You can’t return from where you left…
A Poem by Coyote Poetry Old poem from 1993 with a re-write.” You can’t return from where you left.. (A Poet, is one, who believes and one who cannot bring himself to believe.–Tadeusz… Continue reading
A Poem by Coyote Poetry Old poem from 1993 with a re-write.” You can’t return from where you left.. (A Poet, is one, who believes and one who cannot bring himself to believe.–Tadeusz… Continue reading
The Fall sweet honey A Poem by Coyote Poetry The Fall sweet honey Beautiful as the rising Summer sun,sweet and kind like the fresh Fall sweet honey.She told me, if you want me.Must leave… Continue reading
Open the door my dear lover… I told the bartender at the Downtown Austin tavern, I was born sick. My mind twisted and wrong. I was born poor and now I have enough.… Continue reading
Haunt me… I found her again at the hard metal club in Austin and she was dressed in her black skirt and her favorite black blouse. I stay at a distance and I… Continue reading
The daylight fading…. Once the most kindest woman in Texas weaved me a safe place to be. Dearest Jayne use to hold me tightly and she sang songs of love to me late… Continue reading
The Scottish kisses… It was 1978 and the long days of Summer were here. Early June, warm days, weekend activities and weekend adventures to discover new places. I found safety in the German… Continue reading
On paper, with good pen and good song. I remember silky voice, pale skin and the most beautiful face I ever seen. We prayed and we starved for love in the Spring of… Continue reading
I adored you.. I loved you near and afar. I loved your soft voice and beautiful face. I stood near you, and we held hands, and we shared drinks. We traveled California highway… Continue reading
Delia… O sweet you are, O brave you be and O darling. I love you as-is. My rose-cheeked gal, you never promised me anything and you loved to live. We loved to hear… Continue reading
Liar’s moon lullaby… I told the liar’s moon, eleven anthrax shots given to me by the Army. I have forgotten more than I remember. I search my deaden mind for faces, for the… Continue reading