Wilful Chilling

Peacock Poetry

Most of us know that relaxing and letting go are the key to feeling happier and more present. What is more challenging is knowing how to enter this state at will. As I pondered on the letting go I began to realise how subtle and divine an act it is.


You cannot make yourself let go

Can’t force into release

There is no effort in the flow

Can’t orchestrate deep peace

There is no action in ‘allow’

However hard you try

There’ll be no sweat upon your brow

Yet with relief you’ll sigh

For yielding is a subtle shift

It starts with saying yes

To all those big old feeling gifts

That show up in the mess

The moment that your soul accepts

what’s vulnerable and tender

Is powerfully effortless

Inhabit your surrender

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The wisp/ the kiss, the memory. The Long island ice tea.


The wisp/the kiss, the memory. The Long Island ice tea.

A Chapter by Coyote Poetry
"A new series of short poetry. Part one." 

            The wisp/ the kiss, the memory…

The Long Island ice tea. He had traveled 1500 miles to see her face and he went to her home. He waited for her and he saw a baby girl dancing with his beloved. He saw she wasn’t alone. A young man came to her and he embraced her. He knew, he was the dummy who loved war, song and the highway. Soft tears fell from his face and he drove away. She turned and she saw him. He gave her a small wave and he drove to Ann Arbor. Her saw a great sadness in her eyes and he knew. He wouldn’t never see her again, kiss those rosy lip and put his…

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The wisp/ the kiss, the memory- The jest of love


The wisp/ the kiss, the memory- Jest of love

A Chapter by Coyote Poetry
"Third and last chapter."   

                The wisp/ the kiss, the memory- Jest of love

Beth laid her head in his chest and he caressed her strong back and shoulders. He smelled her hair. She was a complete woman now. Once a slim, faceless girl afraid. Now a robust, beautiful and strong woman. He asked her. Are you swimming still Beth? You look amazing. Your legs and arms. Are solid and strong. She smiled and she asked him. Remember you made me go to the gym with you everyday. You made me eat three meals a-day and you bought me every book I wanted to read. I remember you would swim twenty laps daily and now I can swim 40 laps. When I was afraid, I slept in…

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Bacchus wine and beautiful ladies…


Bacchus wine and beautiful ladies…

Once I was free, once I didn’t slumber in living.

I remember the sea, I remember barely dressed women dancing for the Pacific.

The rhyme and song of a poet’s pen,

are curvy women, Bacchus wine and lover’s chatter till the morning light.

The sweetest days are, sharing coffee with a beloved,

holding hands and sharing dream watching the morning sun come alive.

Once I weaved sweet dreams, longed for the sea, loved the never-ending kisses.

My war-torn soul was lost somewhere,

now I dream of perfect lady whispering to me,

come hither, come closer, please dance with me.

Please Johnnie, come to the Monterey pier,

I am waiting for you with the Hemingway ghost.

My beloved, let’s dance for the midnight moons,

please awake your quiet mind and find the place where the Bacchus wine was splentiful

and youth was our wealth.

One day,

I will…

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