“Trying to lose your memory”

Trying to lose your memory A Poem by Coyote Poetry Old poetry written in 1992                        Trying to lose your memory I tried to find peace and calm in the coffee houses of… Continue reading

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“Bare and true”

Bare and true A Poem by Coyote Poetry Few times in a life. We open up to another and show them the real person.    Bare and true She was a noble beauty… Continue reading

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Solace Comes

Originally posted on No Talent For Certainty:
Then solace comes, in dreams of cooler weather, When autumn’s voice will free the captive heart, The music of what can be done, together, The silence…

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“On the thread of a word”

On the thread of a word A Poem by Coyote Poetry Been a while. A new poem.                               On the thread of a word (Freedom is only the distance between the hunter and… Continue reading

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“Around and around we go”

Around and around we go. A Poem by Coyote Poetry Life is chance and opportunity. Better to be kind and hope for a good ending.                       Around and around we go. Around and… Continue reading

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‘Hands of stone”

Hands of stone A Poem by Coyote Poetry Love make our hands of rock, soft and tender to the people we love and care for                                   Hands of stone Life is hard. Gentleness… Continue reading

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Poetic Translations: From the Aphorisms of Søren Kierkegaard

Originally posted on The Consolations of Writing:
What is a poet? An unhappy man who deep in his heart hides anguish, but whose lips are so comprised that when he screams he makes…

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Damn those eyes

Damn those eyes A Poem by Coyote Poetry Poem for a story                         Damn those eyes My life had no beginning, no ending till I saw you. You were so beautiful. You made… Continue reading

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“I called your name”

I called your name Beautiful lady is weeping for me. I departed for unknown destination. I didn’t know. First tears will take us to weight-full memories and places amidst lonely descended wants and… Continue reading

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Wanderlust

Originally posted on The Paths of the Spirit:
I have always felt like a migratory bird in September – Helplessly consumed By an inscrutable pull Driving me to throw myself Into flights across…

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