No regrets.
I have no regrets (A Poem by Coyote Poetry Bad days become less painful with time and distance.) No regret. I stopped in Ann Arbor in June, year 2000. I liked to swim… Continue reading
Tag Archive: life
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Slow dance and a wonderful Ana Popovic song.
Slow dance. Good Jazz, the good drink and drowning in the old memories. My old love dancing alone to the saddest Jazz and I told my whiskey. Pretty lady, I remember us. I… Continue reading
Kind people, good song and laughter.
Kind people, good song and laughter. I found Joe Ann at a strip club. Only place near Fort Hood that played my Detroit sports. She would sit with me and hold my hands.… Continue reading
I hate you; I love you. And amazing dance video by Sara and Reda.
I hate you; I love you. I try to escape you; I try to flee your memory. I repeat secret words in hidden places in my mind. I hate you; I love you.… Continue reading
Bad love. And music by lovely Lindsey Stirling.
Bad love. I felt the darkness of the night overtaking the lights of the day. Stealing away the gentleness that is left in me. The once sweet memories had turn to a cancer.… Continue reading
Waiting for a miracle.
Waiting for a miracle. I remember you, I remember us. You were my wild and untamed lady, and I was running to you, and I was running away from you in the same… Continue reading
The daylight fading.
The daylight fading. Once the kindest woman in Texas weaved me a safe place to be. Dearest Jayne used to hold me tightly and she sang songs of love to me late into… Continue reading
The waltz of the angels.
The waltz of the Angels. I told the barkeeper. Keep the long Island ice teas coming. Sunday morning is a coming. I need to be blinded by the morning. He gave me a… Continue reading
St. Patrick Day is coming. All my friends got old. All my friends had settled down.
All my friends had settled down. A Friday night and no-one wanted to go drinking with me. A bloody Friday night and my friends. Watching Hulu and Netflix with their fat wives. I… Continue reading
The loveliest girl in Monterey. And a Bukowski poem.
The loveliest girl in Monterey. The loveliest gal in Monterey,she hated love and disliked men who begged for attention.I was the midnight poet, and I would go to her shop in the mini… Continue reading