Tag: postaweek

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~ All Warriors, Seers, Executors of the Forgotten Promise ~

~ He, the One who has given me everything, walks before me; in light that hides in dark places of the forest ~ TFB ~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 10:26 ~ The Forgotten Promise … Read More ~ All Warriors, Seers, Executors of the Forgotten Promise ~

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~Children Running our Shadows Down, the Long Roads of Forever~

I recall a time that we drove underneath a winter moon, with fire in our souls;  Lucinda, the Men and me, Michaele Ruby, sharing Christmas whiskey in the backseat of Grandad’s beat up truck. The luminous elixir shook and shone, in moon lit glass, upon our cotton print dresses set in motion by the wind; as we teased our men with promises… They drove … Read More ~Children Running our Shadows Down, the Long Roads of Forever~

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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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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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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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A Journey after the Storm, Mimosa by the Forest and the Broken Window House

  After the storm water drops, cool upon my hair, like tears from leaves, from the forest. A gentle symphony sounds… of falling drops cascading from different heights, cicada buzzing and a hidden owl, watching. The scent of rain, I will remember, like I remembered when I was a child… A fresh sweetness from the new damp, electrically charged, was exciting to me. The dark roots of trees … Read More A Journey after the Storm, Mimosa by the Forest and the Broken Window House

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My Mission and Story as an Artisan Perfumer; The Importance of Creating without Synthetic Aldehydes and Toxins

      “Ever since I was young, my appreciation for the ‘real’ things in life were very important to me. I always loved the taste of real butter on my food, heavy cream in my coffee, natural honey and sugars, ripe garden vegetables. The scent of essences and spices from garden herbs and flowers were always sensual and intriguing to me.” As a child I … Read More My Mission and Story as an Artisan Perfumer; The Importance of Creating without Synthetic Aldehydes and Toxins

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(The moments that align) ‘Lucinda Mae, Jupiter and a Pig Named Pearl in Dusty Spirit Springs’

  The moments I speak of now are carved deep within the child I once was. The breath of my soul, fearless in the path of the great mystery, I stood proud, in the place of my time; in the place of my knowing… I am Lucinda Mae. I was born and raised in Dusty Spirit Springs; an old mining town encroached upon the … Read More (The moments that align) ‘Lucinda Mae, Jupiter and a Pig Named Pearl in Dusty Spirit Springs’

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