This Killing Mood~

It collects in a globule at the corner of a scrape

a red cape

through space takes on motion between the quirky smile

and the dangerous tapping of a shoe on polished wood

soot on leather

gently toe the line

the white palm open for the drop of blood

caught

the paint turns burgundy with intent

splash of emotions

the work of art captures the three dimensional canvas

the condition of being alive

in an arena

where the walls scream

and the forest outside whispers with sharp teeth

the light bulb flickers with shadows

ghosts slip their veils

and everything from birth to this moment

collects its trails in the silver veins

of a knife;

tip and tap goes the shoe

tap and tip goes the buttered mood

tipped from a cutting board

into a hollow sternum

the fresh croissants spin through a dynamic air

peppered with spatial aortal blood

in midflight

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

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Reviews

[OT]

hmm we can melt into your words ha - descriptions that coat the eyes in colour - "the light bulb flickers with shadows
ghosts slip their veils
and everything from birth to this moment
collects its trails in the silver veins
of a knife;" - Very jealous of the amount of gems you're knocking out!!!!!! brilliantly untuned, detuned and retuned as always!!!

[Reese38]

One of the most valuable, and distinctive attributes of your creative writing approach, is that it never stops ripening. You continue to evolve the English language all on your own, and what I've notice is that other writers are beginning to not just employ your variant style, but the more ingenious ones are developing their own using yours as a bouncing off point for a whole new class of expressive writing. You are the influential Queen of The Surreal, but more so, you're a Teacher with a capital T.
Like Lily, I see how you're destined to rewrite every story until, and this is quoting you, " it stands up straight".
This Killing Mood is an excercise in lucid art. A masterpiece, as all the others.


tip and tap goes the shoe

tap and tip goes the buttered mood

tipped from a cutting board

into a hollow sternum

the fresh croissants spin through a dynamic air

peppered with spatial aortal blood

in midflight


The dynamics of illustrative inscriptions are yours like they're no others.

[Rikkevi Rue]

only you can make walls scream and forests whisper with sharp teeth! Your adeptness at constructing a mosaic sewn with the EXACT right snippets of cultural minutiae laced through the mirrored reflections of the tales of our youth and craft from these simple and common ingredients another michelangelo of freestyle poetry is beyond impressive. "Come-on and take me higher!"

Amazing that you can construct a most tangible and manifest reality out of the ephemeral and whimsical. You're just too cool selene!!!

[Lilly Negoi]

this screams pain - and i'm not talking about the one reflected by your "knife's silver veins" but by the one admired in
"the work of art captures the three dimensional canvas
the condition of being alive
in an arena
where the walls scream
and the forest outside whispers with sharp teeth"
sometimes there is no other escape than this...

[EmeraldTwilight]

The word that first leaps to my mind as I read this is.. Haunting. Your words have a way of forming themselves on the page and creating terrific visuals. Perfect flow and arrangement. Great work, and I hope to read some more of it soon!

[Lydia Blackwell]

oooh my. sepultural.... (sp?) that is the 1st word that came to mind. well written.
my fav part is:
and the forest outside whispers with sharp teeth...
nice! super descriptions that seem to arrive at so easily:) you are a jewel!

[Crowley]

This one put me in a buttered mood...I love that phrase. And the last lines were amazing. You write both horizontally and vertically so well, the emotions and visions aren't just there, they are shaped to perfection and served with a flourish....loved this.

[S.Hunt]

"soot on leather"
terrific visuals

[David W Moore III]

Somehow, my favorite image was her basket of fresh croissants flying through the air with the spritz of aortal blood. It made me smile (in a not so serial killer crazy kind of way!)

[.]

You construct the surreal in literary steams of beautous rhythm that strum a harmonious chord within the hearts of us all..