Category Archive: activism and peace work

The animal… Written in 1984….

( Johnnie Coyote in 1995 in Monterey.) The animal. A Poem by Coyote PoetryWho is the real loser in a war? Is there a winner? The prisoners may seem weak and controlled.   Their hope… Continue reading

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Peace….

(My adopted children in Honduras 1997. All adults and standing strong.) Peace A Poem by Coyote PoetryWritten in 1980. Hope for peace had chance then. What happen to the dream? Peace…       (A old… Continue reading

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The whore bath…

The whore bath A Poem by Coyote PoetrySometime we must listen, think and make wise decisions. More liars than kind people running our world. The whore bath….  Large shining teeth, an large man with loud… Continue reading

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Indigenous people day poem- Oct. eleven.

Wisdom of the Medicine wheel….   I have been  lucky.  Many kind Native Americans took me under their wing and taught me how to find peace. At the Mall I went to the so-call… Continue reading

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The sweetest things…

The sweetest things A Poem by Coyote PoetryLife is simple. Respect people. Religion should be private. Stay positive. The sweetest thing… I have seen so many mysteries and  seen so much beauty. I swam  in… Continue reading

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The last man standing…

The last man standing A Poem by Coyote PoetryNot a happy story. A story to create logic and questions my friend.                                The last man standing…   Last person standing…. (Will the last man… Continue reading

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Phil Ochs- a man of peace

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If I was the king of the forest… Written in 1978.

IF I was the king of the forest. A Poem by Coyote PoetryOld memories and old dreams.                        If I was the King of the Forest….. American Soldiers drinking with boisterous and loud German… Continue reading

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Like a river and some quotes.

My grandfather told me. What we didn’t do. Haunt our life and dreams…….. ———A happy life is making time for morning coffee talk, long walks on a quiet beach, dancing with someone you… Continue reading

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Imagine there no war, no violence

Dear child     The world weeps blood. Whole world blinded by hate and separation. Who will tell the child? He was born with no chance or opportunity. Born to learn to survive… Continue reading

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