Monthly Archive: November, 2020

Texas bars and Texas women

 Texas bars and Texas women (A old poem written in 1993. When I roam the Texas as a young man.) The Doctor told  me.“You are damn healthy.You must take care of your self.”… Continue reading

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Maybe I Have a Black Soul

Originally posted on Sébastien Pellé:
Maybe I Have a Black Soul You told me I was differentYou told me I was crazyYou told me I’m amazingYou told me I’m so funny You…

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Stalking Beatrice

Originally posted on The Champagne Epicurean:
A Short-Story in Verse ? The Timeless Meets the Timely ? The shadow of eternity falls painfully On the moment that craves immortality. Memories fortified into cold…

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Lead with concern, kindness and love..

Lead with concern, kindness and forgiveness A Poem by Coyote PoetryJust words. And the best version of a wonderful song.  What do our children see? What lessons are being taught to the children? We… Continue reading

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Dangerous places and beautiful faces.

Dangerous places and beautiful faces. A Poem by Coyote PoetryIt is good to walk upon the edge.                          Dangerous places and beautiful faces. Dangerous places and secret rendezvous.To swim in uncontrolled passion and enjoy… Continue reading

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Almost California..

(Johnnie and Jennifer in Monterey, January 1992)  Almost California——– I was your Hemingway and you were my Agnes. We were free falling into a love that could never be. I wanted you forever… Continue reading

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Love and Doubt

Originally posted on Dragonfly Poetry:
Standing underneath a grove of autumn treesthe girl and her charmscompliment each other. One can’t really tellwhere the sky beginsall that I can confess,I can only stare. There…

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‘For my people…‘

Originally posted on SIDEWAYS EIGHT PROJECTS:
~ For my people… ~..…And this better existencewill consist of my peoplefor my peopleby my peoplelaying claim to their namein this gigantic gameand the potentialto continuedoing amazing…

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I am a gallery

Originally posted on finding serendiipitii:
I am a gallery, long floored and wide brimmed? ? ? no footsteps from tourists have padded these halls,? ? ? ?signs suggesting an escape from my reality…

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Bitter branches…

Bitter branches Old men are like ancient trees. Life will expand and multiply.They will sit on old porches  and remember skeletons and blunders.The have learned profound knowledge and the texture of the body… Continue reading

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