What stunning features Miasma crafted ... for herself from the apple peels circling the galactic, choking core of another spilling day as her man ambled down cherry wood flights of fancy with his forehead wide open on a garden of herbs for her nimble, plucking fingers mint lobes and dill temples; breakfast at this house was always a cerebral experience
Tourists rode a section slash of eden a trashy, overused square of dreams like a magik carpet with children picking chicken bones and tomorrow’s dreams from frayed, astroturf edges while a dark smudge of celebrity hid behind her spider veil counting coup with lipstick on the rim of her Hummel latte
Welcome to the floating bed and dreadfest over breakfast where reckoning peppers eggs over easy for a mushroom girl with an stunning umbrella that opens inverse and bleeds the sky of cranberry marmalade for your toast and I shall be your server with tips in my fluid apron with crazy straws encrusted with diamonds and extra napkins for the serious bleeders
Flip a strip of bacon on a cavernous grill the hunchback in lean profile pushing shop rite whites into the Mesozoic until Miasma trips his trick up presses him between a papyrus and a bone knife a quivering book in a bell tower for a roving girl with a strobing mind and emeralds in her Esmereldic discarnation
In jars where fish gasp in cheap heaps where children are sold to fat Americans for cash inside your décor and your décolletage bought for a square peg romance with self idolatry I will be your server in my ink apron smiling with black eyesockets as misguided divinity rolls my vision in its palms with glee
Charon never served death so beautiful Liberty never had killer stilettos like these Justice never walked the cat walk with such a sway in the drop of the anvil
Welcome to the River I will be your server . . . .
copyright:2012vssmd/amusemusepress ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
'Charon never served death
so beautiful
Liberty never had killer stilettos
like these
Justice never walked the cat walk
with such a sway in the drop of the anvil
Welcome
to the River
I will be your server . . . .'
those last lines utterly brilliant and just taking the poetry up that notch until it becomes something universal, unexpected and sublime. if there ever was such a thing as a poet who wrote for poets, i'm sure you do write for a wider audience but the cadences here are so appealing, refreshing and unique that they cast a spell upon the reader transporting us into your world where we find the surreal, the tragic realities of life, but also a poetry that is so unbelievably fresh and invigorating that we fall in love with the art form all over again. stunning!
What?? where's Thanatos? Not invited to vacation by the river? I see his butler made it here. He has made it clear to me that this snub will not go overlooked. Especially where he should be most welcome. He loves serving his eggs over easy with just the right amount of reckoning. And I love how conversations come full circle, for Atropos also wants to drop by... her sheers are dripping a river of there own.
OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Sweet. Like having your nadgers stapling to a moving car and finding your roller skate only have wheels that move backwards. Liberation and fear marcing hand in hand in Killer Heels
Do I really have to say anything???? Well I will give it a hot...The poetic brush used is of the finest sable and the pigments colour the dreamscape in a variance of hues and if one is needed you Selene create a whole new spectrum into which the viewer melts , never reader as one views your words or perhaps even tastes them....
meow...you just served the most delicious dish my friend...I was thinking that there was nothing left in me to write and then you pop along and pop a gem on it...thanks..perfection in a surreal swirl of liberation!
At first glance, I thought this was just a splash of moment, of beauty, painted as only you can do. But like all of your poems, the third, fourth, fifth reading peel back your organza layers - a peek into your brilliant mind...
Your seductive, wooing word-pictures draw me in, but here, I find darkness, a tale that must be told. Life is not sunshine and lollipops.
The knell has never sounded more beautiful, nor has it ever hooked so tenaciously into the mind.
The artist serves. In your case, she serves truth, and does so with beauty and brilliance. Bravo as always~
'Charon never served death
so beautiful
Liberty never had killer stilettos
like these
Justice never walked the cat walk
with such a sway in the drop of the anvil
Welcome
to the River
I will be your server . . . .'
those last lines utterly brilliant and just taking the poetry up that notch until it becomes something universal, unexpected and sublime. if there ever was such a thing as a poet who wrote for poets, i'm sure you do write for a wider audience but the cadences here are so appealing, refreshing and unique that they cast a spell upon the reader transporting us into your world where we find the surreal, the tragic realities of life, but also a poetry that is so unbelievably fresh and invigorating that we fall in love with the art form all over again. stunning!