Be a flexible branch, not a dead root..
Be a flexible branch, not a dead root.. Late October in 1992. I had 45 days to get to Fort Ord. California. I left Michigan with three weeks left and four destined places.… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
Dirty little secrets.. Part two.
Dirty little secret- part two Me and Liz walked the path where the boats docked by the river leading to the Lake St. Clair. She took my hand and she interlaced them tightly… Continue reading
Dirty little secrets. Part one.
Dirty little secrets-Part one.. She knew. The first time I saw her face. I loved her. Once in a private moment. I told her. Dear Liz, my Elizabeth. Some people enrage the heart… Continue reading
Those were the good days, my dear friend.
Those were the good days, my dear friend… A snowy day and the mall at Christmas. I saw a pretty face and she saw me looking at her. We waited for a few… Continue reading
Once we had the days of Spring..
1- Once we had the days of Spring.. I remember it was the first warm day of Spring in April 1977. She found me by the lake and she shared a beautiful smile… Continue reading
When the sun kisses the moon..
“You taste like sunshine just like you’ve been kissed by the morning light and I was the darkness dancing with the stars carelessly, breathlessly and our lips meet softly. color creeping in the… Continue reading
Fabiola..
Fabiola.. (Now nothing remains the same) Your name came to me late in the midnight hour, brought back the canvas of your perfect body, your kind smile and your beautiful face. Your name,… Continue reading
She was dancing alone…
She was dancing alone.. She was dancing alone. Moving her bare feet slow and easy to the Jazz songs. She looked into my eyes and she waved me to come to her. I… Continue reading
Nevermore, evermore or nothing more..
Never more, evermore or nothing more… She told me, please take of the mask. You may not like what you see. You have learned to love the darkness, please look closer, look closer… Continue reading
Katie wrote..
Katie wrote A Poem by Coyote PoetryA old poem with a proper re-write. Katie wrote.. Painted words and bloody thoughts are what the writer understand and hold tightly to. The wisp and grasps of… Continue reading