jcastellenas-Coyote

Poetry, story and music.

family

  • Grandma hands.

    Grandma hands. Dear Grandma told me often. Life is like soup. Too many cooks in the kitchen and the soup won’t be tasty. Allow the real cook to do her work. Grandpa told me often. Leave your anger and disappointment outside. My home is a place to know love, have some good conversation and gather… Read more

  • The loveliest gal in Monterey.

    The loveliest gal in Monterey, she hated love and disliked men who begged for attention. I was the midnight poet and I would go to her shop in the mini-mall. I would bring coffee and sandwiches for her. I would read my poetry to her and she would ask me. You are my only friend… Read more

  • Sometimes we must loan and steal kisses.

    Sometimes we must loan and steal kisses. Beautiful lady arrived at the Austin’s tavern at twelve trying to escape the Texas Summer heat. Once she wanted everything and more, now she needs the Long Islands ice teas. She was a beauty and the men knew, she wanted the jazz songs and the silence. Every Friday… Read more

  • Lovely is.

    Lovely is. Lovely is the six am June sun kissing the sea. Lovely is when the warm sun, sun-kissing my face on a summer day. Lovely is the laughter of the children, singing and dancing near the sea. Lovely life is when two people become one, knowing love and gentleness. Lovely is the quiet of… Read more

  • Things lost, things found.

    Things lost, things found. My scattered memories reappear in wild dreams. I remember forgotten face, I remember forgotten places and I remember the last conversations with great people, I have known. Things lost, things found. Just building blocks of a life, the lessons making us wiser and stronger. Our dreams are where we gather a… Read more

  • The October days of my life.

    The October days of my life. Last dance for the Coyote. This morning, I saw an old face looking back at me in the mirror. My beard is gray and I have pain in my legs. Maybe the wild and free Coyote is no-more? I asked the Clinton River, did I do enough? I talked… Read more

  • For my brother.

    For my brother.. Child with your eye closed to living. How can I bring hope and sweetness to a life, where hope and dreams are long forgotten on your journey of living? Was I even a burden, for I didn’t see you encircled in lost dreams, forgotten goals. I didn’t know you were hiding and… Read more

  • Is it, everything you wanted?

    Is it, everything you wanted? Once I chased you from Germany to the land of Scotland. Once we were brave and once, we danced till the songs were done in dark taverns. Once we loved love and we tasted the sweetness of hope. Beautiful Sheena, is it, everything you wanted, this life we lived?Tonight I… Read more

  • Wildflowers dreams.

     Wildflowers dream      (For Brigitte) Young love, first love. Can expand too quickly. Leaving two people with no place to go. Love isn’t fair. Need the unities of two people living and dying for the want and need of love. The balance of love is held by the threads of tender words and a thousand kisses. … Read more

  • The song of the seasons. Ojibwa tale.

     The song of fall. Warm days, cold nights.Create a restless passion.I can hear the whisper of the windon a solitary hill. Old Mother Nature is calling for aid andthe water is sick with pollution.No great forest for the animals to live and roam.Poison is in the air.Killing man and the trees. The song of fall.… Read more