Cedar And Black Velvet~

How do you dress a girl

who believes in her own flora and not her girlish thing

for an evening out

on the black velvet town?

Do you fold the sticks against the branches

of her her arms

for the fantasy of  leather  sleeves?

Do you uproot her from the greek flower pot

and squeeze her moist, earthen toes

into Prada?

Do you strip her leaves

for the allure of rouge and the coy eyelashes

flirting with the keen of a thousand predators?

Do you shake her

until all her fruit

have scattered around those mesmerizing stilleto heels?

And even

even should you get this far

what then of the antlers growing from her personal myth?

And what of the prismatic diorama

the landscape of her nature

spinning in the planets of her eyes?

 

There is no triumph

in caging the canary

she will sing

and sing

until the blood runs down the bars of her cage;

wether the blood is yours

or hers

is the gamble

 

Cedar girl lost the male thing

lost her her coy skin and smeared smile

on his lapel

in a club on the boardwalk

and found the perfect spot along the coast

to root

 

Of course

the canary found her in the rising sun

and made a nest of dreams in her theoretical branches;

and they lived surrealy ever after

just sideways to the moral if this immortal tale

the end

 

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Author's Note

bad neurons~ always firing off at the most inopportune moments~

Reviews

[LilyT]

Mingling mythology, and reality as only you can do, Selene. There are a dozen different hidden implications as regards the actions of the human being through her endless movements throughout the maturation process. Lately your explorations of character and natural selection of individualistic development are remarkable in their depth and significance.

There is no triump

in caging the canary

she will sing

and sing

until the blood runs down the bars of her cage;

wether the blood is yours

or hers

is the gamble





Striking stanza. You and your exotic Pandora's box always leave me stunned.

[Michael X]

Selene, you are a very inspiring poet, your words make the reader want to pick up the pen and continue your flow. Your mind is a poetic realm.

[Kerry O'Connor]

This is my favourite part of the dis-metamorphosis:


what then of the antlers growing from her personal myth?

And what of the prismatic diorama

the landscape of her nature

spinning in the planets of her eyes?

But I love everything about the idea you have brought to life in these words. I saw it all unfold before my eyes.

[Doug Ordunio]

Very provocative images...strangely it reminds me of the images of Lavinia in the movie "Titus" when you describe sticks and branches of her arms. Nicely done

[OT]

you're on a roll seleney! so many poems of late! ha - all top quality of course - love the last stanza in this one - the sideways to the moral of this immortal tale - to live surreally ever after - brilliantly creative as always!

[Art Sun]

those neurons have taken you to the creative demensions of poetry...such a work can only be surpassed by another who enters Your World...a very intriguing piece and the ending sums it all up...very creative...got me meditatively thinking..*****

[Jibey]

Wonderfully surreal and enchanting

[w2de35657u687y4324rf]

Oooh, bad blood gone blissfully bitter off of bride's back hand, so sweetly sick I'm plummeting in love.
I love the defiance of the norm-- she goes for the flash of society, but then is able to find solace beyond her errors.
I found special enjoyment in this stanza:
"There is no triump[h?]/in caging the canary/she will sing/and sing/until the blood runs down the bars of her cage;/w[h?]ether the blood is yours/or hers/is the gamble"
I was actually sneering and mumbling "F**k yeah." by the end of it.
Excellent work, going on my favs for sure.
100/100

[Cafe Reader]

Do you fold the sticks against the branches

of her her arms

for the fantasy of leather sleeves?

Do you uproot her from the greek flower pot

and squeeze her moist, earthen toes

into Prada?

Do you strip her leaves

for the allure of rouge and the coy eyelashes

flirting with the keen of a thousand predators?

Do you shake her

until all her fruit

have scattered around those mesmerizing stilleto heels?






Your amazing, brilliant mind! Always teaching us about ourselves, the parts we don't see, you see clear as day.

[Ed Hart]

oh, very bad neurons, all grown smudgly by gropacious manhandies and trilingering re-aroundments...but she smirklashes an' pintails 'em, and makes plackersmaks to stickwrench an' plumpulls their thumps...now freely flyin' in the musical aire, most wonderplaces, most softsongin' to sweetmake the moments of here

[FireWoman]

Arm candy girls/women live in a balance of power v. powerless. The secret is that they are as alluring without the man, but it is fun to make him think he has all the power,eh? . Truth be told, men drool over women who couldn't hold a candle to you on the runway or a standard I. Q. test.
Maya hit the nail on the head with 'I know why the caged bird sings'. We have the power to validate ourselves, rejoice in spite of sorrow, all I ask is that the door to my cage be left open so I may decide when it is time to fly. You never leave me thinking, "oh that was nice", I always leave questioning the philosophical reasons why.