I remember love.
I remember love. I do remember love, love was sweet, love was kind. The sweetest days, stealing touches and stealing kisses. When the heart is young and hopeful. We reach out for the… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Poem
I want to drink whiskey with Amanda Shires.
I want to drink whiskey with Amanda. Beautiful Amanda wanted to drink with Leonard Cohen and I want to listen to her and to drink the whiskey with her. I want to hear… Continue reading
Midnights thoughts.
My midnight thoughts. I am drinking alone at 6 pm and the night is going so damn slow and I drinking the Blue Moon and I fall into the old songs. Almost 9… Continue reading
Happy Valentine Day. Love words.
Love words. Do we remember love? The pretty poet asked. I told her. When we are young, the allure of love, make us believe in a sweet miracle. We are infatuate with the… Continue reading
Happy Valentine Day. No mas amor.
No mas amor. My velvet and silk dream, we danced by the Florence Summer moon. The star lit the sky and our feet moving to the sweet song. I whispered to her, you… Continue reading
Write, write and write some more.
Write, write and write some more A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Words are powerful. They create tears, laughter, happiness and sadness. Without the great word-men and word-women. What would we know and understand?” … Continue reading
I hate you, War.
I hate you, War Dear grandchild. I’m so sorry. I left you just blood and hate. My father left me Vietnam, and I left you in a world swimming in red blood of… Continue reading
Contained love.
Contained love A Poem by Coyote Poetry If we forget the people we held precious. We can lose them forever. Contained love. She had a heart of gold once. She held patience near… Continue reading
You are my ambrosia.
You are my ambrosia. (Adult poetry.) He loved when he was inside her. The wetness of her warm vagina made him feel madness. Like two becoming one in the dance of passion. They… Continue reading
The empty jars. And a beautiful Amanda and Maren song.
The empty jars. I watched her in the kitchen organizing the empty mason jars and empty bottles. She told me on a cold Winter morning, I store my dreams in the old mason… Continue reading