Like father.
Like Father… A Poem by Coyote Poetry Do we become our parent? Do we follow their footsteps. Like father. My father, like most men. He learned to hide is sadness and disappointment. He… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Writing
Jenny wrote.
Jenny wrote. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Words can be magic, can be visions of beauty and can make us dream. Jenny wrote. Painted words are what the writer understands. Wisp and grasps… Continue reading
Show me the way to love.
Show me the way to love. (Photo of my Daniela in 1978 and my first published poem somewhere. Written in 1979.) A Poem by Coyote PoetryA poem written in 1979. Being young and hopeful… Continue reading
Pretty Peggy. The last dance.
Pretty Peggy. Once I chased you and all I wanted was a kiss, a dance. I told you often, you were the most beautiful girl in my world. We tried to find love… Continue reading
The daylight fading.
The daylight fading. Once the kindest woman in Texas weaved me a safe place to be. Dearest Jayne used to hold me tightly and she sang songs of love to me late into… Continue reading
Already broken. A Tela, an Honduras story.
Already broken. Oldest and most tire man in Michigan escaped to find something lost. He remembers an Auburn hair with a silky voice, the whiskey nights and the Soldier’s liar prayer. He gave… Continue reading
Don’t give up. And an outstanding song by Willie and Sinéad O’Connor.
Don’t give-up. I changed face, I changed cities and played the jester well. I believed the stories in the wind; I believed in the voices of the traitors who forsaken my generation. I… Continue reading
Dear Molly Malone.
“Sweet Molly, Sweet Molly Malone I can see if you smile, Though I’m off half a mile, For my eyes all the while, Keep along with my head, And my head on must know, When from Molly… Continue reading
Stand up for the right things.
Stand up for the right things. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Quiet, peace, solitude and loneliness. Places and traces of what we were and are. Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners… Continue reading
My muse.
My muse. You are love and I’m no-one. You came to me with haunting words awakening the want of love, dance and song. Your gentle voice awoke my dying spirit. Your kind words… Continue reading