Lost generation. Part three.
Lost generation. Part three. New York City. A Chapter by Coyote Poetry Dream writing again. “YELLOW RIBBON Around her hair she wore a yellow ribbonShe wore it in the spring time, in the early… Continue reading
Tag Archive: fantasy
The lost generation. Chapter one.
The lost generation. Chapter one. A Chapter by Coyote Poetry A hollow man cannot heal. He learn to accept more and less. The Lost Generation.. Part one. I was dream-writing again tonight. I believe… Continue reading
If I had magic.
If I had magic Johnnie walked the California Fault line alone. Looking for an ancient and holy place.The desert mountain hard and her natural beauty.Perfect place to hide wishing wells and to burn… Continue reading
The threshold.
The threshold A Poem by Coyote Poetry We can be given motivation by the words of great poets. Thank you Rene Salinas for loaning me a verse. “The threshold, wide and the appearance inviting.The… Continue reading
She was a dancer.
She was a dancer. She was a dancer and I was the Monterey Irish Pub drunk. She could paint the sea, she could paint the forest and she could paint beautiful faces and… Continue reading
She was a sea dancer.
She was a sea dancer. She was a dancer and I was the Monterey Irish Pub drunk. She could paint the sea, she could paint the forest and she could paint beautiful faces… Continue reading
Memorial Day poetry. At peace, at last.
At peace, at last… (Sometime war killed the soldier slowly.) The Soldiers gave him a 21-gun salute.Only young and old Soldiers came to say goodbye.Old Sergeant Major finally drank himself to death.35years a… Continue reading
Parable of Celia.
Parable of Celia. She sat alone by the peaceful lake. Her pale legs and bare feet being sun-kissed by the late Spring sun. She was wearing a sun dress of white showing soft… Continue reading
Please take my heart, please take my hands.
Please take my hand, please take my heart. Old man told the young soldier in the Fort Louis NCO club. You must die to learn to live. You must lose everything to appreciate… Continue reading
If I was the king of the forest.
IF I was the king of the forest. A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Old memories and old dreams.” If I was the King of the Forest. American Soldiers drinking with boisterous and loud German women and… Continue reading