Tag Archive: John Castellenas

Some mini poems for Tuesday.. Chain, chain, chain.

Prettiest gal I ever known walked to the door, dead bolted the door tightly, and she whispered. Sometimes, you cannot run. ————————————————————————————- I didn’t know true love till she touched my feet. She… Continue reading

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The waltz..

The Waltz A Poem by Coyote PoetryThe ocean and love create emotions and passion that stay with us forever.” The waltz  (Was publish in small press, many moon ago.) We were doing a waltz… Continue reading

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You are my music..

You are my music… We found love in the lost and found. You are the most beautiful gal in the world. I remember your smile, I remember your laughter. I painted your skin… Continue reading

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Don’t ask for less…

Don’t ask for less A Poem by Coyote Poetry  When the night is sweet, the love is generous and kind. Always ask for more. One day, you shall wish you did.  Don’t ask for… Continue reading

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The poet, the dancer and the artist..

The poet, the dancer and the artist. A Story by Coyote Poetry  We need the great lakes, we need good friends near and we need good conversation.               … Continue reading

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Dance me to the end of love. Some min-poetry.

Dance me to the end of love… 1- We shall pay the midnight toll, where the sin, the gin and the skin always needs more. Where strangers begin friends, where friends become strangers.… Continue reading

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Love you more… Some mini-poetry.

Love you more… 1- The moonlight kissed her skin and the stars adored her barefoot and barely cloth body.  She danced with the ocean and she sang to the goddess of the sea.… Continue reading

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I hope that I don’t fall in love with you..

I hope, I don’t fall in love with you. I found her sitting alone on the sand at the Seaside beach. You held your whiskey tightly and you wanted to be alone. I… Continue reading

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I was Doc Holiday and you were my Austin gal..

I was Doc Holiday and you were my Texas gal… “Doc Holliday prayer… I pray I die with a gun in my hand, I pray I die with a pretty Texas dancing gal… Continue reading

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Remembering Phil Ochs. The war is over. SOS.

SOS.. 1- When a poet cries, he cried alone. He write his tears to paper and allow them to be settle into a journal. Sometime madness can find us and we forget to… Continue reading

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