Open the door my dear lover

Open the door my dear lover

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
"

Some Jazz and some words.

"
Open the door my dear lover
I told the bartender at the Downtown Austin tavern, I was born sick. My mind twisted and wrong. I was born poor and now I have enough. I have  been a dancer, I have been a taker. I have tasted love and I known hate. I made people bleed and I have bleed for things gone. I have lost and found God often. I was the soldier who learn to pray when the guns were a-brazing. I met the Devil here in Austin once. He bought the Scottish whiskey and he taught me the liar's song.

"The liar's song

The prettiest gal in Austin whispered to me,
Come and get it baby,
the night is long, lonely and the bed is cold alone.

She had ginger hair, black dress and eyes of green.
I told her, love demand payment.
How much will you take? Steal?

She smiled and she whispered, open the door dear lover.
Never leave a gift-horse and in Texas,
we don't want ownership, we want the long ride and the hot nights.
Love isn't found in Austin,
just bright lights and pretty things.

I brought her closer and I whispered.
I love you already and she smiled. Told me.
I love you too."

The bartenders laughed at my words and he poured me a double shot of Jimmy Walker. 
He smiled and he pointed at a ginger hair beauty wearing a tight black dress watching me from the darkness,
 her eyes so demanding, so cold. They could freeze the sun. He pushed the drink toward me and he told me. The
pretty lady told me. For you to drink the whiskey and come on over, if you are brave enough. She said you made promises and you went AWOl.

I watch her while downing down the whiskey. She was barefoot and I watched her feet move with the song. She was a fine memory and a poet's dream, maybe a nightmare? Dear Delia, once made me beg for mercy and we found equal ground for a time in the Winter of 95. I was deployed away to Iraq  and we never exchange addresses. 

I went to her. She stood-up and embraced me tightly. I tried to apology and she put her right hand to my mouth and she  whispered. Soldier, soldiers must do what they must. I heard the soldiers left in January and I am glad you are not dead. It is Summer time in Texas and the night is still so damn hot. I have cold beer, iced-up and Jimmy Walker in mass at my house. I been waiting on a prayer. Someone who like the wicked dance and the he knows the  liar's prayer. I missed my Michigan poet.

She wrapped her arms around me and I smelled the sweetness of perfume on her soft skin. I asked her. If I knock on your door, will you open the door for me? She whispered honey, sweetie, lover. I gave you the key once. The door is wide open and the music is already playing. The deepest jazz, you ever heard. I smiled and I whispered. I love you dear Lelia and she kissed my neck and face. She whispered, I love you too.

                          Dancing Coyote
 

© 2020 Coyote Poetry


Author's Note

Coyote Poetry
New words.

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Featured Review

You do the best job of any writer I've read in painting the "bar hookup scene" as being real & palpable, honest & legitimate. Many judgmental people (who've not done any "bar scenes" in life) may think of this as being a place where alcoholics linger. But it's so much more than that. You show all the richness & rawness of people who are letting their guard down & letting relative strangers hear their heartsong, longing for a connection. Your various connections tumble forth with highs & lows, honestly, just like real life (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 1 Month Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

1 Month Ago

Thank you dear Margie. I was listening to Jazz and remembering my good days in Austin. I believe I c.. read more
barleygirl

1 Month Ago

You gotta do one in each place! It's hard for me to sit still & write a book (which I want to do) be.. read more
marilyn 1225

1 Month Ago

Barley will try to get a book right now home for 8 days from penn hospital you sure have co.. read more



Reviews

The song couldn't be more perfect. I listened to it after reading. This is the devil's song..a siren song. Damn, I love this write...so good...all of it.

Posted 1 Week Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

1 Week Ago

Thank you my friend. I need the city of Austin and a few jazzy nights.
Light and Ashes

1 Week Ago

You're welcome :)
Wow, this is a very well written write, so descriptive. like the imagery as well.

Posted 4 Weeks Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

4 Weeks Ago

Thank you my dear friend for reading. I spend seven years station at Fort Hood. I did love Austin, T.. read more
You do the best job of any writer I've read in painting the "bar hookup scene" as being real & palpable, honest & legitimate. Many judgmental people (who've not done any "bar scenes" in life) may think of this as being a place where alcoholics linger. But it's so much more than that. You show all the richness & rawness of people who are letting their guard down & letting relative strangers hear their heartsong, longing for a connection. Your various connections tumble forth with highs & lows, honestly, just like real life (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 1 Month Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

1 Month Ago

Thank you dear Margie. I was listening to Jazz and remembering my good days in Austin. I believe I c.. read more
barleygirl

1 Month Ago

You gotta do one in each place! It's hard for me to sit still & write a book (which I want to do) be.. read more
marilyn 1225

1 Month Ago

Barley will try to get a book right now home for 8 days from penn hospital you sure have co.. read more

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

97 Views
3 Reviews
Rating
Added on October 31, 2020
Last Updated on October 31, 2020

Author

Coyote Poetry
Coyote Poetry

MI



About
A Poet and writer who love to read and write. My pleasure is reading about the bad and good in a life. Also to honor the Poets/Writers of the past by reading their words. Remembe.. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


Herb Song Herb Song

A Poem by Neville


Betrayal. Betrayal.

A Poem by Paul Bell





Advertise Here
Want to advertise here? Get started for as little as $5