Damn the ancient Gods.
Damn the ancient Gods. Pretty lady laid bare in heart and soul watching the sun fall into the sea.She looked at me and told me. Damn the gods who hate love, they tried… Continue reading
Tag Archive: God
I hate you, War.
I hate you, War Dear grandchild. I’m so sorry. I left you just blood and hate. My father left me Vietnam, and I left you in a world swimming in red blood of… Continue reading
Life is sweet, death is sweeter.
Life is sweet, death is sweeter. (When you lose your brothers to suicide. So many questions shall never be answered.) Child with your eye closed to living. How can I bring hope and… Continue reading
The word man.
Many years ago. In 1991 to 1993. I would read my poetry on the coastline of California. I had some fans too. Old woman and young girls. They called me the word man. I carry a… Continue reading
Dreams don’t die. Can be heard by wise people in the gentle wind.
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
Peace, maybe a prayer. An old prayer.
Peace A Poem by Coyote Poetry Written in 1980. Hope for peace had a chance then. What happen to the dream? Peace. (An old poem written when age was my advantage.)I went to… Continue reading
Something shouldn’t be beheld or touched. And a lovely Mahafsoun dancing.
Somethings shouldn’t beheld or touched. You have taunted my dreams and made me wish for sordid and frenzy nights, captured in your embrace.I want to fall into the inferno of your warm kisses… Continue reading
The darkest days.
The darkest days (Johnnie returned to Big Sur, older and grayer.) Winter of 1992 is holding on and I’m hiding out on Highway one. I brought the vodka and pineapple juice to Big… Continue reading
One tine soldier.
One Tin soldier. I have become a vulgar man. Once I had a young heart. Love didn’t darken my heart; love didn’t darken my mind. Life did. He told the mirror in the… Continue reading
Sin is sin, till we partake.
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