Dearest Cheryl.
Where are you my sweet lady blue? You were so damn pretty, and you begged for my attention. You were muse and siren. Your kiss deadly and so damn sweet. You wanted me… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
Fallen angel.
Fallen Angels. In the lair of the fallen angels. Old men talk of fleeing love, old war and missed faces. I joined the club at a young age. Bad decisions, dead brothers and… Continue reading
Trying to lose your memory.
Trying to lose your memory. I tried to find peace and calm in the coffee houses of Monterey, drinking strong coffee and reading dead-end poetry at the nightly poetry readings. I thought I… Continue reading
Sweet red wine.
Sweet red wine A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Youth is the best days in a life. Days are long. Love is possible.” Sweet red wine. It was early fall. The sweet new wines… Continue reading
She is still in my sweet dreams.
She is still in my sweet dreams. (I knew life was unfair. Few times in a life you meet someone.Who set your soul afire. Wisdom brought me the knowledge.Some woman can’t be held prisoner.… Continue reading
If I was the king of the forest.
IF I was the king of the forest. A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Old memories and old dreams.” If I was the King of the Forest. American Soldiers drinking with boisterous and loud German women and… Continue reading
A lullaby. And an amazing Leonard Cohen song.
A lullaby. Old man memories become sweeter with time and distance.The old man wondered if she remembers him, like he remembered her.He was twenty years old once and youth was his wealth for… Continue reading
You can’t return from where you left. And a lovely Jennifer Nettles song.
You can’t return from where you left (A Poet, is one, who believes and one who cannot bring himself to believe.–Tadeusz Rozewics) I’m watching the waves dance on the Monterey Bay in my… Continue reading
I am jealous of the sea; I am jealous of the May wind.
I am jealous of the sea; I am jealous of the May wind. A beautiful California girl is dancing alone with the Pacific ocean and the the May windy night, tossing her long… Continue reading
Too poor to love you, my lady midnight.
Too poor to love you, my lady midnight. We danced in the Belton, Texas dance hall and you smell of the wildflowers of Texas.You rested you head into my chest and I whispered… Continue reading