Why do we write story and poetry?
Why do we write story and poetry? A Poem by Coyote Poetry Old wise saying. “Nothing good to say. Say nothing.” Poetry, my dear friends,is a sacred incarnation of a smile.Poetry is a sigh… Continue reading
Black as the night..
Black as the night.. Love is sweet and love can be so deadly. I knew Jenny was so damn beautiful. Youthful eyes and woman perfect curves, make a wise man become a tomfoolery… Continue reading
Always on my mind..
Always on my mind… Love alive or concealed, leave us wishing for things lost.Beautiful faces and places leave us yearning for things we cannot have. I remember you. Your long and sweet kisses… Continue reading
My dream weaver..
My dream weaver.. 1- I do remember our moonlight dance at Big Sur.We had the half moon above us andI saw everything beautiful in your wild hazel eyes.I tossed you into a swirl… Continue reading
Softly we shall go..
Softly we shall go… Softly we shall go, you and me. We had danced in many dangerous storms and we want more. Baby sweet, honey, my love. We need shoeless days, we need… Continue reading
A one way street, sweet baby.. And a beautiful Elle King song.
A one way street, sweet baby.. Pretty lady called me lover, she called me friend. She told me, I need you near and please hang around dear Johnnie. I told her, sweetie, lover,… Continue reading
Pray for peace, scream for peace, stand for peace..
If we are silence, against hate and war. We accepted the hateful world. If we allow the wars to be fought and we believe war is far away. One day, the wars shall… Continue reading
My dear Beatrice..
My dear Beatrice.. She told me. Johnnie become like the dancing waves. Wild and free. Allow the Monterey nights to make us know the freedom and the laughter. Enter into the mediation of… Continue reading
You are my ocean..
You are my ocean My first love was the sea. Uncontrolled and free. I danced with her, as a child. I fell into her waves and I felt the safety of her power… Continue reading
Spin the bottle..
Spin the bottle A Poem by Coyote Poetry The 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