The word man..
Many years ago. In 1991 to 1993. I would read my poetry on the coastline of California. I had some fans too. Old woman and young girls. They called me the word man. I carry a… Continue reading
Tag Archive: music
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Hanging with George Thorogood and One whiskey, one beer and a Cuban cigar.
One whiskey, one beer and a Cuban cigar.. ( April is poetry month. This is poem number twenty-six.) Was a pretty Texas gal smiling at me. She purred like a kitten and I… Continue reading
Would you lay with me? And a beautiful Whoa Dakota song.
Would you lay with me? ( April is poetry month. This is new poetry number twenty-four.) 1- I kissed your scars on your arms and I hold you close and I told you.… Continue reading
The stranger song..
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
Ride..
Ride.. (Johnnie need a long vacation.) True freedom my friend is dancing with the wind. Singing song till the morning light.Knowing open highways and not being controlled by money and possessions. I want… Continue reading
Maybe, one more cup of Irish coffee?
Maybe, one more cup of Irish coffee? ( April is poetry month. This is new poem number twenty-two. ) I remember the fragrance of her. She smelled like the sea and Irish whiskey.… Continue reading
Wicked games, we do play..
Wicked games, we do play… 1- We stole kisses, we said so many words of lies. We loved the wicked game. We adored our naked nights, where we shared sin and gin. We… Continue reading
Lady Mischief..
Lady mischief… The Coyote told the falling Sun, the rising moon. I need less hard days, I need more easy day, cooler nights. I want deep and soulful jazz, the long river near… Continue reading
A poet’s love and a beautiful Lorde song.
“As long as the poet’s words live, the beloved will be, in a way, still alive too.” Shakespeare “If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.”― Mike Everett “If a… Continue reading
Hemingway whiskey…
Hemingway whiskey.. ( April is poetry month. Poem number eighteen.) Old man wrote into his journal, My secrets, my sins, my indiscreet deeds. Will never be written or spoken aloud. They would die… Continue reading