Hey brother, hey sister. Almost time to vote.
Hey brother, hey sister.. ( In the Army. There is no color, there is no race. Every soldier is a brother. Election is tomorrow. Men who create hate and separation. We do not… Continue reading
Hey brother, hey sister.. ( In the Army. There is no color, there is no race. Every soldier is a brother. Election is tomorrow. Men who create hate and separation. We do not… Continue reading
The war, the blood and the guns… No-one is screaming for the child of war. They have known only blood and the sound of war.Who do we blame my friend?War is alive my… Continue reading
Russian roulette.. Beautiful young women dances on a stage on the border of Austin.Moving with the movement like a butterfly in the breeze.Holding the attention of the men holding tight to good whiskey and gin. A religion man… Continue reading
The lost generation. Part two Tonight I drink my whiskey. Gentleman Jack had become my favorite. I dreamed again last night about a soldier. I said before. I do believe in reincarnation. The… Continue reading
The missing pieces A Poem by Coyote PoetryFragrance of what we were do appear. I looked into the mirror. The once warrior had become the house plant. This is sad. … Continue reading
The last man standing A Poem by Coyote PoetryNot a happy story. A story to create logic and questions my friend. The last person standing… Last person standing…. (Will the last man… Continue reading
The Lost Generation.. Part one. I was dream-writing again tonight. I believe in reincarnation. I believe I have lived many lives and I was a soldier in every one. I was told by… Continue reading
We were just Men and Woman… 20 soldiers sat and waiting in a room .The education of War written deep in their brains and hearts. Their souls became polluted with word kill, protect… Continue reading
(Locked and loadedA Poem by Coyote PoetryWar. What is it good for? Nothing.”) Locked and loadedThe old Soldiers knows. The madness of youth was the temptation of sweet wine and the fighting and… Continue reading