The Poet


The Poet

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

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Good to be the word man. Good for the heart and soul to release thoughts to paper and pen.

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                        The Poet
Many moons ago in the city of Monterey, Ca
I create many friends at the many Poetry readings.
I would read three days a week in the evenings.
I led some and I was a reader/listener.
They honored me by calling me the Poet.
I believe the greatest honor is when someone who loved the word.
Honored you by calling you the street Poet.I learn many lessons from the old and new writers.
Good words I hold close and I tried to live by.

There are many ways to live and many ways to die.

We can choose to laugh, dance and celebrate each new day or
swim in the sorrow of hide and see misery and self-pity.

The old man wisdom is to embrace the good days and survive the bad days.

All of us will find death one day. A slow death or fast death. We must decide?

The coffee-house Poet and self prophet told the young writers. We will rise and
fall many times. You have more to gain than lose.

The words we use can gain value with time and living

Love/hate
Joy/sadness
kill/heal
Peace/war
Strong/weak
Begin/ending
Far/close
More/less
Words/silence

A million decisions to be made my kind friend.
We must be guided by ancient faces and places.
Unmask the false hope. Learn to live for what is true.

Life is to be lived. Sometime we must walk away from the past.
Find new places and friends and be born anew.

Live my friend. Death will come.
What truly matters is what we do in between life and death,

Better to had danced, sang and knew laughter than to had wished you did.

Coyote/John Castellenas

© 2013 Coyote Poetry

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