I am waiting for you..
I am waiting for you.. Once we were brave, we stripped bare and we showed real face. I sang to you. “I am waiting for you my dearest love. I remember you told… Continue reading
I am waiting for you.. Once we were brave, we stripped bare and we showed real face. I sang to you. “I am waiting for you my dearest love. I remember you told… Continue reading
“Three fingers of Tequila… One finger for the cancer, one finger for the poison they send pouring through your vein one finger for the preacher cause I don’t believe the Jesus that who… Continue reading
Bang, bang… You were my Tijana Radeska and I was your Doc Holliday. We loved to argue, we love to wrestle till we fell into secret kisses near the Lake St. Clair. You… Continue reading
Hemingway table.. I found Hemingway table in Paris, in the Spring of 1978. I found Hemingway table in Monterey, California in 1992. I searched Central and South America for three years, seeking… Continue reading
The desperate kiss… Old man last wish, old man first wish. She tattoos his memory in the Summer of 1996. Was the finest gal he ever seen. She made the sleeping man come… Continue reading
I will return my love A Poem by Coyote Poetry Two poems about life, war, peace and death. Remember what John Denver said. “War is man’s sin.” Prayer for peace.. Guns and bombs… Continue reading
The poet’s eyes, the lover’s song… A pretty lady glided across the room to me. Her eyes inflamed with the hunger for a dance, sweets words and some kisses. I told her. Dear… Continue reading
Jazzy Wednesday poetry.. 1- I told her she was so damn pretty. I love her eyes of coffee brown. I had watched her dance alone. Tight black dress, strong legs and robust body… Continue reading
Just a 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… Continue reading
Just a Black Velvet lullaby… I wrote to a old journal in a Austin, Texas tavern in 1993. The poet don’t cry, he just write some more. Hemingway told us, we, who love… Continue reading