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Showing posts from February, 2011

throw your hands in the ay-er

twenty days til Spring can ya dig it? 
if i didn't need my hat i'd fling it twenty days
'til darlin' buds be springin' all up
 in neighborhoods but keep your boots on
 baby get ready
 for floods cuz mountains of snow make puddles of mud
Rene ~ February 2011

that's what sea said...

of milky white
springtime innocent 
valley splendors
i sing psalms

of moody indigo
lustful moon 
mountain carvings
i write sonnets

but it is for you, teacher
i thirst always 
for that poetic mouthful
as you come

back turned 'round
ready to leave
i am again

Rene Foran ~ February 2011

artifact ( it doesn't always end happily)

drinking coffee
from the mug
you left behind
though i choose to believe

in lieu of having 
there is the holding

Rene ~ 2013


(avid Wethey/NZPA/Assoated Press this is the hour of wonder a time where wait and see and hide and seek  cease to be games the streets are silent wrinkled brows speak volumes swing sets, steeples  and stomachs in knots
this is the eve of answers with dawn comes discovery sifting, sweeping, shifting  changes in view  everything we held  everything we believed to be always and iron shook loose in minutes in pieces
Rene ~ 2011
My prayers are with the people of New Zealand and for anyone who is struggling through difficult, sudden changes and choices in their lives.
This was a Magpie Tales submission click this sentence for more information.


fortune tumbles hits at the peak
and rolls down  weathered granite finding it's way
towards filling a need
naturally man made concrete  halts it's progress a dam that does not give
for safety's sake
that's the claim it makes
while down below
the thirsty, hopeful valley
eyes the sky and cries unlock, quench us  with what is fair and
what is right but this wall
does not stand to reason
peace - Rene


with her fingertips
she crossed a line
through his godly myths
and they fell easilycrumbling into sand
for that display he plucked outher ivory
a punishment
she surely would not stand

just renounce your faith
and this will all end!
he pleaded urgently
one by one
she spat out rubies

with angry arms
he gathered up
prepping her for sauté
she knelt down,
lit the fire,
and crawled in
you've no need to show me 
the way

Rene ~ February 2011

salt of gerasene

shake us
from this
exceedingly fierce
into the sea
take care
as we are legion
too many  to count

too mighty to pass we are the rubble caught
looking back
cast us not  over bread  nor shoulder
but rather
the backs of swine
may we drown
this unrelenting sorrow and finally  know peace
Rene ~ Febrauary 2011

Post or enjoy other Magpie Tales by clicking on this sentence.


here we are
stuck in between a spinning rock 
and a heavenly place
hanging on
doing the best with what we got
marking out our time in this space
all together
though the miles may separate us
we all feel that same sun on our face
we are the framebuilders of tomorrow
and the future we must embrace
and that...
peace wins
step by step together
looking out for and loving our neighbors
peace wins
peace wins
and that will always be the case

~ Rene February 2011
Photo by Sean McCormick
To learn more about Seanvisit his website:
To learn more about One Stop Poetry click this sentence.

Gardening with David Sedaris

I have been an abusive daughter. I have treated my mother just terribly.  I don't give her anything to drink or eat, I don't give a shit if she's crawling with infestation or even clean.
And I couldn't care less. Really. Her caretaking actually fills me with ennui.
It should be pointed out, that before you dial social services, I am talking about Mother Earth. 

And since I don't normally walk around saying Mother Earth, lest I get the "Oh God 360" eye roll... today, in this post, I am calling my yard, Mother.
Ya dig ?
Fortunately for Mother, a few sweet words from a friend have inspired me to spend some quality time with her.
Plus, my neighbors are all beginning to think I'm an asshole.
They're a little slow in that regard.
And despite all my big talk a moment ago, I really have been feeling twinges of guilt about the state I have let my mother fall into. Her hair is uncombed and full of pests. Her skin is dry and cracked.
She is an abomination.
"Daughter, …


green line
saturday afternoon
just me and a book until he spoke
well over the legal limit
two fingers above what would be considered
normal speaking volume
stranger on a train no danger just a conversation no, make that a performance no, make that a confession
just please... please listen to me

monologues of the lonely
verbal graffiti
Rene ~ February 2011

we'll be alright

we sit here, set apart
shunned by a world
carefully taught
put in our place

to them, the righteous
we have fallen from grace
our names, fables
synonymous with sin

at dinner tables
then beautifully written
on shards of clay

what a wicked,
malicious game
for grown-ups
to play

Rene ~ February 2011

Magpie Tales is celebrating it's one year Anniversary! Please celebrate by posting, or just enjoying the writing.

the astronaut's lover

silver white line
upon your thigh
i kiss your mouth
and taste the stars
the moon
has become my rival
Rene ~ February 2011

Peace Mail

Sometimes I just need to take a “time-out” from humans at some point in the day.

During lunch, instead of going to the staff room, which had become a nightmarish brew of burnt popcorn and the latest gastronomic atrocity from Lean Cuisine, I decided to sit in the church hall and read my book.
It’s quiet in there and it smells like incense and candles… Church-y
And it's a good place to get hid.

I settled in a cozy nook in the church hall with my book, enjoying the silence, until I heard the shuffling of Hush Puppies. The church ladies had arrived and were set to prepare some sort of mailing.

Church ladies are scarily organized when it comes to mass mailings, and they will talk smack about you after novena if you can't tri-fold a letter correctly.

There were four of them, about 118 years old apiece and dressed for JFK's inauguration, each of them taking a seat around a large work table.
Outfitted with wet sponge bottles, envelopes, letters and those rubber finger tip thingies,…

mamma sally

puttanesca tickles my nose
pulls me through 
these streets, eyes closed
Mamma Sally, she knows
how to fill my bowl

daughter of the old country
pulled up her roots
for the better life, the big city
Mamma Sally, she knows
how far the red brick goes

raising up tomatoes to the sky
from her window box piazza
seven stories high
Mamma Sally, she knows
how her garden grows

olive oil, garlic, basil in harmony
hymns of joy
the blessed holy trinity
Mamma Sally, she knows
how to save my soul

Rene ~ February 2011

Submitted for Magpie Tales #51 ~ Come join, write and enjoy!