Isn’t no fucking good wars.
(Johnnie at Fort Ord, California. 1992.) Isn’t no fucking good war. A Poem by Coyote PoetryCan’t allow the hate and fear to overcome us. World been the same for a long time. Must dance… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Mental health
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Run with the wind, dance with the sea.
Don’t look at me with disappointment. Don’t look at me.Don’t give me those sad looks of disappointment.I don’t care what you see. I’m breaking down walls,I’m not afraid.Like you, a robot.Walking the walk… Continue reading
Dear Jennifer, I am coming home to you.
A love letter to Jennifer.(I love the young dust, the falling sun touching and kissing the lake. Create a afterglow of light and darkness. The world seems to be at-ease when the sun… Continue reading
Dying, lying and love.
Dying, lying and love. Last house near the lake. Was our place to rest. We were Gypsy hearts and Irish coffee mornings. We would find the quiet lake rarely, for we loved the… Continue reading
Scars, we do have. And a beautiful 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
Am I dead or alive. Old poetry needed today.
Am I dead or alive? A Poem by Coyote Poetry A old poem found. Written 1987.” Am I dead or alive? Describe emotion,describe love,describe pain. For every beautiful moment.Must there be pain also?… Continue reading
Mercy and kindness, we need.
The Quality of Mercy The quality of mercy is not strain’d.It droppeth as the gentle rain from heavenUpon the place beneath. It is twice blest:It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.‘Tis mightiest… Continue reading
First and last thoughts of each day.
1- Dreams.I could have touched every dream. My sweet dreams went fleeting away,when you did not love me anymore.I didn’t know you were my fountain of hope and my muse in dreams and… Continue reading
Brick, upon another brick.
Brick, upon another brick. Men, believe in his youth. Life is his to take. Young men believe life is now, just borrow and steal everything you can. Tomorrow may not come. He learns… Continue reading
Highway 80 West is calling my name.
Highway 80 West is calling my name.. A Poem by Coyote Poetry I’m tire of same places and faces. I need the road. Highway 80 West is calling my name. I’m tire, so… Continue reading