Sad brown eyes..
Sad brown eyes.. A brown eye angel is crying in our bedroom for me. In a turmoil of a kind love. A paradise of burning emotion. You can create a strange prison. I… Continue reading
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A solace and a blessing..
A solace and a blessing. . . The good cognac and German wines kept me in my woeful and tranquil state. I was lost, fainthearted and raging mad at life. Death and dreams were… Continue reading
A Robert Frost verbal poem and three poems.
“I loved the hard climb, the untouched path. I listen for the flowing river and I go to her. Rarely do I see people. I sit with the trees, the free animals and… Continue reading
Longing, belonging and secrets..
Longing, belonging and secrets… Lover, lover, lover. Once we loved the long nights, once the wine tasted sweeter. Now our longing, belonging and our secrets, are bloody finger prints on a over-painted wall.… Continue reading
A T.S. Eliot quote and some quotes of mine.
“This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper..” T.S. Eliot “My grandfather told me often, one day, the teacher will become the student. The student will become the teacher.” “Once my dear grandmother… Continue reading
A song of forever..
A song of forever… A song of forever, she didn’t want to sing. She had shun love and she wanted endless night, loud music and her colorful cotton dresses. She was my hippy… Continue reading
A February morning and a beautiful Alexia Evellyn song.
A February morning… The days of February are here. Kind earth is resting and we must become Winter people. The fire are burning and grandfathers must become the story tellers. He must entice… Continue reading
Come away with me..
Come away with me A Poem by Coyote PoetryLove need quiet, love need reminders. Come away with me…. We loved the cigarettes, the Johnnie Walker and the good songs. You were North Dakota born,… Continue reading
Your love, like heroin.
Your love, like Heroin.. Lace and silk, whiskey and sin, pain and misery we loved. I loved to watch you paint your beautiful face and I told you. You are a natural beauty.… Continue reading
The poet wisp..
The poet wisp… The pretty Texas gal asked me. You are here every Friday and Saturday morning by the Austin River sitting alone. Reading your books and writing into your journal. You read… Continue reading