Tag Archive: John Castellenas

November thoughts

   November thoughts Once I needed everything and I learned. Everything wasn’t needed. November is coming and the cooler and slower days I do love. I am in the November of my life.… Continue reading

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“If I had magic”

If I had magic Johnnie walked the California Fault line alone. Looking for a ancient and holy place. The desert mountain hard and her natural beauty. Perfect place to hide wishing wells and… Continue reading

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“My Winter love”

My Winter love A Poem by Coyote Poetry Cold days seem to bring people closer. My Winter love.     I whispered your sweet name in the twilight of the midnight hours. My sweet… Continue reading

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“Silence”

Silence We fall together into the midnight hours and we allowed the silence of the long night to hold deep embrace. Old lovers like us, don’t need words. We need tender caress and… Continue reading

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“The rising sun”

The rising sun I sat in the New Orleans in 1996. I liked New Orleans. Hard time and hard days couldn’t kill her spirit. I drank whiskey with old men and pretty women.… Continue reading

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October

  Dear October Hello dear October, my old friend. Cooler day and the beauty of the change of color, of the trees. Allow us to slow down and ponder who we are, where… Continue reading

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“The Raven and the Coyote”

The Raven and the Coyote A Story by Coyote Poetry A story. Some of my Ojibwa heritage coming out.                              The Raven and the Coyote The Raven watched the moon. Her interest awoken by… Continue reading

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The utopia of the pen and the paper

Utopia of the pen and the paper. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Last freedom is the mind. Can’t control the mind completely. Always hope hiding somewhere.                               Utopia of the pen and the paper.… Continue reading

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No mercy

No mercy dear Elizabeth   She found me alone by the St Clair lake and she wore a silky red dress. I saw her from a distance and I watched her walk quickly… Continue reading

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I want to dance with you tonight

(Easy life and quiet death-Sir Walter Scott) (We poets in our youth  begin with gladness; but there off in the end despondency and madness- Wordsworth) I want to dance with you tonight Sober… Continue reading

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