Texas poetry.
Little poems A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words.” Number one- With Johnnie Walker whiskey confident and on a wing and prayer. I asked the pretty Texas gal for a dance. The pretty maiden… Continue reading
Little poems A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words.” Number one- With Johnnie Walker whiskey confident and on a wing and prayer. I asked the pretty Texas gal for a dance. The pretty maiden… Continue reading
Waterfall A Poem by Coyote PoetryThe waterfall, free-flowing water. Like we should be.)“ Hearts awryWary ghostly graspWeary lonely gaspYet I can’t holdEnclasp”Robert. Waterfall….. “Hearts awryWary ghostly graspWeary lonely gaspYet I can’t holdEnclasp” The night… Continue reading
I saw the sun in your eyes… You and I, we are dancing by the Monterey Bay, I am singing words of love for you. You asked me, Johnnie, why did you save… Continue reading
One, two, three, four. Do we begin again? 1- Did I find you? Or did you entrapped me?Am I the captive or the guard?One, two, three, four. Did we dance?Prey or predator, we… Continue reading
I tried to remember. I tried to remember the curves of your body. Us blindfolded by wild need and want on the cold days of Winter. I want to remember my hands touching… Continue reading
Bad to the bone. (Written in 1989) I’m going crazy. I don’t know which way is out or in.I have fell into too deep. I can’t see the light.Darkness took my heart and… Continue reading
Sugar and spice.. You lifted your eyes for me. Your eyes dancing with joy and filled with wilderness.I whispered to you. Dear love. Do you want to hear a lullaby?You gave me a… Continue reading
Purgatory Inn and no place to go… I have the long Island ice tea fresh and cold.Bartender keep them coming.They love the big tippers.Purgatory Inn is open early and closes late.Safe place for… Continue reading
A wing and a prayer.. He told the Lake St. Clair. We become, who suppose become. Hell-bound life can lead us to place of peace. He told the lady of the lake. Kind… Continue reading
The lovely silence.. The real poets and writers know. The silence is golden. Words become meaningless in the midnight hours. True lovers don’t need to speak. They allow their mouth, hands and body… Continue reading