The poet, the dancer and the artist.
The poet, the dancer and the artist. It was last warm days of Summer, the late August warm days were appreciated. Two men and one woman are drinking their coffee near the Port… Continue reading
Tag Archive: short-story
Love is a careless child. And beautiful Katy Claire song.
Love is a careless child. Her skin whiter than Winter snow and her trembling lips of soft pink tempted the fearless man. His boldness lacked the confident of his youth. He had learn… Continue reading
The last chance motel.
The last chance motel. Summer Texas night, cold drink and no-place to go. Michigan dreamer, drinking his Long Island teas and writing into a journal. “Song of my father, songs of the long highways,… Continue reading
Pretty pictures.
Pretty pictures. I loved love, but love didn’t love me. I told the pretty Austin, Texas gal. I adored her bare shoulders and her black dress that draped her skin tightly. She smiled… Continue reading
She was a sea dancer.
She was a sea 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… Continue reading
Trying to lose your memory.
Trying to lose your memory. I tried to find peace and calm in the coffee houses of Monterey, drinking strong coffee and reading dead-end poetry at the nightly poetry readings. I thought I… Continue reading
Just a black Velvet lullaby. And an amazing Alannah Myles song.
Just a Black Velvet lullaby. I wrote to an old journal in an Austin, Texas tavern in 1993. The poet doesn’t cry, he just writes some more. Hemingway told us, we, who love… Continue reading
The Texas two-step.
The Texas two-step. She was a tall, long legged Texas girl. She gave me a coy smile.Somehow, I caught her attention. I knew, a pursued man are just cattlewaiting to be slaughter. She… Continue reading
Blushing beauty stole my heart. And a beautiful Sunday Girl song.
Blushing beauty had stolen my heart. The drunk poet, he loved the noisy Austin taverns. He liked the people who had fallen, and they liked silence over worthless words. The sameness of faces… Continue reading
The Nightingale song.
The Nightingale song. The Ojibwa grandfather volunteered to watch the five grandchildren and he took them to the big water. He told them if you listen well, you can hear the nightingale songs… Continue reading