Everybody knows.
Everybody knows. (Everybody knows. Trickery and foolishness had led us to new place. Everybody knew we allowed a mad man to win. I hold no hatred for the Arabic people. They have been… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Jesus
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The sinner’s prayer.
The sinner’s prayer. My father believed, if he went to church on New Year eve. All sins would be forgiven. Father, old soldier, drinker and hell raiser. I pray, a place for men,… Continue reading
Mercy and forgiveness.
A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Need mercy and good friends to survive this life.” The Quality of Mercy The quality of mercy is not strain’d.It droppeth as the gentle rain from heavenUpon the place… Continue reading
Everything.
Everything A Poem by Coyote Poetry How much do we truly need? Everything. If I lost everything. Would I become afraid? We live in a time. Where needing more and more is the… Continue reading
The song of the seasons. An Ojibwa tale.
The songs of seasons A Story by Coyote Poetry A Native American tale. The song of fall Warm days, cold nights.Create a restless passion.I can hear the whisper of the windon a solitary… Continue reading
I don’t need you.
I don’t need you A Poem by Coyote Poetry “Words do have great power and strength.” I don’t need you. At the Purgatory Inn. Old men wisdom means little.Dead men wisdom is buried and… Continue reading
The gospel told by a common man. 2026 version.
The Gospel told by a common man A Poem by Coyote Poetry World is going crazy. USA need to reset our goals. Mask men roaming the USA create chaos. Why? The Gospel told by… 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
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
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