Black heart

Beth Hart is amazing.

                           Black heart

In 1994, old soldier was trying to drink himself to death. He had given everything he owned away and left everyone he loved. Behind.

He loved the crimson light, the dancehalls and the Texas nights. He became the dark poet who loved the jazz and the Devil women. Every Friday night, he sat alone in Belton, Texas. Not seeking to be saved, not seeking peace, he accepted the chaos of living.

Pretty Texas girl asked him. Is life, gin, sin and s**t? He smiled and told her. Us greedy people, we kill the things we love and we do not die. Pretty Cindy, life is gin, sin and bullshit. We laughed, we loved and we danced. Once I knew the white light and now I know the darkness.

A dark eyes beauty sat with him on a Saturday night in Austin, Texas. She was a Mexican woman with long black hair and wearing a colorful dress of multi-colored. She requested a dance. He offered her a drink and he saw soulful eyes looking into his eyes. She whispered, no thank you Coyote. 

He took her to the dance floor and she held him closely and she whispered. Black hearten man, dead men don't cry no-more in hell. Hell is filled-up with crying and foolish men. You must taste dirt to appreciate the taste of sweetness. I am a caretaker, a final warning and your second warning. If you seek death, death shall find you. Remember dead men, do not rise again. Each of us have wars in our minds to fight. Karma can be a b***h, must be repaid  in three-fold and if you love the darkness, the darkness can overtake you. Please Coyote, time to leave the taverns, it is time to forgive the sin of yesterday. All we can do is our best. Maybe you haven't found your proper place yet? The song ended and she kissed his face-cheeks and lips. She whispered, all of us have angels and demons singing sweet songs to us. Please seek life, not death. 

He watched her walk away and he followed her outside to the August Texas heat. He saw a empty parking lot and he looked at the moon. He whispered. Where are you my kind muse? My mercy.

                                     Dancing Coyote

Author's Note

Just words.

Reviews

[Robert Trakofler]

Coyote sometimes i crave that darkness even to this day! You painted it so well that feeling to linger in the obscurity of numbness and gin was my favorite you just say the word gin and i can still taste it and the s**t too waking up in jail cells and the random bar fights over side-wards glances were the only things that gave me any feeling cutting thru the numbness of almost dead. Yeah that place it still calls me sometimes there's a comfort to oblivion it never fails you, can rely upon it. you get what you expect... nothing! masterful expression good sir

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Robert. I miss the dark days too. Good to be the tavern poet.

[John the Baptist]

George Jones could have made a great song out of this one.

[Coyote Poetry]

George Jones, a great singer and thank you my friend for reading and the comment.

[Relic]

I've met people with that darkness and ugliness in them. Like being in a cage, they're always searching for whatever it is they need to find the right way.

This is good and so is the song, Coyote.

[Coyote Poetry]

Her new song. Beth Hart is so good and thank you my friend for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.