Arousing illusion.
Arousing illusion. Old man told the kid sitting with him at the bar.The senses. Taste, smell, sight, touch and hearing.Make us live and die in them.Make us want things we cannot have and… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Poet
Please take my heart, please take my hands.
Please take my hand, please take my heart. Old man told the young soldier in the Fort Louis NCO club. You must die to learn to live. You must lose everything to appreciate… Continue reading
Moonlight confessions.
War.The war is over,the guns locked away,the soldiers are resting.Youth and eyes burned out by war,No-one won. 2- Miss you.I’m missing you,I whispered to the falling sun in the west.The raising moon shed… Continue reading
Capture thoughts.
1- Rage and pain,illusion and deceit.Love born than died. 2- Slender shoulders kissed.The nakedly dance,the midnight hour splendor 3- Captured,unrestrained,taunts and torment.Imperfection enshrined. 4- Capture thoughts. I cannot escape them. Once heavy memories… Continue reading
California.
California. Johnnie hiding behind his paper and pen. Once a great dreaming, once a great lover of the sea, once the wandering man, has lost his way. Now he is seeking Salinger’s silence.… Continue reading
Letters and promises.
Letters and promises. You saved me once my dear Julie. Your kind and sweet words upon sheets of paper made me wish and hope for a better tomorrow. You wrote me. —1- Dear… Continue reading
No regrets.
I have no regrets (A Poem by Coyote Poetry Bad days become less painful with time and distance.) No regret. I stopped in Ann Arbor in June, year 2000. I liked to swim… Continue reading
Our world.
Our world. One earth and people, we are. The sea touches our feet; the sea belongs to all the people of our world. The sun, sun-kissed our face. Same sun that touches every… Continue reading
The Scarborough fair.
Scarborough fair. I once dance with the prettiest gal at the Scarborough fair. I told her, I wanted to marry her and to make her smile every day of her life. She smiled… Continue reading
Slow dance and a wonderful Ana Popovic song.
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 us. I… Continue reading