My Ojibwa Grandma hope and wishes
I believe she wanted the old memories dead and forgotten.She lived for us children and her son. I had to go out west. Find kind elders to show me the right path.They showed… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Family
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Old love..
Old love… She called me at midnight and she whispered. Johnnie, Johnnie. Do you remember me? I am so damn lonely tonight and please Johnnie. Can I come to you tonight?I told her.… Continue reading
Miss you, need you dear Ann Arbor..
Miss you, need you dear Ann Arbor… ( April is poetry month. New Poem number nineteen.) I am drinking alone beautiful Jenny. Somehow I forgot where Ann Arbor was and I am so… Continue reading
Old soldier..
Old soldier… A Story by Coyote Poetry Only Soldiers understand what another soldier had saw and felt. Strangers to war and violence cannot understand. When you are near death for too long. You appreciate… Continue reading
Angel dancing, too close to the ground.
Angels dancing, too close to ground.. Pretty wishes, deadly journeys led me to the Austin, Texas sun and you.Till I met you. I saw grey skies only and the drink was sweeter than… Continue reading
Did I thank you?
( April is poetry month. Poem number eleven.) Did I thank you? Aunt Ruth and Uncle Bill, did I thank you? I was just a kid with little and you held my hands… Continue reading
The October days of my life. Last dance for the Coyote.
( April is poetry month. Number ten poem.) The October days of my life. Last dance for the Coyote.. This morning, I saw a old face looking back at me in the mirror.… Continue reading
Coming home..
Coming home I sat in the plane from Philly. Heading to a place I ran away from.1000 days ago, I wanted war, new places and better ending. The splendor was war wasn’t so… Continue reading
My masterpiece..
My masterpiece.. Once blushing beauty stole my heart. She create a rage of need I never knew. She found me sitting alone by the Boeblingen lake and her river blue eyes stole everything… Continue reading
For my brother. Written in 1988.
( April is poetry month. Poem number five. I found a old journal from 1988. This poem was never published. Old words, old sadness. Become leftover pain, we learn to live with.) For… Continue reading