Not The Rockefellers

Waking, Walking, Singing, in the Next Dimension? 1979 by Morris Graves via Magpie Tales dawn is a feeling warmth that spreads from shoulder to cheek freedom means boundaries landmarks of habit indicators of progress  voices are familiar songs  each new generation produces its convincing covers life is smelly but you'll always know you are home Rene ~ June 2, 2013 For Randy Pierce and The Mighty Quinn

Picasso, faun-horse-bird, 1936 she sang you in like a sea serpent charmed i'm sure once on her lips a lifetime on your knees begging your once limber tongue now tied in despair poor thing such a pity tempted by that pretty sly bird worse than her song was her empty reward silence and now you dream of diving black horses screaming dragging you down under a shameful sun drowning so easily you surrender your grip freedom Rene ~ March 17, 2013 For Magpie Tales

Image: ( via Magpie Tales ) TheFoxandRaven     what i made of her: a pouty lipped wringing wet pre-coital national velvet era box top version of liz taylor i left behind in the attic with her narcoleptic libido and her a&p bags  full of half finished coming of age dime store beach trash she a dark secret, a red sash heart murmur, a wicked invention of an adolescent  ouija board imagination she now screams blue,  dripping wet and seething  down my dream halls how DARE I leave! how FUCKED UP to remember! pillow flipping off her midnight power surge i drown her out  in buckets of tidal sweat good lord, girlie go the hell to sleep go to hell to sleep Rene ~ 2013

the world stops and stares the sound of your voice a lake of pin drops freeze and thaw mid-air I can't hear you now but down come the rain I can hear you then I will know your name Rene ~ February 23, 2013 Some scrawling on a Saturday morning 40 words 40 syllables