jcastellenas-Coyote

Poetry, story and music.

love

  • September. And an amazing song.

    September. I told her on a late September day in Germany. Old earth is going to sleep for a while, the days are getting colder and the days are getting shorter. Please Daniela, stay with me till the days of Fall and Winter is gone. In the cooler day of September and October, we learn… 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

  • I need a wild heart.

     I need a wild heart….                        1- Love made me live. Beautiful woman told me. We need to bathe in the quiet and sweetness of love.Love come when love wants.The movement of love is like a song.The rhythmically song take us to interlacing of hands, mouth and body.Let’s dance nude upon the balcony and allow… Read more

  • Sweet pleasures, rare delights.

    Sweet pleasure and rare delights. Sweet pleasure, rare delights.Some dreams should not be touched.They burn the heart till death allows you to escape. Beautiful woman dance in my memory.Sweet gifts from tender hearts held forever in my dreams. Yesterday I wouldn’t question the gift of love. Today the tender touches and memories of bodies wrapped around me.They… Read more

  • Softly we shall go.

    Softly we shall go. Softly we shall go, you and me. We had danced in many dangerous storms  and we wanted more. Baby sweet, honey, my love. We need more shoeless days, we need to hear the song of the sea. We need the morning sun on our face and more easy days. Softly we… Read more

  • I remember you.

    I remember you… 1- Once I knew you.. I was your Doc Holliday and you were my Kate. We knew the whiskey, the sin and the skin. Once we showed our scars and I wrote poetry on your pale skin. Now you create a self-made cell, your private prison. I hold you close and I… Read more

  • The pretty things, the dangerous things. And a lovely Marianne Faithfull song.

    The pretty thing, the dangerous things. Once I held treasure. We danced in the lost and found of seeking happiness. Once we were fearless and we knew laughter. We had Gypsy souls and we wanted the open road, kisses and good whiskey. I remember you intoxicated my mind, making me believe I could know happiness.… 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

  • The sea.

    The sea. The old poet told the young poets, old ladies and the kids. 1- Bit by bit, piece by piece. We are creating puzzles with our words. We must be kind to each other. Negative words can tear us apart. Maybe we should ask. Are you alright? What do you need? 2- I told… Read more

  • Almost love in California.

    (John and Jennifer in Monterey in 1992.) Almost love in California. I was your Hemingway and you were my Agnes. We were free falling into a love that could never be. I wanted you forever and you wanted to be okay. A soldier love, held on by a whisper and a wish. I brought you… Read more