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
Tag Archive: Writing
War, love and memories..
Five short poems. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words. War..The war is over.The guns locked away.The soldiers are resting.Youth and eyes burned out by war.No-one won. Miss you..I’m missing you.I whispered… Continue reading
Come with me and be my love..
Come live with me and be my love A Poem by Coyote Poetry I stole a line from the great writer Christopher Marlowe Come live with me and be my love.. (Come live… Continue reading
Beautiful stranger.. And a amazing Halsey song.
Beautiful stranger.. Sitting alone in the corner in a piano bar bar in Austin, Texas.Reflecting on things lost on the road.Strangers are around me.Whispering secret to their lovers.Under the dim lights.Where words are twisted to revive passion and… Continue reading
The lady in the black dress..
The lady in the black dress.. Dancing alone in a downtown Austin tavern with my empty Black Velvet whiskey bottle in my hands. Playing alone in the bone yard of long and shattered… Continue reading
Damn the ancient Gods..
Damn the ancient Gods.. Pretty lady laid bare in heart and soul watching the sun fall into the sea.She looked at me and told me. “Damn the gods who hate love, they tried… Continue reading
Please Peggy, don’t cry.. And one of the great songs.
Sweet Peggy, please don’t cry… I found you again in 1992. My war had ended for awhile and you were fighting a lifetime war. You had gin, vodka and whiskey on your kitchen… Continue reading
Can you catch a falling leaf?
Can you catch a falling leaf? The days of October are here and I did the greatest sin. I returned to a place of magic trying to find the scent of yesterday. Time… Continue reading
Bridgette wrote..
Bridgette wrote.. Painted words are what the writer understand. Wisp and grasps of sweet dreams are the last myth of emotions for love and words. Dead writer in the Winter of his life.… 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