“Break me and make me feel alive”
Break me and make me feel alive A Poem by Coyote Poetry Need to find new limits and places. The new dances make the old memories seem less painful. Break me and… Continue reading
“Blindfolded and weightless”
Blindfolded and weightless I watched your tone and beautiful legs move on the dance floor. Legs that make a man beg for mercy before he had sins. Your short skirt showed silky and… Continue reading
“Love is a careless child”
Love is a careless child A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words. Enjoy. Love is a careless child Her skin whiter than Winter snow and her trembling lips of soft pink tempted the… Continue reading
Poetry Sunday: Vesna Parun’s ‘You Whose Hands Are More Innocent Than Mine’
Originally posted on Kristen Twardowski:
? https://youtu.be/Vg01Ql33yyQ Love stories do not always have a happy ending. With its yearning, pain, and affection, Vesna Parun’s poem ‘You Whose Hands Are More Innocent Than Mine’…
“Turn, turn , turn”
Turn, turn, turn The old poet sang a lullaby. A sensual woman whispered to him once. “Come live with me and be my lover. I will be your salvation and you will be… Continue reading
“Autumn Bells”
Originally posted on Signs Sighs Sights:
“Autumn Bells”, 2016, Yuriy Ku Drop “…the autumn bells and butterflies below the belly, a single conversation on a bench…” 13signs
She was a Woman
Originally posted on Writcrit:
The adversities of the space were in their place and the earth was a souvenir of destructed, corrugated, barren grounds, The stars were red and darkness prevailed over sun…
She’s Only A Memory
Please read the amazing poetry by a talented writer.
Ravishing beauty dancing alone”
Ravishing beauty dancing alone. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Hard to break down walls of regret and disappointment. Need time and distance to forget. Ravishing beauty dancing alone We will masquerade as many… Continue reading
Passing through
Passing through A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words Passing through A poet and writer exchanging words and thoughts. The Coffee house poet told the writer. We can never win. Jack London once… Continue reading