Coyote spirit


The Pacific

The Pacific

A California coyote.

A California coyote.

Fault line of California.

Fault line of California.

Coyote spirit

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

"

Last dream is freedom. When it is gone. What is left.

"

Coyote spirit

(In Native American Myth. The Coyote was the joker. Laugh at life and held no fear.)

Beautiful Lady dressed in a black dress.
Blue eyes like a clear river.
Holding the talisman in her hands
Against her heart.
Her red hair blowing in the Seaside breeze.

Whisper run Coyote run.
She put the talisman around my neck.

I’m being strangle by so many rules.
I can’t find my way back.
I got lost on my journey.

My lady Shaman brings me close.
We danced upon the empty beach.
She felt my disease.

She told me.
“You are black in spirit.
The Coyote spirit must run free.”

The Coyotes were my friend.
Few of us are still roaming.
I yearn to find my lost comrades.

To run with the wind.
Break down the paper-thin wall of bullshit
Surrounding my life.

Be free.
Howl and yell at the moon.

When your dreams die.
We are just waiting for death to free us.

My blue eye friend.
I held her tight.
I smelled strawberry in her hair.
The cold of the California night.
Brought us closer together.

She gave me long and sweet kisses.
Maneuvered her body around.
Lifted her dress.
Wrapped her legs around me.

Her eyes looked deep into my soul.

She whispered.
“You are blinded by naysayers and storytellers.
You can’t see beyond this day.
Your hope has disperse into the wind.
Don’t wait for Death.
He will come soon enough.”

We fell asleep on the beach.
The ocean song brought a peaceful sleep.

I dreamed.
I’m running with the Coyotes.
I’m dancing and howling at the moon.
I’m swimming in joy.

The morning light appeared.
My woman of kindness.
Kissed me and told me goodby for a time.

She raised her hands to the sky and told me.
“Be free.
Don’t be a dog on a chain.
Brake the chain of disappointment.
Don’t be afraid of what is in front of your life.  “

I watched my protector, my friend and lover
drive away.

I looked at the sun, the ocean.
I thank the lord of life and death for her and the new chance.

I hear the Coyotes.
They are calling out my name.
Telling me to attack life-like a wild beast.

Eat flesh, taste the blood.
Allow it to penetrate the heart and soul.

Be strong.
Die for a  worthwhile battle.

Not like cattle.
Being led to the slaughter.

The Coyote can’t be tamed.

Us human are being led to the slaughterhouses
by wealthy and powerful men.

Escape.

Run with the wild beast.

Coyote
May 2009

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