I try to memorize her face..
I tried to memorize her face.. She was my midnight dancer and she loved the sea.She didn’t like loud people and she sought the quiet of the Monterey Bay.She adored band night in… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Coyote Poetry
Love on the rocks..
Loves on the rocks.. Tonight me and Neil Diamond are hanging out together. I am writing my whiskey poetry tonight. Lately I needed the whiskey. Old wars, 500 Army shots and my sleeping… Continue reading
A poet’s love is forever.. And a beautiful Lorde song.
“As long as the poet’s words live, the beloved will be, in a way, still alive too.”Shakespeare “If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.”― Mike Everett“If a writer loves… Continue reading
Resemble love..
Resembled love A Poem by Coyote Poetry True love is rare and hard to find. Resembled love Pretty as a perfect picture and she gave me sly smile and a wink.I was weary… Continue reading
The human touch..
The human touch. A Poem by Coyote Poetry The easiest gift to give is concern, time and to listen. In a world of fast pace and little time. We must slow down and show… Continue reading
Play me the waltz of the angel.. And Joey/Rory song.
Play me the waltz of the angels… I wrote some names down to paper, each name were kind mentors to me. In quiet prayers, I pray to sit with them again, talk till… Continue reading
The loveliest girl in Monterey and beautiful Elle King songs.
The Loveliest girl in Monterey.. The loveliest gal in Monterey… she hated love and disliked men who begged for attention. I was the midnight poet and I would go to her shop in… Continue reading
Misty eyes..
Misty eyes.. You bathe me with your hazel eyes, your morning misty eyes. We have hot coffee, early morning, the sun rising from the east. I tell you, let’s slow down this day,… Continue reading
Payment due..
Payment due.. The year 1991, late Winter. I finished my training at Fort Lee, Virginia. I received my orders, orders issued, sending me direct to Iraq. I took the long way home to… Continue reading
The last chance motel..
The last chance motel… Summer Texas night, cold drink and no-place to go. Michigan dreamer, drinking his Long Island teas and writing into a journal. “Song of my father, songs of the long highways,… Continue reading