Show me the way to love.
Show me the way to love. A Poem by Coyote Poetry A poem written in 1979. Being young and hopeful is when we have no fear of disappointment. Show me the way to… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
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Please stay with me.
Please stay with me. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Rare times in a life we can find comfort with another. We need to hold on till the dream disappears. Please stay with me. I… Continue reading
I knew we were running and escaping love touch in the same second.
I knew we were running and escaping love touch in the same second. (If we do not kiss. Will I miss the kiss?) I went to Ann Arbor looking for a memory and… Continue reading
Sin, whiskey and Lake St. Clair. And one of the great songs.
Sin, whiskey and Lake St. Clair. 1- I told my lovely Detroit gal, I need kisses tonight. I am leaving tomorrow for a faraway war. I need to remember my beautiful Detroit girl… Continue reading
One more cup of coffee and a glass of Black Velvet whiskey too.
One more cup of coffee and a glass of the Black Velvet whiskey too… I loved the Belton, Texas dance halls. The good music, the Texas two-step and the women seeking more than… Continue reading
Happy Valentine Day. 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
Write, write and write some more.
Write, write and write some more A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Words are powerful. They create tears, laughter, happiness and sadness. Without the great word-men and word-women. What would we know and understand?” … Continue reading
Contained love.
Contained love A Poem by Coyote Poetry If we forget the people we held precious. We can lose them forever. Contained love. She had a heart of gold once. She held patience near… Continue reading
Seconds in time.
Seconds in time… A Poem by Coyote Poetry What would we say to the people who were kind and generous to you? To be able to say goodbye to the loves one’s who died… Continue reading
Black laced pen.
Blood laced pen. Fight or flee? Love or hate? Stay or go? Laugh or cry? I wonder what Hemingway remembered in his last moment. Did he remember war or the face of Agnes?… Continue reading