On the thread of a word…


On the thread of a word

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
"Talk softly, be kind. Love is tender and soft. Can be broken like a butterfly wings.)

"                              On the thread of a word….
       (Freedom is only the distance between the hunter and his prey.)
                             Bei Dao..

Just like a hurricane from hell.
You twisted my world from a lonely existence to a life
where I needed your caress.

You took me to a dark bedroom.
Lite many soft candles and
you slowly torn down walls of disappointment.

The voice of Leonard Cohen whispering sweet words of
“Dance me to the end of love.”
In the distance.

You were not my first lover,
you would not be my last.
But I held you close like you were my last breath.

The rain is pouring down softly and
we listen to the rain in a needed silence.

You rose…

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Some days can be perfect..


Some days can be perfect

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
"Life is like the sea. We can be as powerful as a Winter storm or quiet as the smooth dance of the morning tide."

                                     Some days are perfect…

Wine, dance and the song.
The good days are long and sweet.
The tasty and sweet wines open the doors to new friendships and possibilities.
New songs are written upon our heart and minds.

Sweet Jenny, long auburn hair and eyes of river blue.
Her legs as long as the Mississippi river danced by the small lake.
She fell to the ground and she drew a heart in my journal. Wrote my name inside and rose
up and gave me sweet kisses and a warm embrace.

We drank the Germany September red wine.
Weak in alcohol and sweet in the taste of fruit.
She loved to dress up. She great dreams…

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She kissed me once and only once..


She kissed me once and once only

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
"I read the great Writer Jack London again. Gave me some positive motivation. You must read “When God laugh.”

                          She kissed me once and only once…

A great and wise writer Jack London told me many secrets.
I learn you can’t defeat  the Gods.
They have twisted sense of humor.
They will allow us to know victory  and swim  in the ecstasy  of the win
than steal the joy and happiness from you.
Leaving the victor with dead land, homeless people and new hate being reborn.

The trickery of the Gods are brilliant.
Men will dance on the graves of their enemies.
Then the dead will rise up and take back what was lost when the victor
become old and weak.

I wonder do the God’s pity man for his hate and violence?
Does he turn away…

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