november lace

November Lace, 2009, Rene Foran

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 peace
she belonged right here,
right now
to this moment.

Peace ~ Rene


This post from 2010 has become my “Alice’s Restaurant”… it’s just not Thanksgiving until I repost it. It remains one of my favorites


Happy Thanksgiving!
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paparazzi

image from National Geographic

you can’t stop
the fame screams your name
licks your shoulders
and claws your back
your eyes love the rhythm
the hook charms your soul

your nights are restless
roping the wind
mining diamonds on the sun
you stop to breathe
and all the world is still
as rockets

a kingdom
for just one
shot
what the world needs now
you tell yourself
is a good old fashioned


supernova
to bring us together
because cliched meteoric flame-outs
are nothing more
than tedious cosmic
nuisances


yawning
jade lidded
you scratch your ass
refusing to believe
there’s nothing new
under the sun

Rene ~ July 2012

P.S.

If I could just
say everything
that I really
want to say
at the time
that it is needed
instead of later
the next day

I would not
scribble
in to letters
words that could not
find their way
from my head
to my mouth
lost, blindly shuffling
traveling south

If I could post
all these notes
to everyone
I’ve ever met
I would love
to see their faces
smiling at what
I should have said

Rene~June 2012

For Magpie Tales

Image Credit:
Still Life, 1670, detail by Jean François de Le Motte

bittersweet graffiti

My first thought at seeing this weeks Magpie photo prompt (below) was
“There’s always room for Jell-O”.
I then read the sentence under the photo….
“a grave in the Novodevichy Cemetery, Moscow”
No room for Jell-O there.
As sweet and non-filling as it is…
~

you can’t take it with you
that’s a bone hard fact
but you certainly
can leave
a little something for dessert behind…
a gift to the world
a memento
a trinket or two of your time spent
here on this rock.

what would you leave
your jewels
your words
your mother’s eyes
your father’s voice
what would you give
to a world that held you
~

a deep fear of mine
is leaving
you alone
behind
worse than that
is you
leaving me
before your time
~

Ahhh life.
How’s it going so far?

Like my friend Braja reminds me
Don’t forget to laugh

Rene ~ February 2012
For Magpie Tales

“a grave in the Novodevichy Cemetery, Moscow”

scraps

i know the face
but i’ve misplaced the name
along with my car keys
and that song that goes
la di da di da
you know the one
c’mon help me out here

hey, how about the time
we bought apples at the Acme
i couldn’t get over how delicious
was it September?
i’m trying to remember
don’t all the best apples happen
in September?

your father liked September
back to school with Robert Hall
new jackets
shoes and socks
and don’t forget
pencil cases and book covers
what a damn racket

the cup goes in the cupboard
that’s how i remember
neat trick, huh?
i like tricks
just like a kid
otherwise i’d go in circles all day
looking for corners

Rene ~ January 2012

seismic inactivity

I am an earthquake hot spot
a jenga nightmare
no room for that one delicate
last slip of a straw
crazy
I know
but I cannot find the fault

so I breathe
without exhaling
and I stretch
elbows turned inwards-always
and I wait
for it all to fall apart
or the joke to crack

Rene ~ January 2012

stuck

Mostafa Habibi
Inspired? Click on over to Magpie Tales


my dreams are sooo grand 
all the world shines with light
morning wakes wrathful demons
fear and doubt, my reality bites
root bound in my future inventions
i’m a mother of stillborn intentions
i’d love to entertain success
but i haven’t a thing to wear
so i’ll just stay stuck here
it isn’t yet high tide
like a bee on a lollipop stuck
here the view is quite sublime

oh i’ll just stay stuck here

it isn’t all that bad

i’ll just stay stuck here
the sunsets are kinda rad…
one day i’ll get out
and in that boat, you’ll see
i’ll paddle out to middle of it all
you’ll be so proud of me
but what if a tsunami hits!
how the hell would I survive?
and what if I do? what do I do?
when the sharks eat me alive?
so … i’ll just stay stuck here
ahhh, all this time for me
i’ll just stay stuck here
but i’m getting kinda thirsty
i’m a little sad being stuck here
i could sure use some company

it kinda sucks being stuck here
anyone got a shovel for me?

Rene ~ December 2011