Angel’s dancing, too close to the ground.
Angel’s dancing, too close to the ground. Pretty wishes, deadly journeys led me to the Austin, Texas sun and you.Till I met you. I saw grey skies only and the drink was sweeter… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
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
Remembering the fragrance of Winter.
Remembering the fragrance of Winter. I had lived the soldier life. The warm days of Spring did not bring love. The lucky sought the rendezvous with the sweetness of love when the days… Continue reading
Maybe Florence, maybe Basel.
Maybe Florence, maybe Basel. Once beautiful Swiss gal befriended me in the late Spring of 1979. We met in London and she told me. London is okay, but Florence in the month of… Continue reading
Please hold my hands. And an amazing Lady Gaga song.
Please hold my hands. I will follow you. Will you follow me? He told his ghost-love. His hell-bound life led me to a lonely place. Old soldier returned to the Monterey Bay and… Continue reading
Simple rules to live by.
If we show respect to all people. Love the land. Lead with kindness and love. This world would be a better place.” The simple rules to live by.. “Do not wrong or… Continue reading
Like father.
Killed and killed A Poem by Coyote Poetry A true and sad story of the permanent wounds of war.” Killed and killed… On Friday night my father drank his rum. He would come and wake… Continue reading
The days of freedom.
The days of freedom. Yesterday was the first warm days of Spring. I opened the doors and I opened the window. I allowed the air of Spring to re-fresh the house. I took… Continue reading
The sea and the chess game.
The sea and the chess game. Old Poet set-up the chess game and I opened the bottle of tequila.The old man had few friends. People see an old man with no-place to go.They… Continue reading
Freedom is missed. When she is gone.
In the California Mountains. Coyote spirit A Poem by Coyote Poetry Last dream is freedom. When it is gone. What is left.” Coyote spirit (In Native American Myth. The Coyote was the… Continue reading