Barefoot dreams…
Barefoot dreams A Story by Coyote Poetry Good places and friends make distance places good dreams in old age. Barefoot dreams… I met the Sergeant Major nightly at the Bowling alley, dance club… Continue reading