jcastellenas-Coyote

Poetry, story and music.

writing

  • The sweetest things.

    The sweetest things. I have seen so many mysteries and seen so much beauty. I swam in the Pacific Ocean in the early spring storms. Riding my suicide board. I felt so free and helpless. I felt so small but safe. I stood at the Pinnacle on top of a mountain. I saw four states. The beauty of being… 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

  • The drinking song.

    The drinking song. Once I met Bukowski in California and he told me. Never truth a man, who never drinks.  I learn with old age. He was right. Drunk men or women will tell you the truth. Even if you don’t want to know. Now old age had stolen my energy and I keep doing… 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

  • 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

  • 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