Leave the light on.
Leave the light on. Been one year now. We said goodbye on a cold Winter day and I remember I told you. I will leave the light on, my love. You have a… Continue reading
Tag Archive: John Castellenas
Wishful heart.
Wishful hearts. I told the pretty Gypsy gal at the Stray Cat Inn. Love never befriended me. I sought the wild sea; I sought the sea dancer. And I learn. Love isn’t understandable… Continue reading
The reaper.
The reaper. I have played hide and see with the reaper and the fucking reaper found me in Downtown Austin, Texas. She was a pretty gal with a voice of gold. She told… Continue reading
The Poet’s heart.
(The poet wrote to paper. Where are you my love, sweet. He told the morning sky, do you remember? I promised you a summer waltz near the sea and I am waiting for… Continue reading
Payment due my friend.
Payment due my friend. I sat daily by the Lake St. Clair lake. I watched the boats go by and I wrote and read. I drank coffee and I fell into Jack London,… Continue reading
Keep you.
Keep you. I remember the day you saved me.Your gentle eyes of hazel green saw me andyou caressed my face with your soft hands, and you told me.Been too long dear Johnnie and… Continue reading
Wanderlust. And a lovely Miriam Baghdassarian song.
Wanderlust… — Damn those eyes. Pretty face, demanding loving eyes.Soft voice making me feel weak and captured.Soft touch of hands making me fall into deep embrace.Those eyes make me swim in the dangerous… Continue reading
Wildflowers dreams.
Wildflower dreams. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Some memories are held forever. Wildflower dreams. I sit among the wildflowers.Growing where they desire and free.The sweet sense of the wildflowers takes me back to… Continue reading
I want to know you.
I want to know you. Invisible whispers and silence photos they give me remnants of who you are. Do you know me? I believe woman are more layered than men. Rarely does a… Continue reading
Hello again.
Hello again. For my dearest Peggy. I have learn to love the darkness of the taverns and the Jazz clubs,where the people with nothing to hide, can go.Old men and old women tell… Continue reading