Fabiola, my Fabiola.
Now nothing remains the same. Your name came to me late in the midnight hour. Brought back the canvas of your perfect body, kind smile and your beautiful face. Your name, Fabiola. Made… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
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Barefoot dreams.
Barefoot dreams… I met the Sergeant Major nightly at the Bowling alley, dance club and bar at Seaside. He was forced retired and slowly dying. You would never know it. He maintained his… Continue reading
Seconds in time.
Seconds in time… I learn in a bloody crazy life. Seconds become so important. I went to war in 1991. I called my Grandfather Reyes… Continue reading
Love beholds; love be bold.
Love beholds, love be bold I told Nicole, you awoke my slumbering heart. I love your beautiful face, your womanly curves and the elegant of your words when you speak. I love your… Continue reading
Stitches.
Stitches… I remember her last words. The million hellos were erased by a midnight good bye. Once we entwined our lives and now in my secret place. A million fingerprints, leftover reminders. I… Continue reading
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 near.… Continue reading
The rising sun.
The rising sun I sat in the New Orleans in 1996 in a old rustic tavern on main street. I liked New Orleans, hard time and hard days couldn’t kill her spirit. I… Continue reading
The Coyote spirit.
A Poem by Coyote Poetry Last dream is freedom. When it is gone. What is left?? Coyote spirit (In Native American Myth. The Coyote was the joker. Laugh at life and held no fear.)… Continue reading
The liar’s moon.
The liar’s moon. The Coyote was quiet tonight, tranquil night allowed him to recede to the deep tides of memory. The warm days of Spring always awoke the memory of his sweetest friend.… Continue reading
The crazy one’s.
The crazy one’s. Beautiful lady could make me laugh when she dances to her own song. She is my crazy one. My wildflower who knows open roads and can make the sad days… Continue reading