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Showing posts from November, 2012

yeah, whatever

i could write a book or a

bleed the worlds
across my  coffee table

sticky scribblings tattoo banana skins

will you call
or am i  "it" again

you chase me
i chase you
you tease me
i kiss you
we fall down
you say  you still love her
i get up

i could  kick your ass
or rub
your back forever

you annoy
with all your  guilty pleasures

i'd like to  flick you
just like a

but then I'd sneak around
and light you
up again

you chase me
i chase you
you tease me
i kiss you
we fall down
you say  you still  love her
i give up

Rene ~ 2013

For 1oo Word Song
This weeks song is "Are You Experienced?"
Some days it can leave you feeling not necessarily stoned, but beautiful
And then other days not necessarily alone, but lonely


I always said
I'd wait for you
til the cows came home

a problem
since I live nowhere
near a farm

and seldom is heard
an E I E I O
outside of PS 152

yet here I sit
for years
forever and a Tuesday

through radio days
and long distance nights
I am your eternal Gibraltar

your faithful
winged backed
rude world blinder

in time I may go
but today, like every day
I stand guard, ready to serve

as Gershwin melodies
crumble through windows
and walls turn to clay

Rene ~ 2013

For Magpie Tales

november lace

It was nearly 90 degrees in that cozy little kitchen the smell of home cooking had attached itself to every molecule of every acrylic holiday sweater her every effort to help prepare the feast was waved off and redirected to the family room where a stony, silent, football viewing Mt Rushmore occupied the couch, a loveseat, and three folding chairs

she wandered down  to the basement where she was years removed from the circle and miles behind the conversation so she drifted along searching where was her world? where was her piece? where did she belong?

she slipped away  from the fray
unnoticed up to her childhood room through the bedroom window and onto the rooftop poetic:
" she sat arms hugging knees surveying life, the leafless trees spindly branches claw the sky
scratching for sun, to heaven they cry
psalms of wisdom, strength and grace woven in November lace"
the air felt good against her flushed cheeks and a beautiful sunset was now in progress she was thankful for this she was thankful for finding her pe…


prepareye, all from the way
of the storm

batten down them hatches loosed hell's about
to be born

from butchers,
from bakers
from rosary  shakers

your children's
sand kingdoms
are ripe for the taking

no neck is safe
stretchin' high above
the ruled

their wind,
a wolf's call
soothin' sheep easily fooled

prepare ye, citizens
read true intentions well
keep your wits aimed
and ready
on the pantry shelf

Rene ~ November 2012
For Magpie Tales

Image ( via Magpie Tales)
Andrew Wyeth, Squall, 1986

time and patience

sensibility shaken
hope is gelatinous

time a river
of sand

i want to punch
through dimensions
like rice paper
and cover us

growing inside
of me - you

this time

I wait with joy
full of grace

a warrior
of the good fight
to name a love
to kiss a life

“The strongest of all warriors are these two — Time and Patience.”
― Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

Rene ~ November 12, 2013

for Magpie Tales

derelict love

derelict love
rise above the
lust of broken
wings to mend you
pretend all's well
split seam hell spills
no tell secrets
across jet-stream
vignette postcards
from your heart to
the hard of flight
to hold tight reign
*on a love insane

Rene ~ November 8, 2012

For d'Verse Poets
FormForAll-Than Bauk

The Than Bauk is a climbing rhyme
of Burmese origin

your rail pass

you wake meand steal me up
to the railroad tracks
our feet sending silver litavalanches of gravel tumbling down as we climb
holding hands
rails running  well rehearsed lines beneath our feet
the moon tunnels under covers you kiss me alive

Rene ~ 2013


it doesn't matter
what you say
what you think of

i own my truths
and my lies
with steely eyed

it doesn't matter
that my body
is not perfect for

every fold
a triumphant valley
every scar
a sacred highway

i doesn't matter
that you leave me
between hard places

i know my territory
i don't wish for
more beyond

it does not matter
if i never
see you

i will be grateful
our paths crossed
and i'll wish you well
my friend

Rene ~ November 3, 2012

Fireblossom has the Real Toads channelling our inner opposite to write poems that do NOT reflect our true feelings.

Link up and tell everyone like it's not.

This is also a d'Verse Poets photo prompt submission

Image ( via d'Verse Poets) credited to SueAnn

pinkies up

The thing I remember most about Esme was that amidst her thrift store furnishings she had one of those French provincial type telephones. The kind that Elizabeth Taylor had in Butterfield 8.

 She'd say that all the time too, most likely while fingering a crumb of Captain's Wafer out of her cleavage and delicately placing it in her mouth like Beluga caviar...
 "Same fuckin' phone as was in da movie."

Esme's world was a gyre of Paul Klee paintings, Popular Club pantsuits with Hermes scarves, teak tv trays, and Taster's Choice Instant Coffee. "Honey, just put in a splash of half and half and then a spoonful of Cremora...Tastes just the same and you'll save on the cream."
On Sundays, we'd watch Masterpiece Theatre while sipping on SaveMart Tea in Royal Doulton bone china cups.  Pinkies up. That was pure Esme.  Indulge commonly. Live mightily. 
Rene ~ November 1, 2012
For d'verse poets "Meeting The Bar" challenge "Postmodern ( High/Lo…