Worn and torned love.
Worn and torned love. Written on 8 April 1985 (For Angela. A lost and confused young lady. I tried to pick her up and show her life was okay. I hope she… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
Is this the end my friend?
(Coyote in 1991in the Kuwait desert.) Is this the end my friend? A Poem by Coyote Poetry I’m tire of war. I’m tire of naysayers of peace. Is blood and death is what we… Continue reading
Maybe, one more cup of Irish coffee.
Maybe, one more cup of Irish coffee. I remember the fragrance of her. She smelled like the sea and Irish whiskey. I knew I wanted her on a summer day. She played her… Continue reading
Midnight invitation.
“Midnight Invitation”, 2016, Artwork by Yuriy Ku Drop Midnight invitation. The night was long and the song was very good. Downtown Austin was alive and well. 5,000 people gathered together to celebrate the… Continue reading
Dear Monterey.
Dear Monterey. The kind Gods took me from war to you dear Monterey. I joined wars to try to die the proper death. Suicide, I couldn’t do. War didn’t want my death. The… Continue reading
Write, write and write some more.
Write, write and write some more. What would this world be without words? The ancient writers wrote of war and love without fear.Many of the great writers were damn for their thoughts.I’m thankful… Continue reading
Please take my heart, please take my hands.
Please take my hand, please take my heart. Old man told the young soldier in the Fort Louis NCO club. You must die to learn to live. You must lose everything to appreciate… Continue reading
Letters and promises.
Letters and promises. You saved me once my dear Julie. Your kind and sweet words upon sheets of paper made me wish and hope for a better tomorrow. You wrote me. —1- Dear… Continue reading
No regrets.
I have no regrets (A Poem by Coyote Poetry Bad days become less painful with time and distance.) No regret. I stopped in Ann Arbor in June, year 2000. I liked to swim… Continue reading
Slow dance and a wonderful Ana Popovic song.
Slow dance. Good Jazz, the good drink and drowning in the old memories. My old love dancing alone to the saddest Jazz and I told my whiskey. Pretty lady, I remember us. I… Continue reading