Category: The Dreams that We Become

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Marrowbone Town’s Secrets

    Marrowbone town is as ancient and orphic as the memory is intimate with secrets. Light is the same at Marrowbone in the morning as it is at dusk, when the sun and star shine, upon silver sheen fog, reach the eyes. One will find many treasures and visions among the souls of townsfolk here. You will find them waiting for you among … Read More Marrowbone Town’s Secrets

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~ A TOWN AT NIGHT HAS ITS OWN SECRETS ~

      ~ A Town at Night has its own Secrets ~   ‘A town at night has its own secrets.’ An old woman whispered this into my child’s ear when I was I was growing.  I recall the late afternoon she came shuffling down the lane by our house in October, while my Daddy was chopping wood for the coming winter.  Dust just … Read More ~ A TOWN AT NIGHT HAS ITS OWN SECRETS ~

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~The Secret Place ~

  The Secret Place ~ In the long days and moments of her dream wandering, she will discover the Secret Place. She moves through the forest, as a child that knows its path. She sees eternal sun, hears the melody of rustling dead leaves and the bloom of life, dancing to cicada’s electric hum. Her eyes reflect what she has known, what has always lived there; older than blood … Read More ~The Secret Place ~

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Summer Memory at Dripping Springs © by Tommie Flannery Baskis Late summer days linger in hazy dreams before the door of autumn. I find in Dripping Springs an old forgotten rose bush by the white clapboard home, abandoned many, many summers ago. The rotten bird house still clings to a post at the old, Pickett Cemetery; where many children went to dreamin’, laughing and … Read More

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‘The Weight of Wings in a Dark Forest’

    ‘The Weight of Wings in a Dark Forest’ The Lady of dust and woods, creates thoughts in dreams, upon the weight of wings in a dark forest. Thoughts that shimmer and drape, silk white aether, on the cindered soil of forgotten leaf dust. She, the one they call when shadows no longer follow… Unfolds for a presence of primal sovereignty, grand and hallowed; … Read More ‘The Weight of Wings in a Dark Forest’

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Old Grandpier Primitive Baptist Church

“The watcher knows the mystery in the living, dances close to what we promised to not remember…” The vision will be dreamed through the season of knowing… The vision will be passed on to you and me… Tommie,  I>  I=   Old Grandpier Primitive Baptist Church It was a very old Baptist Church, settled on the outcrop of encroaching forest. Old stones crumbled, dusty … Read More Old Grandpier Primitive Baptist Church

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Angel Blue & Einar, in Iron Forest (I>) Town (e)

  Matthew 10:26 “So do not be afraid of them, for there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed. or hidden that will not be made known… What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight…” Matthew 10:34 “Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I do not come to bring peace, but a sword…” … Read More Angel Blue & Einar, in Iron Forest (I>) Town (e)

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‘Dancing in the Doorway, in Featherbed Hollow’

I can still hear the deep throaty sound of the cam on his Granddaddy’s flathead V8 truck, as he ripped through the dusty roads of Featherbed Hollow; one of the roads that led to me, that steamy summer. I stood in the doorway, moving my hips slowly to the electric hum of cicada, while Billie Holiday’s ‘The Man I Love’ softly whispered from the back … Read More ‘Dancing in the Doorway, in Featherbed Hollow’

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The Lightning Walnut Tree

  The Lightning Walnut Tree I stand small, in the summer of my innocence, beneath the ancient, lumbering, struck walnut tree. The shimmery haze of Summer sun, hypnotizes me;  as I dream of a silver winged storm that struck a jagged, cavernous rip, down the black walnut tree above me. Moving on the lazy porch swing by the river, I remember the pungent green … Read More The Lightning Walnut Tree

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Summer Memory at Dripping Springs, Featured on Rutger Hauer’s – Soap Box Poets

Summer Memory at Dripping Springs   © by Tommie Flannery Baskis Late summer days, linger; in hazy dreams before the door of autumn. I find in Dripping Springs, an old forgotten rose bush by the white clapboard home; abandoned many, many summers ago. The rotten bird house still clings to a post at the old, Pickett Cemetery; where many children went to dreamin’, laughing … Read More Summer Memory at Dripping Springs, Featured on Rutger Hauer’s – Soap Box Poets

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Marrowbone Town is as Ancient and Orphic as the Memory is Intimate with Secrets…

  Marrowbone town is as ancient and orphic as the memory is intimate with secrets. Light is the same at Marrowbone in the morning as it is at dusk, when the sun and star shine, upon silver fog, reach the eyes. One will find many treasures and visions among the souls of townsfolk here. You will find them waiting for you among the thorned, … Read More Marrowbone Town is as Ancient and Orphic as the Memory is Intimate with Secrets…

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Jupiter and Lucinda; and the Backbone of a Knucklehead Motorcycle

    My Father told me, – ” Desire is a mighty strong and strange force, my child; working its alchemical magic upon our child like, puppet souls.” I never knew where Jupiter came from that December, southern night, when I was walking that same old, red clay road that lead into Dusty Spirit Springs, mining town…my town. The power of some mighty aligning stars, must … Read More Jupiter and Lucinda; and the Backbone of a Knucklehead Motorcycle

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