The animal… Written in 1984….
( Johnnie Coyote in 1995 in Monterey.) The animal. A Poem by Coyote PoetryWho is the real loser in a war? Is there a winner? The prisoners may seem weak and controlled. Their hope… Continue reading
( Johnnie Coyote in 1995 in Monterey.) The animal. A Poem by Coyote PoetryWho is the real loser in a war? Is there a winner? The prisoners may seem weak and controlled. Their hope… Continue reading
Ly O Lay Ale Loya (Circle Dance) The elder is burning the sage, cleansing the air of separation. He told the people, many races, many hearts and we are becoming one in… Continue reading
My Ojibwa Grandmother Chant My dear Ojibwa Grandmother with sad eyes would chant songs of ancient times. I still can hear them in sweet dreams where I was safe and free, I remember… Continue reading
California poetry- Write down your wishes and prayers (I burned sage today and I wrote on a sheet of paper, Then I burned the paper, release to the sky. Please lord of… Continue reading
My Christmas prayer Thank you Lord of life and death. I had a safe and wonderful year. My children are near and grandchildren laughter overtake my home often. I have good heath and… Continue reading
November thoughts Once I needed everything and I learned. Everything wasn’t needed. November is coming and the cooler and slower days I do love. I am in the November of my life.… Continue reading
(The Island- part four A Chapter by Coyote Poetry New chapter) The Island- part four I liked the Captain face. He had a ancient and kind face. He took my hands… Continue reading
One earth, one people Who remembered the people who once lived in the dead cities? Bombs, war and soldiers torn apart once great cities. Where did the people go? Who is responsible?… Continue reading
The Bacchus prayer She whispered, come hither, come near. The setting moon is watching us learn the Bacchus prayer. “Chainless souls, love the maddest nights. Those who drink and they know… Continue reading
The willow trees Old poet told the girl. We must try to go back to where we were, if we can. The bright eyed girl asked with wonder, dear poet, I… Continue reading