Strings Of Glass With Beaded Mirrors~

"My mirror, mirror on the wall...
How do we stop the inevitable fall..." asked the Bride

as she tucked the Hanzo blade into its sheath. . . .

"You turn it against the wall~glass side in. . . ." said the girl with the yellow eyes

(those kinds of eyes that reflect the soul backward)

as she took the Bride's delicate hand

pulled her up behind her

into the polished saddle

on the back of a horse the color of dark pearls

deciding then

and there

she would save the Bride by shattering the past

and to hell with all the world

and its animal humanity. . . .

 

. . . .there was a tiny girl in an old bed

somewhere in a meadow

that gave birth to marigolds with blood centers

leaves like razor blades fell from the scales

of the gunmetal sky

so that every time she placed her little feet

against the ground

to escape

the edges cut her to the bone

fragmenting her bit by bit

sectioning her soul . . . .

 

. . . .there was another girl in a tapestry against the skye

who decided to pluck a string from a theory

and tune it to her rage

she flipped out of the night

shifted from her bones

into the solidity of a young prince

and with a tulip in his hand

rolled aside the pleat of this

to flip into the sectioned jewel of that;

the prince came to a meadow

of yellow flowers dripping a girl's blood off their leaves

shedding a girl’s soul off their thorns

he put his lips against a stray atomic particle caught on a pollen fluff

and whispered a secret against her nucleus

charming her into a braided rope of gold

suspended in the blue air. . . .

 

. . . .the girl screamed in the center of the dream

but the prince refused to focus on the unanimal slithering

through knife blades of grass

to eat the child again

and again

instead the prince pressed his determination into his bare feet

as he climbed the golden rope

suspended for his right to unfold the laws of Time

and walked it step by step

to brand

a shape of justice

into the fluctuation of physics

gone haywire

 

. . . .the monster no longer terrified the little girl

she was resigned to his maw digging through her abdomen

to bury his sins between her frail hipbones

she simply laid her body back into the violence

as he leapt over the edge of oak woodwork

to dismantle yet another fragment of her spirit

and wear it in his mind like an ember. . . .

but something happened this time

in midair. . . .

 

. . . .the young prince leapt the last breath from the braided rope

which unfurled

enchanted by the boy who was a woman over there

outside the looking glass

and gave him that last impetus to grab the monster

bite the nape of its neck

and break its back against the footboard of the bed. . . .

 

. . . .the little girl sat up

with eyes of blue so wide

as the boy tore the monster to little shreds of ash and bone

with his hands

ripped its throat out with his teeth

spitting beast fragments against a pane of glass suspended

in a field of marigolds

that bled ink and curlicues of smoke from their centers

 

. . . ."Dead. . . .dead as dreams." whispered the boy

the little girl laughed shards of crystal from her eyes

and shook her golden head, no

consumed the boy up with her iridescent irises of pain

pulling him in

and pushing him through

into a canoe where he was a woman

mourning a Bride

trailing fingertips in warm waters underneath the moon

 

"Mirror. . . .mirror on the wall

sometimes we're designed to fall. . . ." said the Bride with the Hanzo steel

from the waters of the lake

as she wound herself around the fingertips of a woman

who does not cry

but thinks deep and long

on things

this woman who pulled the firefly aspects from the waters

in drops of silver soul

and brought them to her burning lips

to kiss

to taste

to drink

as the Bride spilled her perfume against her tongue

whispering. . . .

 

"S~~~~~, you are the greatest love hidden inside the darkest pain, and the piece of me that I leave here..."

 

. . . .the woman pulled the canoe up onto the shores

her eyes made of silver

her mind made of beaded mirrors

spinning strings of glass

love

pain

pieces of the broken minds

in a tiny box of copper

on a chain of remembrance

between her breasts

asking no one why some survive

while others fall

because suddenly she understood

that there are no answers

only questions

evermore

 

 

 

 

copyright:2010vssmd/pa.inc

All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

excerpt from

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

~how do you save the broken dolls when they grow up to be broken women~how do you destroy the monsters that don't live under their beds but in them~how do you catch someone in their intentional fall~ you can't . . . .but you can catch the monster's jaw before it takes its first bite out of the child and sets her or him up for a lifetime of shedding soul until nothing is left~

I won't say anymore on this except that the italicised centered sentence above the last stanza, was in the note she left behind~

Reviews

[Bubo]

I just feel incredible sad..........and you will always bring your reader and wrap them up, taking them somewhere unknown, but oh so known if they reach in and look hard enough.........you are a soul, a soul that I would call a clean soul.........because you are for other's, and feel, see, and taste hurt, but remain clean........I make no sense, but I rarely meet clean souls..........and when I do I treasure them.

[Lachenille Papillion]

sigh...



Namaste

[Brad]

how do we? we don't and we can't. they find out on their own. children have a way of weeding out what they think is wrong and either excise that from themselves or do not include it in raising the next. No, that does not always happen...but for those of us aware of the pitfalls...we can only steer for them...they have to drive

[luciddreamer]

Selene, your warrior, goddess, myth, science, personal, heartfelt writings always move me...this one is no exception.....
Peace
Robin

[.]

your mix of fairytale and philosophy is so clever..again your metaphor and words in technicolour portions are amazing, dont know where you get this from..your authors notes though are a poignant reminder that a writer takes alot from personal experience and this is obviously a very personal piece you have written..we create our own experiences and although we can guide we cannot make someone change their destiny that they have created for themselves especially if they don't want to..we must change ourselves not the circumstances because they will always be there in some guise..

[Linear]

A masterpiece of written craft, throughout the wordage was a sensuallity, a caring softness, almost genteel, a spiral of tormented emotions, the girl became a woman, through trials survived, though scars are left

I may well be out of the ball park with this, but i enjoyed the rollercoaster

[.]

this poem slices like a true Hanzo-razor-sword Selene-
""there was another girl in a tapestry against the skye
who decided to pluck a string from a theory""
""S~~~~~, you are the greatest love hidden inside the darkest pain, and the piece of me that I leave here...""
""between her breasts
asking no one why some survive
while others fall
because suddenly she understood
that there are no answers
only questions
evermore""
~you are Goddess Selene-i love the pulp feel in this-
an Elmore Leonard/Tarantino like feel-
(yours is much better written of coarse!!!)
~beautiful allegorical poetry luv...
I think i may need to sit&write a creative essay on this briliance :)
:)

[Closedown]

Oh my, I'm overwhelmed by the imagery and fractured fairytale feel here, I've lost my words. And that really is something. I mean, wow.

[JelliFyshKissUs]

My heart is so moved by this story and--more so--the unpolished note you left behind that I cannot write a proper review. Just know that the words are felt throughout my soul and I will mull of these painful truths throughout my existence to ensure that I am never one of these monsters nor an individual that contributes to it. Perhaps that vow might save ONE. And that ONE is enough for me.