Show me the way to love.
Show me the way to love. (Photo of my Daniela in 1978 and my first published poem somewhere. Written in 1979.) A Poem by Coyote PoetryA poem written in 1979. Being young and hopeful… Continue reading
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Pretty Peggy. The last dance.
Pretty Peggy. Once I chased you and all I wanted was a kiss, a dance. I told you often, you were the most beautiful girl in my world. We tried to find love… Continue reading
The daylight fading.
The daylight fading. Once the kindest woman in Texas weaved me a safe place to be. Dearest Jayne used to hold me tightly and she sang songs of love to me late into… Continue reading
Recollection. For dear Kellie.
Recollections… 1- Kellie.I was intoxicated by you. My beautiful dark eyes muse, you made me beg for seconds of time, to be near you. You were a wild spirit tempting life, leaving… Continue reading
The brown eye’s girl.
The brown eye’s girl A Poem by Coyote Poetry Some woman make you wish you were young and free again. They bring to life the desire for you to want to be wild and… Continue reading
A stranger, I became.
A stranger, I became. He was corrupted by the Army, almost 15 years, twisted his minds and his needs. Once he needed home, once he needed his family. And now he need new… Continue reading
Already broken. A Tela, an Honduras story.
Already broken. Oldest and most tire man in Michigan escaped to find something lost. He remembers an Auburn hair with a silky voice, the whiskey nights and the Soldier’s liar prayer. He gave… Continue reading
Too old to die young. And the amazing Trishas song.
Too old to die young. 1- Almost 68 years old, lived in many places and had many lives. Old man looking back at me in the mirror. I told the night.. I am… Continue reading
Autumn leaves. And a beautiful Katy Funke song.
Autumn leaves. I remember the September Indian Summer, I remember the warm sun touching my face and I remember you. We entwined our hands and we walked by Lake St. Clair. I loved… Continue reading
I don’t remember how you looked.
“Dreams can become nightmares. Nightmares can become sweet dreams one day.” I don’t remember how you looked. I don’t remember how you looked. Your eyes were blue, maybe hazel green? Your hair golden blond or maybe… Continue reading