I called your name.
I called your name. Beautiful lady weeps for me. I departed for unknown destination. I didn’t know. First tears will take us to weight-full memories and places amidst lonely, descended wants and needs.… Continue reading
Tag Archive: California
Lestat’s coffee shop conversation.
Lestat’s coffee shop conversation. Was a quiet San Diego night. I read my poetry at a poetry reading next to the Lestat’s coffee shop. I read an old poem. ” Bitter branches Old men are like… Continue reading
Scars, we do have. And a lovely Alessia Cara song.
Scars, we do have. The saddest gal in Monterey asked me. You make me laugh when I want to cry, you make me smile when I want to disappear. You hold my hand,… Continue reading
Love, did whisper to me on a Summer day.
Love, did whisper to me on a Summer day. She was a butterfly dancing in the wind, her long colorful dress moving with the breeze and love, did whisper to me on a… Continue reading
2500 miles away from you.
2500 miles away from you A Poem by Coyote Poetry We hope distance and separation can make sadness forgotten. It doesn’t. 2500 miles from you… On a Winter day in 1989. We said… Continue reading
No-one comes back the same.
No-one comes back the same. 1- I left you in late December and I did not look back. You were so beautiful, so kind. We made no promises and I saw in your… Continue reading
Morning glory.
Morning glory. The smell of fresh coffee and pancakes cooking and I was laying in my warm bed. The morning sun was peeking in my window. Telling me raise and shine, soldier. A… Continue reading
The madness, we knew.
The madness, we knew. You loved the whiskey, you love the sin and you loved the long ride. You wanted the sea , you wanted the ancient writers and you loved the quiet nights.… Continue reading
You can’t always get what you want.
You can’t always get what you want. Johnnie and Lexi were singing the Rolling Stone song. You can’t always get what you want, but sometimes we get what we need. Me and Lexi… Continue reading
The willow tree.
The willow trees. Old poet told the girl. We must try to go back to where we were, if we can.The bright eyed girl asked with wonder, dear poet, I come to you… Continue reading