Dreams don’t die. Can be heard by wise people in the gentle wind and never forgotten. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Can’t allow war to blind us from peace. Guns and hate will close… Continue reading
Sin is sin, till we partake. He told the pretty Irish girl, sin is sin till we partake in her sweetness. Then the sin becomes a part of us, we will accept willingly.… Continue reading
Two steps from hell. Part one. In a dark Gypsy carnival years ago. A beauty Gypsy woman told me once. You are two steps from hell. Hell is easy, seeking peace is the… Continue reading
The songs of the seasons. Warm days, cold nights.Create a restless passion.I can hear the whisper of the windon a solitary hill. Old Mother Nature is calling for aid.The water is sick with… Continue reading
The war, the blood and the gun. No-one is screaming for the child of war. They have known only blood and the sound of war. Who do we blame my friend? War is… Continue reading
Passing through. A poet and writer exchanging words and thoughts. The Coffee house poet told the writer. We can never win. Jack London once wrote. “The gods always win. Men believe they can… Continue reading
(My father in 1996. He died two months later.) Sins of our father’s. A Poem by Coyote PoetryWe can learn kindness from living and seeing hate and violence. Father’s eyes and anger…. Is my… Continue reading
A little mercy now. I know, I am fragments of what I was. Once loudmouth and crazy man. His eyes are heavy with sadness and memories. He told the falling sun. The mercy… Continue reading
Relish and relinquish A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Life is long and we must know what hold on to.” Relish… Continue reading
Petite mort. She was a portrait of beauty.Her love was locked away, waiting for the perfect man and the gentle embrace. She asked me. Was any kindness or good left in me? I… Continue reading
