jcastellenas-Coyote

Poetry, story and music.

  • Forget me not.

    Forget me not  I dreamed of you, I dreams of us.I picked-up the phone.I was dreaming of your face, your voice, sweet like the German Summer wine.I dreamed of your long legs and I dreams of your lips upon my lips. I don’t dial the phone and I told the darkness.Dear Ambrosia, why did you… Read more

  • Wanderlust.

    Wanderlust 1- Damn those eyes Pretty face, demanding loving eyes,soft voice making me feel weak and captured,soft touch of hands making me fall into deep embrace.Those eyes make me swim in the dangerous river of hope. Damn those eyes. Those eyes make me want to know wanderlust and forget where I was going.I want to… Read more

  • She was a dancer.

    She was a dancer… She was a dancer and I was the Monterey Irish Pub drunk. She could paint the sea, she could paint the forest, and she could paint beautiful faces and beautiful places with her delicate hands. She sought laughter and the kind people. I was the bar-room poet, the sea seeker and I… Read more

  • I hope your days be bright and love will be near you always.

    I hope your days be bright and love will be near you always.. She was the Gypsy girl, Monterey Bay dancer. She would gather her friends, and they would find the sea. They would sing and dance for the falling sun and the rising moon. I was lucky. Dear Maria, befriended me and she taught… Read more

  • Scars, we do have.

    Scars, we do have.. The saddest gal in Monterey asked me. You make me laugh when I want to cry, you make me smile when I want to disappear. You hold my hand, read and edit my work. You demand nothing from me. You laugh at my anger and you buy me a caramel apples… Read more

  • Love is like a flower garden.

    Love is like a flower garden. Once we danced in tropical clubs hidden in the dark corners of tropics, we lavished in a love without fear of boundaries and distance. You open new doors for a blind man living for nothing and trying to find a quick death on a futile road leading to no-were.… Read more

  • Last bus going to the sea.

    Last bus going toward the sea.. 1- I traveled 1500 miles toward the Florida sea. It was the last bus to the ocean. I was reaching for a miracle, I was dreaming of a beautiful face. She found me waiting for her at the Big Boy in the city West Palm beach. She came to… Read more

  • Poetry prompts.

    1- You came to me in a kind dream. Your smile in full bloom and your eyes. As beautiful as a Sunday morning sun. 2- I found you by our lake in my dream. We were just holding hands and not needing words. I remembered, sometime silence is all we needed. 3- You found me… Read more

  • Write and bleed.

    Four lines poems. A Poem by Coyote PoetryTaking chances, writing in different directions. 1- We were naked, we twisted our bodies into a unfinished puzzle and we shared wild dreams. We talked and we used twisted words. Did we show real face, did we do, just enough? 2- We knew thirst, we pledged broken promises and… Read more

  • We were young once.

    We were young once. “We poets in our youth begin with gladness; But there off in the end despondency and madness.”Wordsworth “Soldiers rest! Thy warfare o’er, Dream of fighting fields no more: sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, morn of toil, nor nights of waking.”Sir Walter Scott” Easy life and quiet death.”Sir Walter Scott… Read more