Renee Marie Poems

There is no world we can create
without some cornerston;
a sweet fantasy,
a full color dream,
...

I be comin' home
with gifts from afar.
I be comin' home -
I are, I are.
...

Please….
Don't kick me
Don't jerk me
Don't slam me
...

She
has hands
that shoot
moonbeams
...

A lachrymose sentimentality mourns over
the intensifying acrimonious political wars dividing our
United States of America.
...

Those I know
who don't 'clock-in'
that doodle or dream
at home within
...

If
I am silent -
will it ever matter?
...

Place my two feet on the ground,
feel my breath
beyond a
lover's gulping
...

On the Border Patrol mission I stole a piece
of rusty barbed wire from God’s desert.
115 degrees, Yuma, Arizona,
one quarter-mile south of my Army shade tent -
...

I speak, you speak, we speak drum - on Sundays in the park, beside the roses.
People passing speak back, first with eyes of wanting, yet fear of entering the universal circle of language without syllables, without dictation of meters or rhymes, pushes them further away.

Some pause, some enter, inch closer then choose, then hold, then rub rhythm sticks,
...