Category Archive: kindness

Big Sur, California. Chapter three

Big Sur, California. Highway 80 A Chapter by Coyote Poetry Third chapter.                      Big Sur, California. Highway 80              … Continue reading

Rate this:

Our world… Old world, new world.

Our world…Old world, new world. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Just words                Old world, new world Old world is gone. Our world is quiet. Today the streets… Continue reading

Rate this:

Play me the waltz of the angels…

(Please be kind to the people near. Scary times for the all of us. A phone call, leave a message and help if you can. Time for us to slow down. Talk, be… Continue reading

Rate this:

If it be your will…

If it be your will   I saw her sitting alone with a small child. Pretty auburn hair and hazel eyes. Soft tears were falling her eyes and I went to her.  I… Continue reading

Rate this:

Don’t give up.

  Don’t give-up I changed face, I changed cities and played the jester well. I believed the stories in the wind, I believed in the voices of the traitors who forsaken my generation.… Continue reading

Rate this:

The poet and the naked lady

 (Watch the videos. Amazing.) The poet and the naked lady I fell in love with a long legged woman, her eyes of never-ending questions and her flowing auburn hair stole my voice and… Continue reading

Rate this:

My kind friend, I remember.

    The last time I saw your face, my kind friend. I remember. When we are blessed with youth and vinegar. We don’t know. We have few mentors and people who shall… Continue reading

Rate this:

Hands of stone

Hands of stone A Poem by Coyote Poetry Love make our hands of stone, soft and tender to the people we love and care for. We must make time for the family. Be kind… Continue reading

Rate this:

“A safe place, a kind face, maybe?”

A safe place, a kind face, maybe? Someone told the loneliest lady in the bar. Johnnie wanted to die alone, with Jack Daniel and Jim Beam as his only friends. She stood behind… Continue reading

Rate this:

Blinded, but not dead yet

Blinded, but not dead yet. (Old poem from 6 July 1993. Must go to the bottom of the barrel to be able to see the light. Now I see chances to do good… Continue reading

Rate this: