The Moon In The Girl~

~a UnFairy Tale~

The moon in the girl

evolved

a thousand silver lightning strikes

branching her arteries with quicksilver years

she tumbled the lengths of a synapse into variations

of starlight

aching against a tiny breast

a colorless cocoon

drinking her eternal art

her curiously fabled compositions

binding

tiny ankles

with elemental silk

deep into emerald needles

of an evergreen

 

Upside down

she picked her way through boredom

for thousands of years

suspended in a single sensate diamond mind

inert

yet monumental in the evolution of loneliness

her forehead oiled with an impression

of reproductions

on a canvas

in a wine shop

 

Electromagnetic whispers

a rush of psychic shifters

brushed themselves against the framing of her captivity

until a single lady

with white gloves

and the sun burning in her eyes

opened the glass cabinet

and leaned in with perspective

to coax the moon in the girl out of the profanity

of her captivity

 

The moon in the girl

left a casing of heroic treasure

inside the pantheon of drunkards tipped against the barrels

under the shop of hibiscus spices

where rhetoric was lost in the corners

with frail inventors

scooping remnants from a butter dish

onto their cinnamon rolls

 

The sun in the woman

the moon in the girl

a cocoon of lightning

skin on an open window pane

for a magpie

with curious eyes

and a sharp dark beak

 

The man in the milky way gathered the planets into a crown

Ray Charles on Jupiter singing the sweet blues

over a bowl of nightingales

took up the center presence with his jewel

while Sylvia escaped the iron core of Io

with a billion firefly sparks waiting to be born in her throat

she rushed down the staircase of the darkest hearts

into a Hollywood summer

through the pulse at a wrist of a delicate terror child

who wore the moon pleated through her hair

 

The moon in the girl took a deep breath

a poetess exhaled

the man in the milky way

enfolded the folds of a memory

like beaded prayers

in an orchard

on the darker side

of the moon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

copyright:2010vssmd/pa inc

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

excerpt from

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Goodbye]

You write our lives, our pain, the merciless picking and pecking away by those that have no conscience.

The lines, "Upside down/she picked her way through boredom/for thousands of years/suspended in a single sensate diamond mind/inert/yet monumental in the evolution of loneliness" so richly depicts the inner life of one's brilliance hidden away...at least that's what it all means to me.

Thank you.

[DannyLynne Riley]

p.s. ooops I forgot the picture comment...very striking and appropriate as they always are...much luv girl -DannyLynne

[DannyLynne Riley]

ah Selene (Sigh) you have won my heart with your beautiful and clever words...the poetic tales you spin sometimes in angry darts...sometimes in clever humor and wit...but always...always in that unique pen...that gutter girl stamp you punch onto every piece and always when I come to the end my instinctive tongue wants to breathe out "Amen"...and it is true..your words...your tales...your poetic spins are absolutely my new religion -DannyLynne

[Michael X]

your poetic words are written as only an artist can percieve life,
each word is an image, a brilliant pixel that add up to define the entire
vision in gold, if I could bottle and sell moonbeams, i'd tap into your
spring of beauty my friend. You never cease to amaze us- your fans :)

[Cafe Reader]

Incredible! Everything you touch is magic!

[.]

I was pleased with my poem until I read this...ray charles indeed! Marvellous creations of celestial beings..I am beginning to hate you.... LOL (only joking, I want to have your babies!!!)

[Brad]

( )( ) hows that for a moon?

Ray Charles on Jupiter singing the sweet blues
over a bowl of nightingales

fark yeah, that's the badda bing i expect from you, chawklitt...very unfairy tale, but yet tells a story like one...i'm always blinded by your moonbeams...X/

[Frank F. Atanacio]

Wow this poem just simply fulfills every iota of the promised title " The Moon In The Girl. " I was simply entranced by every word of it

[Brett Campaigne]

You're always fond of casting alot of your poems these days as if they are reflected in the pure blade of a sword, everything iridescent and surgically cuts through many layers of meaning and contemplation.