Hemingway's whiskey

Some words.

Hemingway’s whiskey

 
Hemingway saw war, he loved, he drank and he danced with the pretty gals throughout the four corners of my world. I tried to follow his path, to seek knowledge, swim in the s**t-storm of life. Maybe find some good reasons to be alive. I learn the taste of the Hemingway’s whiskey. I learn to love the burn, the taste of hardness.

 

I loved the sea, I loved the girls and I am never was content waiting for death. I needed new muses, new city and new faces. My restless life left me lonely till I knew. I was alone and a 30-30 rested on my kitchen table. I was saved by dear Grandmother’s telephone call. Her words changed me. She whispered. “Are you alright honey, we love you and please come and see me. We need you alive and well.”

I escaped again and I found peace in South and Central American in 1992. I learned to drink the rum and I still drank the whiskey, I would tell Ernest. Mr. Hemingway, I love the Honduras sea, the pretty girls and the tropical forest. You would love this place, you could write and we could drink some Irish whiskey and sing songs till the moon falls into the sea.

 

One day at the Purgatory Inn. We will drink the Hemingway’s whiskey and I would ask for a story. I would ask him. Ernest, what was your final thoughts my friend?

 

Dancing Coyote

Author's Note

Just words.

Reviews

[Patricia Wedel]

dear John... if we can find a way to relax and still have control..
it would be best... but War has a way to bring men to the Brink,
and so they drink. But with love and peace and poetry. those men
can cope and hope for better days. Thank you for your Service.
truly, Pat

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Pat for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[Chris]

Good song, story, and heart.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Chris. I appreciate the comment.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed you capture the nature of Hemmingway and your journey to emulate him as you fall through life seeking a raison d'etre. Love the feel of this and the honesty and the way you link the protagonist to Hemmingway in spirit and physically.

[Coyote Poetry]

Hemingway saw too much. A warrior, maybe too many ghosts were following him? Thank you John for reading and the comment.

[Kaede16]

Cheers. I’ll drink to that.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Kaede16 for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[Robert Trakofler]

As a member of deaths clean up crew I can tell you as a medic that no beauty comes from the torrent. Only stains, stains that cant be washed away from the hands of the wretched. I think we sometimes confuse the electric spark of adrenaline in the turmoil as beauty and we long for the feeling but it is not beauty. The sharp contrasts of a man risking his life for another brother is... especially while in the maelstrom. I think me and Hemingway would come to blows should he and I sip his Whisky bottle! I am half McCoy from the line of the Hatfield's & McCoy's So the Bunny stays away from the bottle these days but i have that feud demon in me :( This was a very contemplative write Mr Coyote.
I loved the girls and I am never was content waiting for death. (Think you might want to change this line)
maybe lose the am?

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Bad bunny. I appreciate the comment and the help.

[‘Thoughts In Time..]

Thoughts kept hidden are the thoughts that can change the world- the wats of the world dont bring live and joy only temporary satisfaction- the search for truth and true live is long adventurous and can be very painful- but all thise who seek shall hopefully one day find- but internal is where it begins- i wish people would be true to thier hearts and be settled with less not more- wonderful words 🌹

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Kelly for reading and the comment. you are right my friend.

[‘Thoughts In Time’🌹]

Thankyou for the amazing write like always🌹

[Chris Shaw]

A wonderful write and I am sitting here thinking thank goodness for your Grandmother making that call when she did. She was tuned into your wavelength perfectly. I understand that perspective as a Grandmother myself and know when my grabdchicks are in danger. I wish my own Grandmother was still around to sense that in me. She certainly could when she was alive. Your writing is full of interesting and wonderful experiences and wisdom gained n the travel of life Coyote. Always a pleasure reading you.

Chris

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Chris. Our grandmother, they know.

[Chris Shaw]

They do, they do indeed.

[drew garner]

this is a great piece of writing.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Drew. I appreciate the comment.

[olla]

I don't know.. words can be pretty powerful if strung together just so.. Hemmingway.. his life story was as spellbinding as his fiction.. just to be who he was with no apology.. "warm and smooth and mean.." too bad Gramma didn't give call him too.. "we love you.. we need you alive and well.." thank for these words.. I know a few boys who are warm smooth and mean.. I might need them..

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you olla. I appreciate the comment my friend.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i just love his writing...always have...and often wish I could have sat with him for a spell and picked his brain...you allowed for me to do this with this poem...thank you, Coyote,
j.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Jacob. Me too, I would love to shared some whiskey and story with Hemingway.