blood stains freckle snow-white linen rusted lace adrenaline sloppy split lip apologetic kiss hide my face yet still i hear sharp-edged marbles in your mouth tumbling over scotch rocks and little red last straws nobody sees the more that doesn’t meet their eye no news is good weather no bruise dear it’ll get better we soothe ourselves with lullabies and true lies just rest now dear let go of your world pull up a chair let go of my hair the taste of bile on your lips, how quick the monster slips away i wait i pray you drift soon, soundly sweetly a little boy on soiled sheets a broken spirit hides spinning webs andlicking wounds under cover locked jaw unglued
Rene ~ January 10, 2013
d’Verse Poets, Meeting The Bar-The Medium Is The Message
It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone whistle in my kitchen
It’s quite the delight
Ahhh…you made coffee
And you’re making french toast!
You are a saint
You gotta fiddle with that knob on the left rear burner
It’s a pain in the butt sometimes
Personally, I think it just likes the extra attention
Mmm…your ear smells like cinnamon
not fair, man, that…
not fair at all
your ass looks better in my sweatpants than mine does
I now have to kill myself
After I eat a loaf of french toast, though
You want some orange juice?
Tell me, again
Why is it we never were?
Rene ~ January 5, 2013
For 100 Word Song
The song prompt was Dan Fogleberg’s
Same Old Auld Lang Syne
she was light and magic, springtime laughter woven through her hair
i found her world cluttered and noisy, a place where logic sighs
but how my heart leaps when i hear a bird call, her breath of life
she was a singer of hymns, a joyful, patient sentinel
i was a snare drum, ready to snap at the skip of a beat
i now find myself leeching to the choir, waiting on her voice
she was my anchor as well as my spirited ticket to ride
how i gnawed at the tether, unaware of the life line
i hold, waiting like a child, to the end of her crimson thread
Rene ~ October 10, 2012
Trying my hand at form of poetry known as Korean Sijo
a departure for me because I’m a flighty free verse girl.
I learned of this form from my friend and fellow poet Marian at Runaway Sentence
Girl can write. I hope I’ve done the form justice.
Lastly, this is a submission for 100 Word Song, hosted by my friend and fellow writer, Lance from My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog. I went over the 100 word limit by 10.
Sorry, had to be done. Mea culpa.
I’d like to take this opportunity to share a few words from Lance:
“Several months ago, I wrote a fictional short story, called Italian Radio inspired by the release of aquitted American murder suspect, Amanda Knox. Since then, the 4,500 word story has been rewritten, edited, re-edited, and is now competing against amazing writers in a context called America’s Next Author. Public support such as tweets, facebook shares, and of course, website votes mean a lot. I try to entertain ya’ll here at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog. So now, if you can, entertain me, too. Go here: http://www.ebookmall.com/americasnextauthor and / or here:http://www.ebookmall.com/author/lance-burson Read Italian radio, and if you like it, cast a vote for me, please. Tell a friend or fifty. Thank you for continuing to click here when there are so many cooler places on the internets to hang. Remember, I live with four women, so sharing the prize is properly out of my hands. People are reading and reviewing and voting as I type. They count tweets, facebook shares and written reviews on the page. If you promote this on the twitter use the hastag #ana2012 . There are enough pills to get me through this…..Please and thank you, my fellow blog pugilists.”