daisy

go on 

an’
eat your 
cake

on your 

pretty 
little
plate

cross 

your fingers
at your 
ankles

beautiful 

fools
get the best of 
everthin’

hid 

under the 
skins of
careless lovers

did your momma 

teach you that,
when she taught you 
how to pray ?

did your daddy 

praise you
when you bat 
yo’ eyes?

you draw them

in
with your satin 
on their sin
make them
weep
with your 
sighs

go on 

an’
hook their 
arms

with your

clever
little 
charms

tell them 

stories
’bout
your conquests

you’re a child 
of god
jus’ doin’ her 
daddy’s work

say it 

enough
you’ll start 
believin’

did your momma

teach you that,
when she taught you 
how to pray ?

did your daddy

praise you
when you 
bat yo’ eyes?

you draw them 

in
with your satin 
on their sin
sweet
little lambs
flock to
lies

Rene ~ 2013

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three wishes

i
want
to touch you
so i can believe
this isn’t just another dream

i
want
to taste you
so that you can be
my honeysuckle apple queen

i
want
you and me
so that i can have
just what i want, not what i need

Rene ~ 2013

missing glory

photo by Elena Kalis via Magpie Tales
she was light and magic, springtime laughter woven through her hair
i found her world cluttered and noisy, a place where logic frowns
ambushed, my heart leapt when i heard 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 cloudship, an ocean, a free spirited ticket to ride
i gnawed away at my tether, she became my new life line
i hold, needing like a child, the loose end of her crimson thread

Rene ~ 2013

alma

Image via Magpie Tales

Alma
she, the practical godmother 

of re purposed filled lives

did so, not out of
fad or fashion
or deep cosmic guilt

but rather frugality
borne out of
horse drawn necessity

with Alma
one was never allowed
to simply “be”

a spoon could not
just stir
a kettle had to do more than
just boil

one trick extravagances
had no business
in her business

for Alma
“just doing your bit”
was an unforgivable sin
and a grotesque waste
of limitless talent

she eschewed
the flock trotted superhighway
and blazed her own way
in inventive fashion

the future
sewn and soldered 
formed from 
whatever she had on hand
waiting to be reborn
and twisted 
drifting from the past

Rene ~ July 2013

daughter

Image: A Musin Yohan, via Magpie Tales

trouble overhead

something weighing 
heavy 
on the mind
i rise
obedient
under a vengeful brow
pulling up my heels
Raising my voice!
i go
back
to my roots
wielding my habits of comfort
i walk the way
of my mother
singing psalms
soothing the sky
Rene~ June 2013
For all of my sisters

the waiting place

He flicked a cigarette ash into a Starbucks cup and looked up into the approximate area he believed I would understand to be my eyes.

I didn’t get to say everything, he rasped
No one does, I said
If you did get the opportunity
How would you punctuate your last breath?
Your cup’s on fire, dude.
Oh. Are you trying to be profound?
No, it was really on fire there for a second,
but now it’s out.
I watched it happen.
Rene ~ June 2013