Through A Painting Of Liquid Eyes

~oh MonaLisa men have so unmade you~

You held the olive branch between your sharp little teeth

moving through the ferns and the greens

Leonardo in his coupe de ville

painting the world with storm wheels dipped in ocher

abandoning  old walls

and academic lock boxes

to

Van Gogh in the background with his pastel canvas wrapped

around a young child

threaded through

fingertips tasting  skin

the young girl's eyes hollow holes

as she learned the topography

of a sorceress

with her melodic hands

 

He fell through another mile of silence

bills scattered across the mahogany desk

 golden demoness above the mantle

drinking in his senses with  liquid ink eyes

she had left pride inside an overturned urn a long time ago

for the delicate comforts of immobility between the borders

of a cherry wood frame

 

She fumbled with the silver clasps of her latex bindings

inside silk flames

a rose flicking petals through the ash

as a snake charmer flashed his killer smile

coaxed her from the massacre of inks inlaid

in a parchment of human skin

and ideals

unburdening her sinuous enchantments

laying her hips against a slice of heaven

scaled and adorned

a ring of rubies encircling the bird bones of her wrists

 

She said. . . .

no more praise

no more lies

I'm an animal with wounds

dressed to kill

crouched inside a terrible calm

my hands over my eyes

luminous in a skin made of vespers

and blood splatters coloring museum walls

she overthrew his senses with the painting of her alloy irises

and threw back the cherry shot

outdrew him with bullets scattering silver bodies across the floor

moved through the canvas

into the thunderstorm beating down

her melody

out into a sheet of rain

her colors running into the concrete

as the sound of violins echoed from a paradox of golden circlets

embedded in the fluctuations of quantum entanglement theory

 

He picked her up in his yellow honey bee

and she leaned back

running hues of green and lavender from beneath her raincoat;

"Take me to Manhattan." she whispered

her liquid eyes

solidifying

 

 

copyright:2009vssmd/pa.inc

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

excerpt from. . . .

Reviews

[Jonathan Ballam]

You certainly have a knack when telling a somber tale. Your words echo the idiosyncrasies of the unspoken voices, floating in the background.

I realize that this is an excerpt, but as a poem it only really worked for me up until the line "a ring of rubies encircling the bird bones in her wrists". After that it felt too much like prose (which is what it's meant to be I suppose).

Anyhow, thanks again for sharing. You definitely have a unique style, and not to mention, deliciously readable one :D

[Crinkle°]

A kind of fairy tale... Very good work.

[TAO]

You've confused me again... Sometimes, reading your work, I feel like I'm being taken on a roller coaster ride, then immediately hustled into a 747 to participate in a parabola, then pushed out the door without a chute, only to land on my standing, 30,000 ft. later... All of this after eating too many doughnuts, drinking too much coffee, and smoking too many cigarettes...

I know, on the surface, that may sound like some sort of insult, but in my own way, I'm trying to say the exact same thing Jibey said...riot of the senses and whatnot...

As always, beautiful work, and a surreal pleasure. I don't often get confused...but I'm totally lost, and I'm actually kind of enjoying it...

[Immortal1967]

had to read it a second time, very deep and moving...love your work

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

The Mona Lisa has long been a symbol of feminine mystique. You, however, unfold femininity in shades of day and night, dark and light, sunlight and shadows. One can never be present without the other. You have the unique ability of shining a light within the shadows and making those shadows more beautiful when seen.

You are an artist. You take the broken mirror of humanity and spark a sun upon the shards until we are blinded by the beauty of the pieces.

Linda Marie

[Maurice]

As usual, magnificent.

[An owl on the moon]

There is so much filling your words.. line by line.. such imagery come alive. Every line is magic, but this stood out to me: "He fell through another mile of silence." Painted with the deepest, riches hues... Magnificent.

[Robin]

gasp .. the surrendering , the soul , the universe . a life

[Ed Hart]

it's a dark and lonely ride, but the scenery is beyond counting...and i particularly appreciate the way you filter the persona through the canvases

[C.M. Waters]

Every time I read one of your poems, it's like listening to a piece by Beethoven. Fan-friggin-tastic!

[Jibey]

I loved the read, the riot of the senses, the chiaroscuro of images - like an impressionist painting in words, James Joyce-ian in its stream of consciousness...

... I wanted to understand better what was going on, to have a guide to rationality - and yet, the imaginative dream existed within itself...

Wonderful writing