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
Tag Archive: short-story
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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
Pretty Peggy. The last dance.
Pretty Peggy. Once I chased you and all I wanted was a kiss, a dance. I told you often, you were the most beautiful girl in my world. We tried to find love… Continue reading
Dear Molly Malone.
“Sweet Molly, Sweet Molly Malone I can see if you smile, Though I’m off half a mile, For my eyes all the while, Keep along with my head, And my head on must know, When from Molly… Continue reading
Can you catch a falling leaf?
Can you catch a falling leaf? The days of October are here, and I did the greatest sin. I returned to a place of magic trying to find the scent of yesterday. Time… Continue reading
Leftover wine.
Leftover wine. In Austin, Texas. Pretty woman confessed her sins to the bar room poet. He listens to her tale, and he caught glimpses of soft tears falling for things that were in… Continue reading