“Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope.… Continue reading
(April is poetry month. New poetry number twelve.) The ballad of the angry woman. She was an unbounded lady sitting alone at Happy Hour in the Monterey Irish Pub. Long Island Ice Teas,… Continue reading
The hills and the Apache. A Poem by Coyote Poetry “An old poem when I was seeking who I was. Written in 1992.” The hills and the Apache. I had a bottle of good… Continue reading
Friendship? A good day to be alive my friend. A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Each day is a opportunity to do something good.” A good day to be alive my friend (Can you… Continue reading
Dear December. The war couldn’t kill me and I returned home in 1992 and I called you.A sweet voice answered the phone and you whispered.Dear Johnnie, please come home to me. I would… Continue reading
I hope your days be bright and love will be near you always. She was my Gypsy girl, my Monterey Bay dancer. She would gather her friends, and they would find the sea.… Continue reading
She was a Spring Day, and I was a Winter storm. She words a pendant of tourmaline on her neck and she never wore shoes. She adored the sea and she loved watching… Continue reading
Who are you? I love the book “The picture of Dorian Gray.” When reading or listening to the amazing book. You question yourself. Who am I? I question you my friend. Who are… Continue reading
(For April, poetry month. Poem number four.) Germany September sweet red wine. 1- September was merciful. Warm days, quiet days and time to sing, dance and drink. The Children were celebrating the September… Continue reading
(April, poetry month. Number three.) The masquerade. The masquerade. Was a blue moon night in New Orleans and no-one wanted to show their real face. Beer, wine and liquor was plentiful. Women were… Continue reading
