Ashtrays, whiskey and the pen..
Ashtrays, whiskey and the pen… I loved downtown Austin, Texas. No-one is a stranger. Just people seeking good booze, music and opportunity. I like the comfort of a cigarette, Jack Daniels and time… Continue reading
Ashtrays, whiskey and the pen… I loved downtown Austin, Texas. No-one is a stranger. Just people seeking good booze, music and opportunity. I like the comfort of a cigarette, Jack Daniels and time… Continue reading
The dance A Poem by Coyote Poetry Many kinds of opportunities for the dance. A wise person is fearless in life. If you take no chances. You won’t know what you could of done… Continue reading
Bad behavior.. Loveliest lady in Port Austin. She waited for no-one on the long pier into Lake Huron. I adored her auburn hair and her wild hazel eyes. She would find me sitting… Continue reading
Beautiful stranger.. Sitting alone in the corner in a piano bar bar in Austin, Texas.Reflecting on things lost on the road. Strangers are around me.Whispering secret to their lovers.Under the dim lights.Where words are twisted to revive passion… Continue reading
I remember you.. The summer days were long andthe splendor of the blue skies and the bright sun.Beckon us to the sea. The heat of hot days.Thaw our cold hearts.The beauty of Monterey… Continue reading
My dearest muse.. You are love and I’m no-one. You came to me with your haunting words awakening the want of love, the dance and the song. Your gentle voice awoke my dying… Continue reading
My masterpiece.. Once blushing beauty stole my heart. She create a rage of need I never knew. She found me sitting alone by the Boeblingen lake and her river blue eyes stole everything… Continue reading
Bridgette wrote.. Painted words are what the writer understand. Wisp and grasps of sweet dreams are the last myth of emotions for love and words. Dead writer in the Winter of his life.… Continue reading
( April is poetry month. Poem number five. I found a old journal from 1988. This poem was never published. Old words, old sadness. Become leftover pain, we learn to live with.) For… Continue reading
The lucky or the crazy. A Poem by Coyote Poetry “I lived on the coastline of California for three years. No better place to be. “ The lucky or the crazy? We danced… Continue reading