Payment due..
Payment due my friend I sat daily by the Lake St. Clair lake, I watched the boats go by and I wrote and read. I drank coffee and I fell into Jack London,… Continue reading
Tag Archive: books
Write, write and write some more..
Write, write and write some more A Poem by Coyote Poetry Words are powerful. They create tears, laughter, happiness and sadness. Without the great word-men and word-women. What would we know and understand?” … Continue reading
Locked and loaded..
Locked and loaded A Poem by Coyote Poetry War. What is it good for? Nothing.” Locked and loaded.. The old Soldiers knows. The madness of youth was the temptation of sweet wine and… Continue reading
Hemingway table…
Hemingway table.. I found Hemingway table in Paris, in the Spring of 1978. I found Hemingway table in Monterey, California in 1992. I searched Central and South America for three years, seeking the… Continue reading
Forever young..
Forever young.. Once I was fearless and brave. Love was life and life was love. I had a strong back and powerful legs. I was going to save my world.Once I wanted long… Continue reading
She told me by Lake St. Clair. Love never did love me..
She told me by Lake St. Clair. Love never did love me. 1- A Summer day…The birds were singing near me.Lake St. Clair was alive and dancing for the children.The sun-kissed my face… Continue reading
Now and forever..
Now and forever… Old soldier, a dying man drank alone. He returned home after 10 years of war, travel and sin. He knew when he left the Pacific ocean. No-one was waiting for… Continue reading
Happy Halloween. Saving Amber. Part one and two.
Saving Amber… Part one. Coyote and his baby coyotes were looking for a monster. His friend Amber been having dreams she was being chased by a demon. She thought he was Pennywise. I… Continue reading
Please kiss me and tell me I am the only one..
Please kiss me and tell me I am the only one… She had waited a thousand days for him. War and confusion had made their love wait. They shared a 100 letters. Each… Continue reading
Marcella..
Marcella.. I found a twenty-five year old storage bag. Filled with old photos and old letters. I went through them, one by one. Each photo showed me a stranger, who lived and now… Continue reading