Beautiful flowers and some words.
Who is right and who is wrong? When both sides are wrong. How many graves must be dug for us to learn. Soldiers and bombs destroying Palestine. USA attacking Iran. Who is winning?… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Poet
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Sunday afternoon poetry.
Sunday afternoon poetry. A Poem by Coyote Poetry My muse is alive today. Sunday afternoon poetry. 1- Was just a kiss, was just a sweet memory. Maybe was the sweetest kiss? 2- Was just… Continue reading
We danced for the sea, and we prayed to the goddess of the sea for more.
We danced for the sea, and we prayed to the Goddess of the sea for more. I called her my honey, I called her dear Jenny and she called me. The mountain who… Continue reading
Now nothing remains the same. For dear Fabiola.
Now nothing remains the same. Your name came to me late in the midnight hour. Brought back the canvas of your perfect body, kind smile and your beautiful face. Your name, Fabiola. Made… Continue reading
Ghosts, demons, lovers and lonely corridors.
Ghosts, demons, lovers and lonely corridors A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just thoughts about life. Ghosts, demons, lovers and lonely corridors. The solemn days leave us with faces of ghosts, demons and angels.… Continue reading
Imagine.
Imagine A Poem by Coyote Poetry Good to wander and imagine a better place to be Imagine. “A Poet is one who believes and one who cannot bring himself to believe” Tadeusz Rozewics… Continue reading
The value of one life.
(USA president told the people. It is part of war. What is the value of one life? Everything to someone.) 1- The value of one life. Men in offices, in Washington D.C. Screaming… Continue reading
The war, the blood and the gun.
The war, the blood and the gun. No-one is screaming for the child of war. They have known only blood and the sound of war. Who do we blame my friend? War is… Continue reading
The lake song.
I told her. I apology sweet Peggy. Somewhere in time, the flowing river of love was murdered. I do not blame no-one. I have accepted my place. I have my journals, my pen… Continue reading
Like this. And an amazing Tilda Swinton verbal poetry.
Like this. 1- When someone ask you. What do you need? Touch their face, hold their hands. Like this. 2- When someone ask you. Do you hate Winter? Open the curtains, show them… Continue reading