One more cup of coffee .
One more cup of coffee. She was a California dream, in her eyes. You could see the great sea. In her voice, she could take away all my sadness. I went to her… Continue reading
Do more.
Do more. 1- I was blindsided by her. Her eyes, bright and demanding. I asked her. What do you need my lovely? She gave me a devilish smile and she told me. Please… Continue reading
The song of May. And an amazing Leonard Cohen song.
The song of May. I am taking the train to Basel. Dear Alexandra is waiting in the city of wonder for me. She found me on the poetry site and she told me.… Continue reading
Rage and pain. And a lovely Katy Funke song.
Rage and pain,illusion and deceit.Love born than died.—- Slender shoulders kissed.The nakedly dance,the midnight hour splendor—— Captured,unrestrained,taunts and torment.Imperfection enshrined. John Castellenas/Coyote
Did we love? Did we bleed?
Did we love? Did we bleed? Oh, la, la, la. Dear love, I sang to you, I sang to us. We were whiskey nights and whiskey kisses. I loved you more than life… Continue reading
The cold night whispered.
The cold night whispered. The April rain hid my tears and I walked alone. Once great love turn indifferent and our love true turn to fathom dreams. We spoke careless words, maybe true,… Continue reading
Parable of Celia.
Parable of Celia She sat alone by the peaceful lake. Her pale legs and bare feet being sun-kissed by the late Spring sun. She was wearing a sundress of white showing soft and… Continue reading
The lost and found.
The lost and found A Poem by Coyote Poetry “When love is misplaced. Hard to find again.” The lost and found. I loved the Monterey nights. I would walk from Fort Ord, California… Continue reading
Rebirth.
(Corporal C. in 1992.) Rebirth A Poem by Coyote Poetry Some people desire a rebirth in new places. I wonder do we change? Rebirth… Old Johnnie drinking the cheap Honduras rum.Told the two pretty Honduras… Continue reading
Stand for the freedom of speech. Utopia of the pen and the paper.
Utopia of the pen and the paper. A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Last freedom is the mind. Can’t control the mind completely. Always hope hiding somewhere.” Utopia of the pen and the paper.… Continue reading