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Showing posts from March, 2014

tall boys and tatts

color me  shamrock carved  switchblade kitsch
blue cacophony ivy
hit me up with your hot sauce your devil pepper weaponry  light me up &

tack weld
my libido into  smiley faces something useful

© 2014-Rene
*image via magpie tales


       "my bed" photo by Tracey Emin

sliding down
supine moon swept dais hipster mummy's gnawed repose
© 2014-Rene

spilt milk and honey badgers don't cry

feast in the house of Simon,1610, El Greco 
enjoy what's spilt
leave hold all
your pseudo first
world guilt
breathe it in and don't let's start soon there'll come  a worse part 
just ignore this  squandering chase your loyalties  wandering
let the lady sing

past the salad days
come the bitter grapes
grown to stomp your

© 2014-Rene

not us

Lee Plaza Hotel, Detroit, photo by Bonnie Beechler ( via Magpie Tales )
ah, you were not my lighthouse shining up from the bottom of a well
nor was i your brave daisy bursting through suffocating pavement
we were not conjoined hearts, cores livers, kidneys  or even onions
and we won’t ever be dreaming big or staying strong together as old souls
so what... we’re not kitchen cliches or  refrigerator door metaphors
you are you i am me and we do get along immaculately 
© 2014-Rene


The Sleeping Gypsy, 1897, by Henri Rousseau

thank you that was very honorable the way you held me mercifully  in your infinite arms of  immaculate plasma 
yes. i was in need i had danced with a bleak song curled up in his lap -the crater of a darkside moon inhaled his pipe -a rare child’s final farewell
and now i am spun gold i am the brightest flash  of the upper limb i am the moment of discovery and  this sun
is a whirling dervish 
© 2014-Rene