Young man words, poetry.

The whore bath

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Sometime we must think and make wise decisions, written sometime in the eighties.)”

The whore bath…..

 Large shining teeth.
Telling me the way to heaven.

 I will find my way to paradise by the gift to his Christian cause.
 His teeth seem to shine brighter.

His mumbling of a thousand words.
Leave me feeling dirty.

I get a damp cloth and wipe away the words of a greedy man.


 The captain tells me.
” I own you. “

“You do what I say.
Even  to death.
I’m in-charge.”

 I try to wander away.
 But he keeps speaking.

I feel dirty and go to the latrine.
I get a damp cloth.

Another whore bath in a life where the words are eating away at my soul.

 I sit in a classroom.
 The instructor asked me?

If I was ordered to kill.
Would I?

I tell him I would kill him first.
But my words become weaker with each second the instructor speaks.

 He shower me with his blood song and I began to understand.

The sweat pours down my face and I go to the bathroom.

One more whore bath for a man drowning in useless words.
Forced to accept for a few pennies.

Beliefs only a mercenary could believe.

  Maybe if I was a high paid whore.

 I could live with the things I must do.

 But nothing as bad as a cheap whore.

                     Coyote

---

 Well oiled machine…

I love you like a stranger,
my lips touching your lips,
my body feeling the heat of your flesh.

As I hold you close,
I don’t feel the hunger to enter you.
I feel the desire to make you feel wanted.

I don’t know where my hunger had gone,
but the hunger of the fuck has faded away
many Winter’s evening,  so long ago.

You do not feel my desire
to make you feel safe and content.
Your hunger overtake me.
I act more like a well trained animal then lover,
trying to give you pleasure.

Your desire to be touched, used and abuse is stronger
then my desire for you to feel unwanted.

I touch you like a machine.
A well oil machine,
prepared to give you the proper and perfect
touch desired.

You do not realize.
I feel we skipped too much.
We moved too quickly,
for the hunger of the flesh
is more powerful than the gift of love and friendship.

We separate in the early morning.
Even you feel a weakness and a sadness,
for the satisfying of the body leave
the heart to mourn.

At least I will leave less hurt.
I saw the hunger in your eyes.

                             Coyote
                              1984

---

Cold steel

Baby, I told you.
Ain’t no heart in my chest.
I’m just a body that does the daily functions.

I’m dead.
I died a long time ago.
I could tell you a story.
But my words are even locked up now.

You are young.
Still able to love.
Don’t give your love to a man who eyes are dead.

It is myth.
That you can bring back the dead to life.
 Cold steel can only melt on the  trip to hell.

When you can’t remember the good times.
The tender moments.
You are just a body waiting for the end.

I have the hunger to touch beautiful things.
I’m well trained.
I will eat you alive.
Leave you for dead.

I won’t care.
If you are laying in sadness and pity.

Cool steel is my name.
My hunger is to look into the eyes of dark Angels.
Who will dance the twisted dance of who can punish the other more.

I may tell you I love you.
 Just words. Just a means to get you to invite me into the
warmth of your warm flesh,
till I release my desire into flesh and bones.

I was told time heal all wounds.
One more lie, given to us by people trying to pry the
kindness out of us.

I don’t desire love.
I don’t want your pity.
Don’t need nothing but to dance in the heat of the warm flesh.

If you want me to love you, my child.
You should escape now.
For the wall of my heart is mighty tough.

On my trip to hell.
I won’t tell no stories.
I was the man called Cold Steel.

I told you I’m dead.
If you are a fool.
Try to break down the steel wall.

One day.
I will kiss you goodbye.
I will watch your tears.
I will tell you.
You wasted your love on a man with a steel heart and no emotion.
I will leave you without feeling any regret.

So my child.
Walk away.
For something can’t be changed.
I’m dead and buried. A long time ago.

I can’t remember when or why I died.

Cold steel is my name.

                                   Coyote
                                   1980