Last bus going to the sea. And amazing music.
Last bus going toward the sea.. 1- I traveled 1500 miles toward the Florida sea. It was the last bus to the ocean. I was reaching for a miracle, I was dreaming of… Continue reading
Tag Archive: John Castellenas
A memory, a story remembered.
A memory, a story remembered. 1- Everything. In the stillness of the night,you held me, so tightly. You were my 2 am lover and my midnight dancer.Your kiss was the sweetest breathe given… Continue reading
Gypsy soul. And a beautiful Ayla Schafer song.
Gypsy soul Once, I walked in the clouds, The highest Honduras mountains, I stood upon. I was a free man. Once, I danced with the Pacific, the Winter storms taught me. We are… Continue reading
Dear Sheena and an amazing Scottish song.
(April is poetry month. New poetry number twenty-nine.) Dear Sheena Once upon a time, I danced with a Scottish beauty. Gentle voice, lovely accent, I adored. We learn to know love and I… Continue reading
A Spring Day. We need.
(April is poetry month. Mew poetry number twenty-eight.) A Spring Day. We need. 1- Careless words, careless thoughts. They can make us blind to the truth. 2- Like this, she told me. Take… Continue reading
A naked woman.
A naked woman A Poem by Coyote Poetry A naked woman (A wise artist once said. To see a nude woman is more wonderful then 1000 beautiful paintings… Continue reading
Love and hate.
Love and hate. Sitting by the Monterey Bay alone.Thinking about a missed woman.I made a wish.It wasn’t the first star,but I made the wish anyway. Stars so very bright, so many I can’t… Continue reading
Sweet Peggy.
Sweet Peggy. She is sitting alone in the warm Florida’s evenings. She is raw, sexy and like a wild cat in the tropics. She is hungry, desperate and passionate. Her dreams are confused,… Continue reading
Sin, gin and skin.
(April is poetry month. New poetry number twenty-eight.) Sin, gin and skin. The bar poet, the bar storyteller told stories to the desperate people. He told them, we will have rainy days and… Continue reading
Walking in the graveyard. Ghost whispering to me. A amazing song.
(April is poetry month. New poetry number twenty-seven..) Walking in the graveyard. Ghost whispering secrets to me. 1- The dead do not talk no-more. If you listen well. You can hear whispering of… Continue reading