The October days of my life.
The October days of my life. Last dance for the Coyote.. This morning, I saw a old face looking back at me in the mirror. My beard is gray and I have pain… Continue reading
Tag Archive: John Castellenas
Lestat’s coffee shop conversation.
Lestat’s coffee shop conversation. Was a quiet San Diego night. I read my poetry at a poetry reading next to the Lestat’s coffee shop. I read an old poem. ” Bitter branches Old men are like… Continue reading
The kind Spring and the warm summer days. And an amazing song by Meira.
Kind springs days and the warm Summer days Forget me not, forget me forever.Winters cold is gone and the kind Spring days are here. The cold Winter days made me drink the vodka… Continue reading
Gypsy soul. And a lovely 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
The masquerade.
The masquerade. Was a blue moon night in New Orleans and no-one wanted to show their real face. Beer, wine and liquor was plentiful. Women were exotic and the men were pirates and… Continue reading
Haunted places and haunted memories. And a lovely Mean Mary song.
Haunted places and haunted memories. I wear the white crystal you gave me in 1992. The necklace feels more heavy with time and distance. I learn in old age. When we are young,… Continue reading
Scars, we do have. And a lovely Alessia Cara song.
Scars, we do have. The saddest gal in Monterey asked me. You make me laugh when I want to cry, you make me smile when I want to disappear. You hold my hand,… Continue reading
A quiet dream.
1- You came to me in a kind dream. Your smile in full bloom and your eyes. As beautiful as a Sunday morning sun. 2- I found you by our lake in my… Continue reading
Luck and folly.
Luck and folly. I told the Wisconsin River. Thank you for this beautiful day. I watched beautiful Kathy dance on the rocks, allowing the river water to touch her feet. I told the… Continue reading
An August morning.
An August morning. The days of August are here. Kind earth is alive and the children want to run. The fire are burning and the grandfathers/ Grandmothers must become the story tellers. He… Continue reading