Once we had the Elvis songs…

 Once we had the Elvis songs… Hello girl, it Johnnie in Michigan and I am sorry to call you at at Midnight hours. The drink is wearing me down and I am listening… Continue reading →

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The fingerprints…

The fingerprints…. I washed the blankets and I washed the sheets. I opened the Window wide and the damn cold air awoke my memory of you. On a September night in the Fall,… Continue reading →

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I had a dream, I had a good dream…

I had a dream, I had a good dream. A Story by Coyote PoetryMy dream poetry. Dryden, Donne, Hemingway, London, Kosinski, Bukowski and Ben Jonson came to me in my dreams last night.   … Continue reading →

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You saved me…

You saved me… A Poem by Coyote PoetrySave one life, we know happiness. Save many lives. We know peace.” (My grand-boys and my grand-daughter Mia.)                   … Continue reading →

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Your love’s like heroin…

 Your love’s like Heroin… Lace and silk, whiskey and sin, pain and misery we loved. I loved to watch you paint your beautiful face and I told you. You are a natural beauty.… Continue reading →

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Bad to the bone….

( Johnnie in Monterey 1992.)  Bad to the bones… (Written in 1989 rewritten.) I’m going crazy. I don’t know which way is out or in.I have fell into too deep. I can’t see… Continue reading →

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You are in Paris and I’m here…

You are in Paris and I’m here A Poem by Coyote PoetryWe cannot forget love.                         You are in Paris and I’m here… I hurt myself again today and I allowed you into my… Continue reading →

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A cradle hymn…

(Johnnie and his baby girl in 1996) A cradle hymn. A Poem by Coyote Poetry In a child eyes, we learn what love is.                               A cradle hymn…. Hush little baby. Don’t you cry.Daddy… Continue reading →

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Beautiful Laura sat by the sea…

Beautiful Laura sat by the sea A Poem by Coyote PoetryBeautiful places and things can’t be forgotten.                         Beautiful Laura sat by the sea…. I sat in a field of wildflowers.The scent of the… Continue reading →

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Maybe Bukowski…

Maybe Bukowski? A Poem by Coyote PoetryYears ago. I met Bukowski in California. I didn’t know who he was, at the time. He read my work and he told me. Good stuff and we… Continue reading →

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