My home is Northern Michigan. I sat by the Cherry trees of Michigan in Northern Michigan, and I remembered a good friend. We were not young; we were serving in the Army. 25… Continue reading
Knuckle red, knuckles bleeding. His knuckles red, his knuckles bleeding. My father fought and fought, wars that could not be won. He told me in his drunkenness state. What have I done? He… Continue reading
My father’s song.Greatest man I ever known. He told me often. “Life isn’t easy and we must be stronger than what life give us. Better to be piss and vinegar than lay down… Continue reading
Like Father… A Poem by Coyote Poetry Do we become our parent? Do we follow their footsteps. Like father. My father, like most men. He learned to hide is sadness and disappointment. He… Continue reading
My father’s mind, my father’s wars. If you live by the gun, you will die by the gun. Do corpses talk? My father asked me a few times when the rum was aplenty.Who… Continue reading
Isn’t no fucking good war. A Poem by Coyote PoetryCan’t allow the hate and fear to overcome us. World been the same for a long time. Must dance and love. Never know when it… Continue reading
Been awhile my friend. I visit my good friend, the ground was cold and I brought his favorite beer. I take one Budweiser and I leave the five remainders on his grave. I… Continue reading
It is cut and dried. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Old words still mean the same. It is cut and dried. Old man sitting at the Old Fox tavern.Drinking his rum and coke… Continue reading
Knuckle red, knuckles bleeding. Knuckles red, knuckles bleeding. My father fought and fought, wars that could not be won. He told me in his drunkenness state. He told me. I killed and I… Continue reading
(April is poetry month. New poetry number eighteen.) 1- My stepfather was a paratrooper in WW2. He was six foot in height and 200 pounds. Was a police officer for 20 plus year,… Continue reading