Robert Frost, Leonard Cohen, Jim Morrison verbal poetry and some words.
“I loved the hard climb, the untouched path. I listen for the flowing river and I go to her. Rarely do I see people. I sit with the trees, the free animals and… Continue reading
“I loved the hard climb, the untouched path. I listen for the flowing river and I go to her. Rarely do I see people. I sit with the trees, the free animals and… Continue reading
The stranger song.. Pretty lady asked her old lover. When did we become strangers?Once we talked, danced and sang the whole night through.Now we sit together. Your eyes had died and your hopeful… Continue reading
Love letters — part two. My sweet love. We may be foolish, wishing into a wishing well for things we do not have anymore. I want you to know joy and happiness again… Continue reading
Passing through…. A poet and writer exchanging words and thoughts. The Coffee house poet told the writer. We can never win. Jack London once wrote. “The gods always win. Men believe they can… Continue reading
My great love … I told the young writer, we shall have many great loves. Many women will steal our heart, make us want everything and more. But there are those maidens, who can… Continue reading
Once you told me, I love you, I need you. Now the blessed words had turned so damn dirty. I told you, I love you still, but now our love is a open… Continue reading
Longing, belonging and secrets… Lover, lover, lover. Once we loved the long nights, once the wine tasted sweeter. Now our longing, belonging and our secrets, are bloody finger prints on a over-painted wall.… Continue reading
The song of May.. I am taking the train to Basel. Dear Alexandra is waiting in the city of wonder for me. She found me on the poetry site and she told me.… Continue reading
The stranger song.. Pretty lady asked her old lover. When did we become strangers?Once we talked, danced and sang the whole night through.Now we sit together. Your eyes had died and your hopeful… Continue reading
Strangers, trains and planes A Poem by Coyote Poetry Some people can’t be held down. Freedom is too valuable. Strangers, trains and planes She called my from Paris. She whispered I will be in… Continue reading