The sea, the wishes.
The sea, the wishes. Lovely poet measured him with her gentle blue eyes, and she watched how he spoke the words. She listened to his words, and she adored the Monterey Dark Poet… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
Delia. And an amazing Johnny Cash song.
Delia A Poem by Coyote Poetrylove can be sweet.. Love can damn us (The name Delia is of Greek origin. The meaning of Delia is “visible”. It is also of English origin, where its meaning… Continue reading
Bare and true.
Few times in a life. We open up to another and show them the real person. Bare and true… She was a noble beauty, and she hushed me with her grace. In… Continue reading
Am I dead or alive. Old poetry needed today.
Am I dead or alive? A Poem by Coyote Poetry A old poem found. Written 1987.” Am I dead or alive? Describe emotion,describe love,describe pain. For every beautiful moment.Must there be pain also?… Continue reading
Nothing will last forever.
Nothing will last forever A Poem by Coyote Poetry A re-write from 1989″ Nothing will last forever. She sat alone. Her lingering tears falling down her beautiful face. I have told her often.… Continue reading
The songs of the seasons. An Ojibwa prayer.
The songs of the seasons. Warm days, cold nights.Create a restless passion.I can hear the whisper of the windon a solitary hill. Old Mother Nature is calling for aid.The water is sick with… Continue reading
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
Resemble love.
Resembled love A Poem by Coyote Poetry True love is rare and hard to find. Resembled love Pretty as a perfect picture and she gave me sly smile and a wink.I was weary… Continue reading
Wild Maria, dancing Maria. My Winter storm.
Wild Maria, dancing Maria. My Winter storm…. The crimson night, the thunderstorms of life had brought me to you. I watched you from a distance and I dreamed of moonlight nights, feeling your… Continue reading
The last chance motel.
The last chance motel. Summer Texas night, cold drink and no-place to go. Michigan dreamer, drinking his Long Island teas and writing into a journal. “Song of my father, songs of the long highways,… Continue reading