Love, dance and celebrate being alive.
The Pacific Love, Dance and celebrate being alive. She was so beautiful. Five foot eleven inches in height. A slim and perfect body. Tan legs I desired to caress the moment I saw her walk… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
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Everyone is a river.
Everyone is a river A Poem by Coyote Poetry A poem, for my book, The Island.” Everyone… Continue reading
Je t’aime- I love you.
Je t’aime- I love you. You told me in Paris once. “Je t’aime my Johnnie.” Your words like sweet wine overtook my mind and heart. Today I remembered you. Dark brown eyes and… Continue reading
Those were the day, my friend.
Those were the days, my friend A snowy day and the mall at Christmas. I saw a pretty face, and she saw me looking at her. She waited for a few seconds. She… Continue reading
Merry Christmas. Please call the people you love, they may need a kind voice.
(Two brothers who committed suicide before their twenties birthdays. One in 1988 and one in 1989.} “A sad one. If you feel death is more important than life. Please call me. Maybe I… Continue reading
Gaea’s grieve. A short story. For Mother Nature.
Gaea’s grieve A Chapter by Coyote PoetryWe must protect the water, sky and the earth. The children of Gaea. Gaea’s grieve…. (Chapter one)(I wrote for my baby girl in 1996) She sat alone on… Continue reading
An immortal love once.
An immortal love once. A Poem by Coyote PoetryLove is rare and it is a blessing. I had a immortal love once…I told the whiskey glass. The worst sin done, is something we wanted… Continue reading
If we make it through December.
If we make it through December. Pretty Jenny was long legged and sweet as the Fall honey. She loved the Texas two-step, and I love having her body nearby. She was an Austin… Continue reading
Merry Christmas. Be kind to someone.
Be kind to each other. Merry Christmas. Sober men can’t write the truth,godless men can’t see heaven.Liquor voice, does not seek salvation,only seek to repent to the whiskey bottle. We are like an… Continue reading
Merry Christmas. My grandfather’s house.
My Grandfather’s house. (First written on 14 March 1980- Rewritten 29 December 2015) Time has moved too quickly.I have growth from a small lad to an old man. I remember following you my… Continue reading