Tag Archive: books

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Utopia of the pen and the paper..

Utopia of the pen and the paper. In the sixties. There was a good dream.We support to be working 32 hours a week and enjoying art, poetry and music by the year 2000.The… Continue reading →

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The lady near the sea..

The lady near the sea…. A rainy and gloomy night in New Orleans in the Winter of 1992. Johnnie tried to drink away the heaviness of things left behind. He sat alone near… Continue reading →

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Memorial Day poetry. Old soldier..

Old Soldier A Story by Coyote Poetry  Only Soldiers understand what another soldier had saw and felt. Strangers to war and violence cannot understand. When you are near death for too long. You appreciate… Continue reading →

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Write, write and write some more..

Write, write and write some more.. A Poem by Coyote Poetry  Words are powerful. They create tears, laughter, happiness and sadness. Without the great word-men and word-women. What would we know and understand?                              … Continue reading →

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Blood in, blood out..

Blood in, Blood out.. Little boys and girls grow up and become men and women. They were raised watching war, violence and hate. What did we teach them? What did we leave behind… Continue reading →

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Endings and beginnings..

Endings and beginnings… She was my salvation in the Winter of 1978.I gave up everything I believed in.I left a sweet love to fall into her arms.I fell deeper and deeper into dangerous… Continue reading →

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First words, last words..

First words, last words A Poem by Coyote PoetryWords can have great power. False words can brake a heart forever. Word of true love can make us desire the moon and the stars.                          … Continue reading →

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The shadows..

( I lost my dear sister Holly last year. She always worried about me and I do miss her.) The shadows.. A Poem by Coyote Poetry  We can’t escape the bad or the good… Continue reading →

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Black laced pen..

Blood laced pen.. Fight or flee? love or hate? stay or go? Laugh or cry? I wonder what Hemingway remembered in his last moment. Did he remember war or the face of Agnes?… Continue reading →

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Lady Mischief..

Lady mischief… The Coyote told the falling Sun, the rising moon. I need less hard days, I need more easy day, cooler nights. I want deep and soulful jazz, the long river near… Continue reading →

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