Midnight invitation…

johncoyote

“Midnight Invitation”, 2016, Yuriy Ku Drop photo”

Midnight invitation

The night was long and the songs were very good. Downtown Austin was alive and well. 5,000 people gathered together to celebrate the New Year. I roamed alone seeking the good drink and the company of people enjoying the night. No strangers in the city of Austin tonight. I didn’t seek the woman like a desperate man no-more. I learn a desperate man is scary. Now I was the drinking man who smiled and enjoyed his drink.  Better to be a mystery than a sale man in the need of love and good company.

I loved Austin, Texas. I fell into her like a perfect fitted glove in the mist of people seeking dance, song and drink. Tonight I went to new wave club. The least people were in this place. The woman danced alone and were perfect Texas beauties…

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Ravishing beauty dancing alone….

johncoyote

Ravishing beauty dancing alone

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
"A re-write"

Ravishing beauty dancing alone

We will masquerade as many people. We will be hopeful and filled with dreams when youth is our advantage. We will strip to bare essentials and dance fearless and unafraid when the good wine and true love is near.

Love is fair. The karma of love lead us to real justice. People who worship love and stay true to the purpose. Can get lost in the emotion of love. They will have danced in the peril of the sweet kiss and can burn and roll. Knowing love is like a free and wild river. Can’t be controlled or imprisoned.

Ravishing beauty dancing alone on the moon light beach. Her long dress flowed with the ocean breeze and her soft feet caressed the sea sand. Her beauty overtook me and a wise man could understand by…

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Almost lovers…

johncoyote

Almost lovers—-

Misty eyes girl, she loved the sea, she loved the whiskey, she was a shade of light, a shade of darkness. She knew the rhythm of every Leonard song. I loved her and she loved the corridors of the kiss and the lovers dance. She loved her freedom and she told me often. Never love a Gypsy gal, they just loan, steal and run.

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Once, you were my bathing beauty, you loved the long bath and the quiet talk. I use to wash your hair slowly and I whispered my poetry to you. I was intoxicated by your eyes, your sweet voice and the landscape of your perfect body. Once you saved me and now we danced on dangerous sea. Should we swim toward each or away? Should we stay or should we go? I told her, love is the plant of peace.

Maybe my heart of…

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Write For Yourself

Roth Poetry

Write for one’s self

Only then will it have meaning

and depth that speaks to others

Forms are fine and fancy words too

But, if you really want to connect

your words must all ring true

Choose not to write for accolades

of unknown publishers who read

multitudes of words each day

with swiftness and care-less speed

Write first for yourself

Share with friends who see

Who feel the depth of your soul

For that’s all your writing should be

So, write your stories and poems for you

You might even put them into a book or two

and give them to folks you care about

And friends folks who care about you

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today is open link night at d’Verse Poets Pub. Over the past few years, I have seen many different kinds of bloggers. Most write from a perspective that is special to them. Some…

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Only We – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

parallax

VJs Weekly Challenge – I’m learning (together we grow)

Photo: Adina Voicu pixabay.com

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.” Rumi

Only We

Even together we are incomplete, incongruous,
unlikely conspirators in the mystery of life,
betrayed by a singularity poised by suspicion
and a boundaried protection of all that is sole,
the furnace of time smelts a truth of other 
in the wrestling and wrangling of all that is plural,
where the sense of oneness is shared in other,
and where autumn leaves and summer sun, tiny wrens,
moments of wonder, kisses and home truths, shared 
dreams and existential questions would hold no 
meaning, besides, with who would I share these
seeming pathetic vignettes, only we make meaning
of these ordinary treasures.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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He Sits Alone

Come enjoy this post from Walt!

Walt's Writings

He Sits Alone

He sits alone
because he is alone
but he’s not lonely

he has his thoughts
his memories, his prayers
and his love for solitude

he enjoys the quietness
nobody tells him what he should be thinking
or what he should believe

he does what he wants
goes where he wants
he has no need to be looked after

so he sits alone

~The Tennessee Poet~
©Walt Page 2021 All Rights Reserved

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