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.

[asdarkeyesclose]

'Do you uproot her from the greek flower pot
and squeeze her moist, earthen toes
into Prada?'

Loved the extended metaphor of girl and plant, both growing, both reaching out into the world. The opening is truly inspired, the rest is the same old story girl meets boy but you make it unique especially with the canary stanza which becomes a metaphor for life, very powerful, very edgy :)

[Robin]

you sing and the words follow ~ you and your music box heart , always lyrical with a tilted 'just so' beat that swaggers through the imagination ~

and that canary , my natural heart is humming along , Vive la liberté

[Reese38]

Your grasp of similies, your ability to create metaphors of the most unique variety is incomparable. The Princess and the Pea, Medusa's curse, Briar Rose, the Labyrinths of personal analysis, all make the most subtle appearances. No protesting your station as the Queen of The Surreal. You are.


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?



One of your most prevailing opening stanzas.

[David W Moore III]

You're always just sideways of this world. And I'd love to come visit you there as it is always interesting. Sometimes painful, sometimes said, sometimes angry. But always interesting.

[Lilly Negoi]

"Do you shake her
until all her fruit
have scattered around those mesmerizing stilleto heels?"

somehow while reading the lines above my eyes hurt as if robbed of all memory of forbidden fruit...