Once upon a time. For dear Susie.
Once upon a time. I returned to Akron in 1980. I was looking for a sweet memory In 1973 at my fifteen-birthday party. The prettiest friend of my sister gave me a birthday… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Online Writing
The wicked games, we play.
The wicked games, we 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 love the darkest… Continue reading
San Francisco.
San Francisco A Poem by Coyote Poetry A wild and fun city. The people were kind and the city was safe for people seeking good drink and a good time. I found this poem… Continue reading
Maybe yes, maybe no.
Maybe yes, maybe no? I been hiding in the highway 35 taverns for three months. Started drinking early and writing, the happy hours blues poetry. Once I was the great dreamer, wanting everything… Continue reading
The light and the darkness.
The light and the darkness. You told me. “The black heart, too dark and cold for love. Is just barren soil. Nothing can live in soil swimming in the blood of heartache and… Continue reading
I will take care of you dear lover.
I will take care of you dear lover. Ancient Poet wrote. You can be killed off with kisses and loving eyes can turn cold and dark. Pretty Beth whispered. Take me, make me… Continue reading
The storm.
The storm A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Sometimes we want what we shouldn’t have.” The storm. She had shrouded him with gentle embrace. She was his dream and want. He knew to refrain… Continue reading
The sparkle in your eyes.
A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Old memories and places.” The sparkles in your eyes. I remember when the sparkles in your eyes could light up the world around you. I remember how badly… Continue reading
Let it be.
Old man sitting alone. Sitting on the cliffs of Pacific Grove. You can see the Pacific Ocean forever. Miles of the beautiful and powerful sea. He write words into a black notebook. Secret… Continue reading
She was a dancer..
She was a dancer… She was a dancer and I was the Monterey Irish Pub drunk. She could paint the sea, she could paint the forest and she could paint beautiful faces and… Continue reading