The Texas jazz, I do need..
“Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope.… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Texas
Who am I now? And a beautiful LeAnn Rimes song.
Who am I now? We are the same, we are different. I believe we want the same things and some of us want more and some of us want less. Some of us… Continue reading
Give and take..
Give and take.. Pretty woman spoke of love and hate in the same sentence.I asked her. Did she know the different between love and hate? She downed her shot of Jack Daniels. She… Continue reading
Angel dancing, too close to earth..
Angel dancing, too close to the earth. A Poem by Coyote PoetryJust words. Angels dancing, too close to… Continue reading
The lady in the black dress. Texas poetry.
The lady in the black dress.. Dancing alone in a downtown Austin tavern with my empty Black Velvet whiskey bottle in my hands. Playing alone in the bone yard of long and shattered… Continue reading
The Texas jazz. I do need.
The Texas Jazz. I do need. A Poem by Coyote Poetry I need the Jazz bars, the jazzy people and the storytellers. Pretty women with darks hearts. Never lie. They don’t have to. I… Continue reading
Black roses..
Black roses..A Poem by Coyote PoetryJust words. Black roses.. Cynthia, eyes of stone with a cigarette in mouth. Whiskey breathe woman, looked me up and down, like a place of mystery. She asked… Continue reading
Unforgettable..
Unforgettable..I found you waiting, holding flowers of blue.I watched you pondering life and possibility.Your eyes rose up and you asked me. Was I okay?I told you. I create an unforgettable memory.And was you.… Continue reading
Boundless sea, honey love and sacred fires.
Boundless sea, honey love and sacred fires.. It was early Summer of 1994 and I was stationed at Texas. I went to Austin, Texas for the a poetry reading. I was trying to… 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,more… Continue reading