The misery, the whiskey. A Texas story.
The misery and the whiskey. I returned from the war in 1993, and I tried to find peace in the Long Island ice teas in the Belton Texas dance hall. I went early… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
Wildflowers dreams.
Wildflowers dreams. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Old friends face had come to me lately. His baby girl is getting marry. It is sad poem. War take the best from us. Wildflowers dreams.… Continue reading
The tarots cards.
The tarot cards. I went to an old dark carnival on a hidden road outside of Sarajevo.I have been having a dream about a Gypsy woman. The dreams had brought me to the… Continue reading
Love words.
Love words.. Do we remember love? The pretty poet asked. I told her. When we are young, the allure of love, make us believe in a sweet miracle. We are infatuate with the… Continue reading
I remember you.
I remember you. The summer days were long andthe splendor of the blue skies and the bright sun.Beckon us to the sea. The heat of hot days.Thaw our cold hearts.The beauty of Monterey… Continue reading
Jazzy Monday. Old love.
Jazzy Monday. Old love… She called me at midnight and she asked me. Johnnie, Johnnie. Do you remember me? I am so damn lonely tonight and please Johnnie. Can I come to you tonight?I… Continue reading
The sea dancer.
The 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 and beautiful… Continue reading
Once upon a time.
Once upon a time. I returned to Akron in 1980. I was looking for a sweet memory In 1973 at my fifteen-birthday party. The prettiest friend of my sister gave me a birthday… Continue reading
The trees.
The trees A Poem by Coyote Poetry I had a tree poem in my head for weeks. I hope it is worthwhile to read. Trees BY JOYCE KILMER I think that I shall never see… Continue reading
The walls and the damn mirrors.
The walls and the damn mirrors A Poem by Coyote Poetry Can’t hide what we became when we see our reflection in the mirrors The walls and the damn mirrors. My father told… Continue reading