the dresser

Venus de Milo with Drawers, Salvador Dali, 1936

i’m the keeper
of your
trinkets
your dirty little
secrets
your moustache
wax
your un-pressed
slacks
just bring it
here now
all your
holy psycho
laundry

i’m the honey
in your
locket
the hamper
for your
pocket
bureau
of your
shame
strongbox
for your
flame
yeah babe
come on
stuff all that wicked love
into me

call me Aphrodite
or Venus more politely
a cocoon
for your treasures
chiffonier
of your pleasures
fill me up rightly
with cocktail
stirrer charm nightly
i laugh when you tickle me
i call you
daddy

i’m your
lover
your
junk drawer
your
doctor
your
drunk whore
your
casket of faces
your
keepsake oasis
go ‘head
and file me
someplace where
you’ll find me
i’ll be ready
and waiting
for the turn
of your key

Rene ~ February 24, 2013
For Magpie Tales

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memories of a young poet

“November Lace” ~ Photo by Rene



marble notebook in hand
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
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


Excerpted from “November Lace” by Rene
Rene ~ February 9, 2013

For d’Verse Poetics “Meeting The Bar-Mining The Memory”