The Word-man, Wordsmith or storyteller


                                              The word- man.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

"

Need people to desire peace before we cross a line of no return.

"

 

 

020_20                            

 

 

 

Many years ago. In 1991 to 1993. I would read my poetry on the coastline of California.  I had some fans too. Old woman and young girls. They called me the word man. I carry a book of poetry and wrote on the beaches and the nearby mountains. I met many word men and women. Many musicians and surfers hung with us. We had  a lot of beer and liquor.  Best days were in Big Surf. Sharing music and the word. Need more word men and women. Good to listen and learn. Leonard Cohen and Dylan are the first word men for me.  I found many more when I search into the past. Art, word and music is needed. Utopia was forgotten and lost with time. Beauty, song  and words is the last freedom we got.

 

 

025_25.jpg

 

 

 

 

The word man.

Old man of 36 years old. Drinking the tequila slow.

Young girl at his feet. Asked for a poem. “Please word man tell me a tale. Make me laugh. Make me forget. Allow be to find some peace and safety  in your word.”

 

He smile at the young girl. Told her. “Old man is tire. I said too much and no-one cared. Old world is falling apart. All I can do is watch and wait.”

 

The girl ponder the words. Told the man. ” When we forget the value of words. What is left? Words create hope and sadness. Words can create change and make people think. We need words in song and story. We need pictures of beauty. We can’t forget to know laughter and do what we can.”

 

The word man smiles. Told her. “We are, but peddles in a pond. That rarely moved.  No-one can do too much to change life. We are fools waiting for the end to know peace.”

 

The girl open her small journey. Told the word man. I wrote this for you.

 

Words were just whispers in the wind. My voice had become forgotten. All my dreams were stole away. I saw no greatness in my soul. I listen to a Poet at the Monterey Coffee house. Read his words strong and proud. Told us be strong and live life without fear. Test life and travel. Don’t allow the naysayers stop you from great dreams.

 

I believe you then and today I know the word man is inside the tire and drunk body.

 

I felt a tear roll down my face. I tossed the tequila to the sand. Told my young friend. Let go get some coffee and we can write some poetry together. Ain’t a good day to waste on useless things.

 

I turn and looked at her pretty young face. Kissed her forehead. I thank the young words girl. For showing me laying and waiting for nothing. Is useless.

 

Need people with dreams and hope. Too many people with great dreams are gone. Need more Artist, Musicians and writers. Must show the world we can know peace and calm.

 

War is not  the road to peace. Guns create fear and hate. Soldiers are not the tools of kind countries.

 

Love and kindness are the way. My favorite word man is gone. John Denver. He stated in a  song.

 

“War is man’s sin.”

Thank you for reading.

John castellenas/John Coyote

017_17

 
 

© 2012 Coyote Poetry

  Share This

 
Category : alcohol, Alisa Fineman, California, life, love, madness, ocean, peace, photos, pictures, poet, poetry, Poetry and story, writing