Dear Monterey.
Dear Monterey. The kind Gods took me from war to you dear Monterey. I joined wars to try to die the proper death. Suicide, I couldn’t do. War didn’t want my death. The… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Family
Letters and promises.
Letters and promises. You saved me once my dear Julie. Your kind and sweet words upon sheets of paper made me wish and hope for a better tomorrow. You wrote me. —1- Dear… Continue reading
No regrets.
I have no regrets (A Poem by Coyote Poetry Bad days become less painful with time and distance.) No regret. I stopped in Ann Arbor in June, year 2000. I liked to swim… Continue reading
Our world.
Our world. One earth and people, we are. The sea touches our feet; the sea belongs to all the people of our world. The sun, sun-kissed our face. Same sun that touches every… Continue reading
Kind people, good song and laughter.
Kind people, good song and laughter. I found Joe Ann at a strip club. Only place near Fort Hood that played my Detroit sports. She would sit with me and hold my hands.… Continue reading
Waiting for a miracle.
Waiting for a miracle. I remember you, I remember us. You were my wild and untamed lady, and I was running to you, and I was running away from you in the same… Continue reading
The waltz of the angels.
The waltz of the Angels. I told the barkeeper. Keep the long Island ice teas coming. Sunday morning is a coming. I need to be blinded by the morning. He gave me a… Continue reading
What will this generation leave. Allowed mad dogs to destroy our world.
What is left? The dead will not rise.War steal the best from us.Who remember the people in the mass graves? Children cry, Soldier die Old friend you were killed in Iraq.So far from… Continue reading
I will never leave Michigan again.
I will Never left Michigan again. Years ago. I visit 40 countries. Drank wine in Basel and Paris, I danced in the streets of Florence, and I read poetry at Hyde Park in… Continue reading
The loveliest girl in Monterey. And a Bukowski poem.
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 the mini… Continue reading