Brocade~

Brocade

alterations

nimble vivacity

plucking threads. . . .

diminutive ballerina in a music box

frayed shoes spinning off-key

tilting toward woman hands

stretching coiled springs

for stability

inside memories committed

to the wind up key  

as the birdies have all flown

the fairy coop

in disdain

of latch hooks

and thousand piece puzzles

applying instead

lissome fingertips

to pressing thousands of letters

into moments

culling apps and downloads

leaving pigtail imprints

telltale neon impressions

on a canvas of holographic lives

so delicate

and see through

collecting dust

at the bottom of a music box. . . .

little mother

lights

unobtrusive incense

curls of pure thought

in smoke;

tear ducts open on a river

ballerina spins

through ripples of water

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/PAinc.

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

excerpt from

 

 

 

Reviews

[Lachenille Papillion]

Your hands were taught the telling of the tales from birth, and they have done it in many forms of art over the years, yes with thread, with the playing of musical instruments, with the rearing of children, with the stillness of meditation, with the pen, the keyboard, and the gateway of the virtual world as well as the dimensions of time and space, always driven forward by the expanse of your mind across the universe, across humanity, across your soul...
You've been here in so many roles, drenched in so many lifetimes, that I often wonder how you don't grow weary of creating the beauty from the depth of less than nothingness so often.
The imagery comes to life here, the music box on the mantle of my mind's eye, but like all your greatest pieces... I see within it... you~
in colors the world has yet to define...

[Cafe Reader]

Amazing poetry. You never disappoint!

[Quinn Blackburn]

I love your inspiring poetic Phoenix soul. I am so grateful to have found your deliscious writings. No one feeds me quite as well as you. Thank you for being you xo

[David W Moore III]

never has the picture of dancers twirling through the pixels of this modern world taken on more concrete form. we flit to and fro on social media of multitudinous forms (WC included) in my case looking for validation and friendship on a weave of delicate threads. What do we do when they start to unravel?

[Jennifer Lenhardt]

brings back memories of childhood; the ballerina in the music box, but also of motherhood; of my own daughter's ballerina in the music box and how all of us eventually grow up to leave her. somehow though, she still manages to keep dancing, frayed shoes and all:)

[Alicante lullaby]

beautiful enchanting words...you are adept in doing necromancy with words.

[Lilly Negoi]

gracefully endowing words with higher valences - as always :). sometimes i wonder if you haven't discovered by accident the eversource of meanings...

[Chris Smith Welshpoetcs]

Your words dance gracefully on the page, I enjoyed reading.

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

I loved my little ballerina in her music box, cried when she 'broke'.
Now I feel broken at times as she is .. the poem bring thoughts of
childhood and the ending of childhood... beautifully written, always are, Selene.

Chloe

[JelliFyshKissUs]

Oh why does this sound like the new-age ballerinas of today>>>who fly the coop and dance delicate dances through the cyber-connected world>> Listening to the gentle words spill from my lips immediately brought such a picture to my head. A blend of mellifluous thoughts so smooth down the trachea>> As only my dovely can make them ;)

[Bard Constantine]

Patterns of life in gold and silver threads, threadbare at times, frayed... but at other times shimmering like silk... enchanting. Your embattled ballerina spins, humanity drunkenly stumbles... magic is painful and alive in your words...