The dance of the flowers..
The dance of the flowers.. Please my dear love. Let’s dance in the wild flowers fields and near the Lake St. Clair.You and I. Blessed by the moving water and the dancing branches… Continue reading
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The rage, the pain and the kiss..
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
Some Tuesday quotes..
“This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper..” T.S. Eliot “My grandfather told me often, one day, the teacher will become the student. The student will become the teacher.” “Once my dear grandmother… Continue reading
You can’t run from yourself..
You can’t run from yourself… I thought I had chameleon skin. My face could change with the weather, the continent. Once a blushing beauty told me. You are so handsome. Please show me… Continue reading
The night rain..
The night rain.. Velvet and silk dreams turned stormy and dark.I held you close and I whispered.A little bit longer dear love,I want to listen to your heart and hear you speak,I want… Continue reading
Did you know I love you..
( Dear Moriah, my niece killed herself last year. 28 years old. Left many broken hearts.) 1- Silence words are meaningless. Did I tell you I loved you, did I tell you I… Continue reading
I was condemned after I saw your place..
I was condemned after I saw your face… I was looking for the wide open road and some kind of freedom.She sat alone on a barren road on the back road of Texas… Continue reading
Monkey’s paw.. My January tale.
Monkey’s paw.. My late January tale. A Story by Coyote Poetry Part of old version and a modern version. Be careful what you wish for. Everything cost something. … Continue reading
Deluded love, broken promises..
Deluded love, broken promises and melancholy dreams… 1- Deluded love.. Pretty Peggy came to me at midnight, carrying Hemingway whiskey and a hopeful smile. I saw in her eyes, I was her last… Continue reading
The wild roses… Good songs and some words.
The wild roses.. The old drunk Poet told me. Johnnie, wild roses are supported to be free and wild.Things, that are too beautiful to touch will make us yearn and need till we… Continue reading