I hope your days be bright and love will be near you always.
I hope your days be bright and love will be near you always. She was my Gypsy girl, my Monterey Bay dancer. She would gather her friends, and they would find the sea.… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
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I dreamed it was silence. Five war poems.
I dreamed it was silence. So damn quiet. Yesterday man became the forgotten man. He followed his father; he followed his grandfather footsteps. Sought war, drink and unknown places. Old soldiers don’t tell… Continue reading
She was a Spring Day, and I was a Winter storm.
She was a Spring Day, and I was a Winter storm. She words a pendant of tourmaline on her neck and she never wore shoes. She adored the sea and she loved watching… Continue reading
The lonely damn night.
The lonely damn night. Johnnie in Michigan, drinking alone. Listening to the good jazz and needing nothing. He liked the silence, He loved the Jazz. He went to the jazz man, and he… Continue reading
Who are you?
Who are you? I love the book “The picture of Dorian Gray.” When reading or listening to the amazing book. You question yourself. Who am I? I question you my friend. Who are… Continue reading
Last man standing. Pray for peace. Demand peace.
The last man standing.. A Story by Coyote Poetry Talk of Nuclear war again. The foolish people thinking about using the nuclear weapons. Need to watch the movie. “Mad Max.” The last man standing… Continue reading
When the drinker prays and an amazing Jessey Adams song.
When the drinker prays. Once brave man, once soldiers, once businessman and now a grandfather. He watched his world fall into madness and he pours three fingers of Gentleman Jack. Once he believed… Continue reading
German September sweet wine.
(For April, poetry month. Poem number four.) Germany September sweet red wine. 1- September was merciful. Warm days, quiet days and time to sing, dance and drink. The Children were celebrating the September… Continue reading
The masquerade.
(April, poetry month. Number three.) The masquerade. The masquerade. Was a blue moon night in New Orleans and no-one wanted to show their real face. Beer, wine and liquor was plentiful. Women were… Continue reading
She used to love me a lot. And an amazing Johnny Cash song.
She used to love me a lot. I saw my ancient love, and she was drinking the whiskey straight, sitting alone at the Purgatory Inn in Ann Arbor. I told the waitress, send… Continue reading