Category Archive: john coyote

Stripped to the bone….

Stripped to the bone…. I told her, I love the darkest things. I want a love so dark, my world turn purple/black. I don’t want sweet words, I want demanding words. I want… Continue reading

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Dear Belinda…

Dear Belinda… I learned life wasn’t fair, you can’t get what you want and love isn’t enough sometimes. I remember a beauty, prettiest girl I ever known. When I looked into her eyes,… Continue reading

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Be a flexible branch than the dead roots…

Be a flexible branch than the dead roots A Story by Coyote PoetryI learn the past is gone and today actions matter, by a New Orleans Tarot card reader.                             Be the flexible branch… Continue reading

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The Raven and the Coyote…

The Raven and the Coyote A Story by Coyote PoetryA story. Some of my Ojibwa heritage coming out.                              The Raven and the Coyote…. The Raven watched the moon. Her interest awoken by the… Continue reading

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Tattoos…

tattoos A Poem by Coyote PoetryOld stories become better with time.                               Tattoos… My pretty lady friend with tattoos on her back and legs. She asked me. Do you like my tattoos? I smiled… Continue reading

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The Chelsea hotel

The Chelsea hotel A Poem by Coyote PoetryI went to New York a few times. I stayed in the Central Park and wrote poetry in the day and drank in the dark taverns at… Continue reading

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The Fall sweet honey…

The Fall sweet honey A Poem by Coyote PoetryA re-write with comma and proper shape of thoughts. Fall sweet honey… Beautiful as the rising Summer sun,sweet and kind like the fresh Fall sweet honey.She… Continue reading

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Everyone is a river…

Everyone is a river A Poem by Coyote PoetryA poem, for new book, The Island.                                     Everyone is… Continue reading

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Lilac wine and a beautiful Lolli Wren song.

 Lilac wine —————————————————————————————–She whispered, maybe, maybe not. Let’s allow the lilac wine, to write the story for us. ——————————————————————————————- Life is many colors, we can paint her black, we can paint her red,… Continue reading

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Dead flowers… A beautiful Samantha song.

 Dead flowers —————————————————————————————————————————————- Once we tried to catch the wind. We loved the California fault line and the Pacific. She loved the black velvet whiskey and I loved her. I always brought her… Continue reading

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