Hold my hands…
Hold my hands… I will follow you. Will you follow me? He told his ghost-love. His hell-bound life led me to a lonely place. Old soldier returned to the Monterey Bay and he… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
Sacrificial meal..
Sacrificial meal… She was a tall, long legged Texas girl. She gave me a coy smile.Somehow I caught her attention. I knew, a pursued man are just cattlewaiting to be slaughter. She bend… Continue reading
The city of lights or anywhere..
The city of lights or anywhere. (I am tire of being locked-in. I need a vacation to anywhere.) We sat drinking the American whiskey in a Paris tavern where Dear Hemingway drank his… Continue reading
Understandable..
Understandable.. I told the pretty Gypsy gal at the Stray Cat Inn. Love never befriended me. I sought the wild sea, I sought the sea dancer. And I learn. Love isn’t understandable to… Continue reading
Everybody knows..
(I borrow a few lines from Leonard Cohen.Sometime we need to learn emotion and feelingsfrom people who lived a long life.) “Everybody knows” Mr. President. Did you see the food prices?Poor people making… Continue reading
Dear Monterey..
Dear Monterey.. The kind Gods took me from war to you dear Monterey. I joined wars to try to die the proper death. Suicide, I couldn’t do. War didn’t want my death. The… Continue reading
I knew we were running to and escaping love touch..
I knew we were running to and escaping love touch in the same second. ( If we do not kiss. Will I miss the kiss?) I went to Ann Arbor looking for a… Continue reading
Should of loved you more..
Should of loved you more… He left love doorway 2,500 miles away. The hardest and coldest man, he loved the whiskey and he loved the taverns. He loved the darkest days and he… Continue reading
Will I find you tonight?
Will I find you tonight? A walkaway love left me waiting for her to return. I remember her tight black dress and her beautiful face. She told me. Dark Poet, we can sing… Continue reading
Utopia of the pen and the paper..
Utopia of the pen and the paper. In the sixties. There was a good dream.We support to be working 32 hours a week and enjoying art, poetry and music by the year 2000.The… Continue reading