Where will this road lead us?
Where will this road lead us? A Poem by Coyote Poetry Love can be dead in heart. Awoke with one sweet kiss. (Johnnie in Monterey in 1992.) Where will this road lead us? Love… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
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Gypsy lovers and Irish morning coffee.
Last house near the lake. Was our place to rest. We were Gypsy hearts and Irish coffee mornings. We would find the quiet lake rarely, for we loved the whiskey, deadly dances and… Continue reading
The song of love.
The Song of love. Drunkenness in a reckless love, knowing the true fragrant of love.The blackness of love, the whiteness of love.The dead love, the alive love.The desperate love and the forgotten love.… Continue reading
Resemble love.
(Nothing as sexy, as a woman can play a game of chess.) Resembled love A Poem by Coyote Poetry True love is rare and hard to find. Resembled love Pretty as a perfect… Continue reading
Three fingers of Johnnie Walker. For his Scotland love.
Three fingers of the Johnnie Walker. He went back to Aberdeenshire in the Autumn of his life. He found a place to drink and to watch the sea. He wrote in his notebook.… Continue reading
I followed you and you followed you.
I followed you and you followed me. I was following you and you were following me. And we did not know. She was a beauty of splendor who aspired to challenge the sea,… Continue reading
The tarot cards.
A Story by Coyote Poetry “We can learn things in the strangest places on this planet.” The tarot cards. I went to an old dark carnival on a hidden road outside of Sarajevo. I… Continue reading
Killer on the road.
Killer on the road (Blessed is the man who can learn peace and justice without shedding blood) A Poem by Coyote Poetry (What good and bad we do in a life. The scars will… Continue reading
We were just men and women.
We were just Men and Women…. 20 soldiers sat and waiting in a room .The education of War written deep in their brains and hearts. Their souls became polluted with word kill, protect… Continue reading
The wisp/the kiss, the memory.
The wisp/the kiss, the memory. The Long Island ice tea. A Chapter by Coyote PoetryA new series of short poetry. Part one. The wisp/ the kiss, the memory…… Continue reading