Category Archive: coyote poet

Two steps from Hell- part one.

Two steps from hell… In a dark Gypsy carnival years ago. A beauty Gypsy woman told me once. You are two steps from hell. Hell is easy, seeking peace is the impossible task.… Continue reading

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Bad, bad , bad ass lady….

Bad, bad, bad ass lady… She was the prettiest gal I ever seen. She was drinking the Johnnie Walker whiskey alone, her shoes were off to the side of her bar stool. Her… Continue reading

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Sway….

  Sway… The Poet’s wish. Never sweet and never easy.  A dancing beauty moved with the song. Her hips moving slowly with the tempting words. The dancing damsel, she knows she was the… Continue reading

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You are my masterpiece….

 You are my masterpiece… I saw you drinking and dancing alone. You were still as beautiful as in the Spring of 1978 when our eyes met for the first time. I remember you… Continue reading

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Hell or high water…

 Upstream…. You were never easy. You were the day and I was the night, never stopping to keep our promises made. You were my sun and I was the moon, so much to… Continue reading

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Be quiet dear lover/ Quédate…

   Be quiet dear lover/ Quédate … The sky is grey and the sun is hidden behind the rain clouds in the early morning. You and I had traveled to Palma, Spain. The Germany… Continue reading

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We loan, we borrow and we steal…

We loan, we borrow and we stole… The Winter of 1978, we create boundless nights, we made  thousand promises for love and you taught me. We loan, we borrow and we stole.  The… Continue reading

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Mystical places…

Mystical places A Poem by Coyote PoetryFirst love, first real kiss and the first true words of love become mystical places where we can find in sweet dreams forever.                                Mystical places….. Many types… Continue reading

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Blue eyed girl…

The blue eyed girl A Poem by Coyote PoetryA old poem with a rewrite from 1992. I found a book with loads of unpublished poetry. From 20 years ago. I was free and mad.… Continue reading

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Spin the bottle…

Spin the bottle A Poem by Coyote PoetryThe game of youth get used without our permission with old age.                    Spin the bottle…. Old man sat alone. Told me. “Damn if you do. Damn… Continue reading

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