I need a Springtime kiss, a summer love.
I need a Springtime kiss, a summer love. I need a Springtime kiss, a summer love.I wonder if love was ever real for me.I asked the rising moon, my dearest love, I remember… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
Mojo a-coming.
Mojo a-coming… I left Ann Arbor in 1990. The dead man walking had nothing to lose. Joined a war to see, if he was alive or dead? The damn war taught me; Johnnie… Continue reading
Ghost and shadows. Chapter one.
Ghost and shadows. Chapter one. A Chapter by Coyote PoetryLife is accepting life as-is. Maybe we have enough. Ghost and shadows- chapter one. Beautiful Tanya waited patiently with the kind morning sun upon her… Continue reading
Everything.
Everything. You were my wildflower dream. You were my wild dance and song, away from controlled life and wars I couldn’t win. I would have done everything for you. You were my wild… Continue reading
Now and forever.
Now and forever. Old soldier, a dying man drank alone. He returned home after 10 years of war, travel and sin. He knew when he left the Pacific Ocean. No-one was waiting for… Continue reading
Love tragedy.
Love tragedy. I remember the hello. So sweet and kind. You were a wild girl in a woman body. You made me learn to dance, learn to climb the fault lines of California… Continue reading
Was life, everything you wanted?
Was life, everything you wanted? Once I chased you from Germany to the land of Scotland. Once we were brave and once, we danced till the songs were done in dark taverns. Once… Continue reading
Somethings shouldn’t behold or touched.
Somethings shouldn’t behold or touched. You have taunted my dreams and made me wish for sordid and frenzy nights, captured in your embrace. I want to fall into the inferno of your warm … Continue reading
Should have loved you more.
Should have loved you more. He left love doorway 2,500 miles away. The hardest and coldest man, he loved the whiskey, and he loved the taverns. He loved the darkest days, and he… Continue reading
Did we give enough? Did we bleed?
Did we give enough? Did we bleed? The loco Monterey Poet shouted to the sea. Did I give enough? Did we bleed? The prettiest girl in Monterey, she laughed at his words. She… Continue reading