A poet’s love and a beautiful Lorde song.
“As long as the poet’s words live, the beloved will be, in a way, still alive too.” Shakespeare “If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.”― Mike Everett “If a… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
What is ugly? What is beautiful?
What is ugly? What is beautiful? A Poem by Coyote Poetry What is ugly? what is beautiful? He watched the pretty artist on the Monterey pier. He brought her coffee and a salad.… Continue reading
I hope your days be bright and love be near you always.
I hope your days be bright and love will be near you always. She was the Gypsy girl, Monterey Bay dancer. She would gather her friends and they would find the sea. They… Continue reading
My North Dakota hurricane. And a beautiful Hope Winter song.
My North Dakota hurricane. Beneath the midnight Monterey moon, we danced, we drank and we adored the Winter storms of the Pacific. We served as soldiers in the daytime and in the night.… Continue reading
Please give me one-year in Florence.
Please give me one year in Florence. I visit beautiful Florence four times in the late seventies. She left me with good memories. I was young and she was gorgeous. I was alone… Continue reading
The haunting echoes and dangerous dreams.
The haunting echoes and the dangerous dreams. 1- I told the morning, yesterday is gone and today is here. I go to my garden, and I remember my grandfather’s words. Johnnie, you did… Continue reading
Russian Roulette.
Russian roulette. Beautiful young woman danced on a stage on the border of Austin Texas, moving like a beautiful butterfly in the breeze. She held the attention of the men holding tightly to… Continue reading
Scars, we do have. And a beautiful and amazing Alessia Cara song.
Scars, we do have. The saddest gal in Monterey asked me. You make me laugh when I want to cry, you make me smile when I want to disappear. You hold my hand,… Continue reading
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
Everyone is a river.
She sat in her bra and pantie, her bare feet moving and dancing in water of Lake Superior. I adored watching her and I traced her body with my eyes. I loved her… Continue reading