Tag Archive: Writing

A wing and a prayer.

A wing and a prayer. He told the Lake St. Clair. We become, who suppose become. Hell-bound life can lead us to place of peace. He told the lady of the lake. Kind… Continue reading

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Beatrice Marcella.

Beatrice Marcella. I found a twenty-five-year-old storage bag. Filled with old photos and old letters. I went through them, one by one. Each photo showed me a stranger, who lived and now he… Continue reading

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Old love.

Old love. She called me at midnight and she whispered. Johnnie, Johnnie. Do you remember me? I am so damn lonely tonight and please Johnnie. Can I come to you tonight? I told… Continue reading

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The lady in the black dress.

The lady in the black dress. Dancing alone in a downtown Austin tavern with my empty Black Velvet whiskey bottle in my hands. Playing alone in the bone yard of long and shattered… Continue reading

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Waling with giants. Number one.

Walking with giants- number one… My two grand-boys are sleeping in the other room at 5am. I awoke early after a good dream and the house is quiet. I dreamed about my grandfathers.… Continue reading

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Run with the wind and dance with the sea.

Run with the wind and dance with the sea. A Poem by Coyote Poetry  When life make us sad. Need to find reason and purpose.                       Run with the wind. Dance with the sea…… Continue reading

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Some days can be perfect.

Some days can be perfect. A Poem by Coyote Poetry  Life is like the sea. We can be as powerful as a Winter storm or quiet as the smooth dance of the morning tide. … Continue reading

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Morning glory.

Morning glory A Poem by Coyote Poetry  Good to open your eyes and see the glory of the new day and beauty near.                                 Morning glory. The smell of fresh coffee and pancakes cooking… Continue reading

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I knew how to sing once, dear Julie.

I knew how to sing once, dear Julie. Once I believe in love and I believed in the ambrosia of forever.When I drink my coffee late at night and I write. Sweet memories… Continue reading

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It is cut and dried.

It is cut and dried. A Poem by Coyote Poetry  Old words still mean the same.                      It is cut and dried. Old man sitting at the Old Fox tavern.Drinking his rum and coke… Continue reading

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