The fingerprints

Come and Enjoy This!!!!


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, you brought your clothing, your toothbrush and your womanly things into my house. You promised me forever and I remember you, laying nude on my bed, waiting for me to fall into your skin, your mouth and those dark brown eyes. I saw the tapestry of chaos in your smile. I knew you were just seeking shelter and I was the safest place you could find.

Now the March cold days are here. You had packed your clothing, tossed away the old toothbrush and left your womanly things abandon in my bathroom. You gave me a lasting kiss and you walked out the door. You didn’t look back as the street stole your memory away from me.

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If you go away…


 If you go away…

Once we loved the rain, the trains and the lazy days. We owned little and needed just enough. On Friday night we would go to the Stuttgart train station and look at the schedule, we would decide a new city to visit. We had just enough money for a cheap hotel, some wine.

I found you at the Bobingen lake in the Spring of 1978, smoking cigarettes and watching the sun fall into the west. We loved Florence and Basel, we loved the songs of Leonard Cohen. I was captivated by your face, your alluring eyes of river blue. You were my German girl, who loved the slower days. Where we wander the old castles of Europe, we seeks out the ancient cities and I would tell you lullabies of things and people gone.

I remember you told me often, my love, my darling, the calamity…

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Love and hate…

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
"I wrote this back inn 1993. Young woman wanted everything and nothing. I told her life is long and hard. We must try to be kind."    

                  Love and Hate…

 She spoke of love and hate in the same sentence.

I asked her did she know the difference?

She wanted my affection and wanted to escape.

Now our love had turn dirty.

Like love was drowning her somehow.

I asked does she want to be free?

A tear rolled down her young beautiful face.

I told her life is a bloody roller coaster ride.

The decision of to give or to take.

It is our road to decide?

Today it may not matter.

All things good and bad  will fade away with time.

I don’t hold on to things that desire  to be free.

The only proof of true love is time.

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Scratched Memories

Poetry collection

Remember, that old park bench

Sketched with our love memoir

Bearing symbols of our hearts

A relic signed with our names

Though rusted now with time

Our young love still glitters

Under the shadow of choices

That tore our lives asunder

I know you prefer to move on

The spark dead in your eyes

I like to travel back in time

Deep down the memory lane

To contemplate the reason

If those scratched words

Ever had any meaning!

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Reflections #6

Source of Inspiration

I see me in your eyes,
beautiful and strong.
Why do my eyes not see
this in me? Is it the
nature of mankind to
not love self, or are
we taught this every
step of the way? And
for what purpose? Who
is it that is so afraid
that we will discover our
power and beauty?

Awaken to who you are
and nothing can ever
daunt you again. You
are a creator, of the
Creator, a power and
beauty to behold.

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Didi's Art Design

Not seldom do we things
With veiled motives
Hiding dully us from ourselves
From our consciousness
To remain unrecognized
In the shadow of other motives
So we ignore the true intentions
Living with a lie in front of ourselves
Not knowing this self-cheating
Feeling even good
Within these second-hand motives…

DidiArtist, 07.05.2021

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Where the mind is without fear by Rabindranath Tagore


Featured poems and spoken word poetry

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

Sharing this one from Rabindranath Tagore who was born 160 years ago. This piece is not just a poem, it is a prayer that still speaks true to this day.

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