You are my Springtime.
You are my Springtime. (Johnnie need a warm day. So, I will write a Spring poem.) Cold days and colder nights, heavy clothing burden, I shall forget. You stand in the April sun,… Continue reading
Tag Archive: John Castellenas
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Passing through.
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
I will remember you.
I will remember you. 1- We touched like lovers once. We needed to hold hands like lovers do. Softly I held your hands and our fingers dance into a perfect waltz. Interlacing, moving… Continue reading
Pretty Jen.
Pretty Jen. Was I running toward you or running from you? You were so damn pretty and so confused. I loved you once, in 1986 and we were just babies. We try to… Continue reading
We shall live and we will know tears and laughter.
We shall live, we will know tears and laughter. Hello January, the cold Winter is here in Michigan.I am far-away from where I belong.Once, Winter was the days of writing and new dreams.… Continue reading
The unknown story.
The untold story. I have worn a necklace of pig skin rope and white crystal for 35 years. My most prize thing I keep now, upon my neck. Once a celestial beauty, we… Continue reading
We danced for the stars.
We danced for the stars . Was a Texas hot summer night and you wore your black dress and dancing shoes. I was drinking the Long Island teas since 6 pm and you arrived… Continue reading
Sins of our father.
(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
Dear Florence.
I took the midnight train to Florence, the days of Spring were coming to a ending. I loved the Germany Spring, and I needed dear Florence again. The city of Florence stole my… Continue reading
Dear Andea.
Dear Andrea. I remembered dear Andrea. A lovely Michigan gal once was kind to my young heart. I wrote into a notebook. “Time has pass us by, old wounds don’t hurt so badly.… Continue reading