why the stars are nothing like us

You are 2 beautiful 2

know flattery from freedom. For as much as stars are things being used up,

I will admit to the air tasting like the wind expatiating

upon the value of loves fabric. Yet when you think of it

most of the flaming outlines is a sweet, mauve filling;

a wide formation of epexegesis birds doing needlepoint

above the  totem of combustion. That's why our memories

makes curves around the outer-garments of the poems you've dreamt;

the fleshy, passionate parts will ooze out the girdled sides

and the muffin top, the soft yarn of flattery,

will tuft to invertebrate and slither to the engines

of our soul.

Remember, I was the one never picked for flag football. I couldn't see

the stroke of something large. Every quadrupled noisy ball

was a cage. Every webbing a brilliant, manqué  with panicles keeping

score of me. As for

the sunsets I will never get rich enough to see. Or the sea I will not

crystalize to stone by my long staring.

My fixity drawings of spirit or the dead that sits on the promised

star placed wholesome between the linden trees will do.

That's why we are nothing like the stars above. Our scarlet markings coverts

and our black wing quills bend downward. 

Reviews

[Wesley Dingler]

I agree with em, I love the language juggling. I myself am a sucker for off-beat verses like this, when they are well-written as these are. I had to read this one multiple times before the rhythm of it came about for me.
Thanks so much for that, I needed the exercise.
Keep working out these little charms.


-wes

[h d e rushin]

thank you Westly for those kind comments my friend...dana

[emmajoy]

Seems you muddle and juggle language bound in handicraft and an elaborate thought process! Having looked to the thesaurus and my own inadequate thoughts, can only admire the artistry in certain areas of your phrasing: ' That's why our memories makes curves around the outer-garments of the poems you've dreamt; the fleshy, passionate parts will ooze out the girdled sides - and the muffin top, the soft yarn of flattery, will tuft to invertebrate and slither to the engines of our soul.'

You discover metaphors to die or dream of.. And, in a way - not ashamed to say so: am content
they hold a semblance of mystery. (If I dare add: this is a stellar performance of how to.. ) x

[h d e rushin]

I love you so much

[emmajoy]

In spite of me not understanding all you write, my friend?! You must be a saint. :) x

[Einstein Noodle]

intelligent, sexy use of language and extremely creative originality ..had to read several times ...gets better each time ... this is a poem that one can glean a line or two and be happy with the understanding of it ;) love the title..and its repetition .. looked up a bunch of words ma'am...so thank you so much for those ... a real treat to read and think about ... great lines .. to many to mention ... imagery is inspiring .. making my own way flying ... thanks for sharing .. really glad i didn't miss this one!
E.

[h d e rushin]

thank you my dear friend for those kind comments....dana

[Coyote Poetry]

I loved how you made the language come alive.
"My fixity drawings of spirit or the dead that sits on the promised
star placed wholesome between the linden trees will do."
I enjoyed the complete poem. The above lines. I did like. Thank you dear poet for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[h d e rushin]

thank you and happy holidays to you my friend....dana

[Coyote Poetry]

A wonderful poem and you are welcome Dana.