A fieldtrip to New York—-The Chelsea hotel

The Chelsea hotel

A Poem by Coyote Poetry


I went to New York a few times. I stayed in the Park and wrote poetry in the day and drank in the dark taverns at night. I like the feel of the city.



                             The Chelsea hotel

Leonard Cohen words and song took me to the Chelsea motel before I arrived in the city of New York many times over. I yearn to find the places Cohen and Janis Joplin talks and drank. I have learn in my short life. No saint or angels in the New York city bars and you must want to be saved. To be saved.

I carried my writing journal, the Norton Anthology of English Literature (1942) and held my hot coffee. I sat in the park near the main fountain in the Summer of 1980. The old men were placing chess and many people were walking their dogs and didn’t pay attention to a lone man reading and writing. I started writing poetry waiting for the night to come.

I don’t need you

You are my sin, my killer, murdering of my heart.
I drank you like high class whiskey.
Enjoying the taste of your skin and savoring your kisses.

I remember your blue eyes.
Wanting more and more and you never finding fulfillment.
You devoured my body and mind.
Leaving me alone to built a prison of need.

Your appetite expanded.
You left me one cold Winter night to find the twisted places where people lose control and
can return. I didn’t fear the journey.  I knew the final ending. Disappointment.

I found you later. Wasted and used up. I went to you.
You told me. I don’t need you. I’m no-one and you were right.
You told me when you want everything. You will find only sadness and dead-ends.

I left a woman waiting. I didn’t return. Old graves or new graves.
The shallow graves leave us alone and wishing for better endings and places.


I went to the nearby Irish Pub. I ordered a whiskey of the bartender choice and a cold draft beer.  I watched the New Yorkers come into the Pub. I wasn’t seeking company or friendship. I wanted fragments of people near and to allow the old city to take me in. I have talked enough and I was seeking silence now. I begin to write.

Texas dreaming

Red hair girl with eyes of ocean blue asked me once.
Can you do a Texas two-step or not?
I told the beauty. My feet can dance if have good reasons.
She gave me a smile and told me. Us Texas girls can drink and dance.
Ain’t afraid of the night or the ending.
You are born once and you shall die once time.
Best to enjoy the middle and have some fun.

We danced to Willie and Hank.
She told me her name was Jenny. I told her my name is Johnnie.
She held me tightly and she made me smile.
We danced till closing time.
I told her getting late. Johnnie need to go home.

She licks her lips and she told me. Here in Texas. If you like something.
You best hold on tightly. Please stay with me and spend some time with me.

I told her. You are more beautiful woman I ever seen. I be honored to share time with you
my Jenny. Me and my Texas girl left to rewrite some new dreams.

Two New York woman sat near me. I believe more concern I wasn’t watching them and writing. I turned and I said hello. Both woman smiled and they returned the hello. They were New York beauties. Middle twenties, perfect hair and tight black dresses. Their bodies were young and tone. They laughs at me and asked. Are we pretty enough tonight for you. I told them.  Too pretty for my eyes and for words to express. They asked me why was I writing in the middle of the night?  I told them I was looking for reasons to write and maybe I will have a reason. They introduced themselves ad Diana and Sue. Two working college students. I told them I was a Soldier trying to find reasons to be alive in the city of New York. Sue asked me to write a poem for her. I asked about what? Diana told me. I want a poem about sin and mystery.

Lust know no boundaries or limitations.
The price of lust is costly.
The sinner will sin, The lovers will love.
Liar will  lie.
Sweet kisses lead to the fortune of lust.
Lusts don’t need names and can flourish in the midnight hours where deeds
are forgotten in the morning light.

Diana and Susie applause me with clapping their hands and They kissed me on the cheek and they told the bartender. Buy the word-man his whiskey and his beer.  Sue asked. Come with us tonight. We can show you something you can write about.
Coyote/John Castellenas