Originally posted on blossomsworld:
Some people eat to purgeThey devour platefuls ofLove, spoonfuls of hateBowls spilling with disgust. Some, drink vodka, ginWhiskey and bottled beerSwigging back painSipping on indifference. For some, it is…
Dear Jenn — She loved the sage. She loved the sea . She loved the ancient poets and ‘ I loved her. — Her wanting skin and her perfect face left me breathless.… Continue reading
The Poet’s love It was nearing the Midnight hour. Rose told everyone. I must rest. Me and Johnnie have a date at 3 am. At 8 am, you must be on the Hummingbird… Continue reading
The Poet’s love — Last grasp at a miracle At three a.m sharp. Rosa knocked gently on Paloma and Johnnie room. He rose up and he open the door. She came in and… Continue reading
The Poet’s love – The cancer A Chapter by Coyote Poetry A new chapter. The Poet’s love Leo watched Paloma and Johnnie leave. Johnnie face had aged. The last time he saw him.… Continue reading
The Poet’s love-life, death and the good wine The four good friends sat near the Trujillo bay. Lawrence told them. Trujillo was touched by God. The bay and the gentle people. A blessing… Continue reading
(The Poet’s love A Chapter by Coyote Poetry A new story) The Poet’ love The old Poet loved the country of Honduras. He had come here often in his life and he loved… Continue reading
Nude You leave me breathless, with nothing to hide, evening perfection. ————————————————————————— Wildflowers The wildflowers are jealous, with you near, become less beautiful. ——————————————————————————– Painted memories I wrote on skin,… Continue reading
River, I hear you call me to you, Gone are the days when I walked On your grassy banks, the wind in my hair, But still I hear your song, The air thick…
Are you a saint, my friend? I hear you saying “No” I too would say the same, I am no saint, but wait, Does perfection define a saint? No, it is the love…