The street Poet

02310004beulah and john020_20

(Thank you my dear friend on Writer’s cafe. Honored me with these words)




In the moment we become

A Poem by KLGoode


to the very inspiring John — aka Coyote Poetry


I imagine you.
Sometimes as you describe yourself. Lonely. A Drifter.
A sometimes soldier, sometimes lover.
Lines on your face and eyes deep with the pain of laughter and love.
The colour of them is irrelevant,
for revealed inside them is the colour of you.
Speaking softly.
Street poet.
Your touch is rough, but tender, hands that have lived many lives and known many palms and faces and soft inner thighs.
Hands that have known and created moans and sighs.
Lips that have known love and passion and formed words that healed and bruised and healed anew.
Not a devil.
Not an angel.
Just a man.
Who dreams in poetry.