Tag Archive: History

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We were young once..

We were young once… “We poets in our youth begin with gladness; But there off in the end despondency and madness.” Wordsworth “Soldiers rest! Thy warfare o’er, Dream of fighting fields no more:… Continue reading →

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Locked and loaded..

Locked and loaded A Poem by Coyote Poetry (War. What is it good for? Nothing.)                                       Locked and loaded.. The old Soldiers knows. The madness of youth was the temptation of sweet wine and… Continue reading →

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Stand up for the right things..

Stand up.. A Poem by Coyote Poetry  Quiet, peace, solitude and loneliness. Places and traces of what we were and are.  Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds.… Continue reading →

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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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Memorial Day poetry. A witness to life..

A witness to life… I left the Army in 2000. I wanted to see my kids grow-up. Good friends didn’t. Old wars didn’t effect me. I fought the quick and easy wars. Just… 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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My Wednesday prayer..

Peace will come, even if, only by one. Old man sat by the sea. He whispered a prayer, an old prayer repeated often in his lifetime. “Please God of the sea, please god… 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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My grandfather house..

My Grandfather house (First written on 14 March 1980- Rewritten 29 December 2015) Time has moved too quickly.I have growth from a small lad to a old man. I remember following you my… Continue reading →

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Locked and loaded..

Locked and loaded.. The old Soldiers knows. The madness of youth was the temptation of sweet wine and the fighting and dying for something worthwhile. It was their strength and their weakness. A… Continue reading →

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