My grandfather house.
My Grandfather house (First written on 14 March 1980- Rewritten 29 December 2015) Time has moved too quickly.I have growth from a small lad to a old man. I remember following you my… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
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The raging water.
The raging water I see your bare skin laying alone and I’m writing though-out the night just words into the stream of the internet, forgetting the once powerful need for your body nearby.… Continue reading
On a thread of a word.
On the thread of a word (Freedom is only the distance between the hunter and his prey.) Bei Dao Just like a hurricane from hell.You twisted my world from a lonely existence to… Continue reading
Isn’t no fucking good wars.
(Johnnie at Fort Ord, California. 1992.) Isn’t no fucking good war. A Poem by Coyote PoetryCan’t allow the hate and fear to overcome us. World been the same for a long time. Must dance… Continue reading
Maybe love? Or maybe just another lullaby to be written.
Maybe love? Or maybe just another lullaby to be written. (We must make the good days last forever my friend.) She had suppliant breasts, a wide beautiful smile and strong pale legs. She… Continue reading
Sweet Molly Malone.
Molly Malone said. “Sweet mistress Malone” I caught the dengue fever in South America in 1993. Bad food and tropical weather did me in. They send me to the England shores to heal.… Continue reading
Almost love. And the amazing Peterson song.
Almost love in California. I was your Hemingway and you were my Agnes. We were free falling into a love that could never be. I wanted you forever and you wanted to be… Continue reading
The ankle bracelet.
The ankle bracelet. The defining of beauty is easy to describe. I have stood on mountain tops and worshiped the hawk and the eagle.I have been in the arms of the great sea.… Continue reading
Run with the wind, dance with the sea.
Don’t look at me with disappointment. Don’t look at me.Don’t give me those sad looks of disappointment.I don’t care what you see. I’m breaking down walls,I’m not afraid.Like you, a robot.Walking the walk… Continue reading
Too late for forgiveness. Remembering Hayden Panettiere.
(I watched dear Hayden Panettiere grow up. Broke my heart, her death. This is an old poem. Once I was in a hurry and did not listen. Two brothers committed suicide. One in… Continue reading