Innamorati~or Girl As Italian Comedy of Immortal Errors

For Bard Constantine's Mind of the Immortal | Writing Contest | ~

If I told you

god played his fiddle during creation

would you believe my drunken revelry

in swirls of milky way skirts

with spidersilk pleats

entertaining

inebriated applause of 13 angels

around my javelin hip drops;

dare I tell you the seraphs are revelers?

 

I was there

from the onset of the applause

the scream of wings meeting against the spark

of

“Let there be Light!”

as Gabriel swilled from the collapsed center of a star

asking

“Why??! We love our dark, O Lord!”;

creation happens anyway

 

I was a forethought

a ticklish idea in god’s white forelock

he swept me from his halo

tossed my molten unshape into the fray

of his sycophantic winged things

who fell like rain

quickening my celestial mud

jolly good hermaphrodites with glory stains

weaving my sacral nerves like a cat’s cradle;

“Immortal Innamorati!” they named their toy well

 

So then the eons of whorish delights

cast in human mold

my center burning with the star from god’s neuron

what grand entertainment I provided

until god grew bored

and the angels found other playthings

leaving me to a mortal, human world

 

Inside my skull is a world no one can touch

or understand

my bones carry fluid with potential to go either way

I have been daughter, and lover, and killer and knight

a thousand uniform masks in my cave

dragging my days like an old woman a bundle of sticks on her back

grown more burdensome with every ten thousand years;

now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to bleed

 

Inside a singular skull

my soul batters at the chain of bones, and skin

as my life becomes more of a Commedia dell'arte

than a gift of the immortals

my operetta in soprano pitch

shattering my glass demons from the inside out

and I dare, I dare, scream

in my mad revelry

for the original lover

who made me in the sound of “Let There Be Light”

while angels protested, for good reason;

hey little fiddle, Lillith’s got the sizzle

and the bough broke over the loom

god jumped the gun, should have made him a son

on that too much time on the hand kind of afternoon

 

 

 

If I told you

god played his fiddle during creation

it would be a hell of

a sideways tilted

Big

Bang

Theory

No?

 

Finis

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

Author's Note

if you caught it, forgive me my double entendre indulgences~ I fully admit to being wicked~ =)~

Reviews

[patricia]

Loved the spidersilk pleats and the idea of seraph revellers
scream of wings against the spark of 'Let there be lights!' Superb!
collapsed center of a star...as always with your poetry I start to lose words to express the magic you conjure from that amazing mind of yours.
The idea of being a ticklish idea in gods white forelock was beautiful.
I loved...dragging my days like an old woman a bundle of sticks on her back..it melted my heart.
then the nursery rhyme rythms came like wabes and caught me up in the dance.
Thankyou as always for your very very special work.

[Andreisfree]

...well done & thank you for sharing...i was mesmerized from the start to the end of this poem...wow!

[.]

oh..feel like dancing round a fire..to a fiddlers tune!! Bravo..yet again..you manage to hypnotize us with a delicious write..shall we go to Heaven? I feel like I am already there!

[Tainted Ink]

Bella!! Breathtaking and exquisite!! You paint the perfect line with your vocabulary and I am a fan. Masterpiece!!

[Lachenille Papillion]

Midori mi no josei~the irony lies likes your words, eloquently closer to the truth then your surreality implies~ Brava as only you can be!

[MuSe Ampoule]

You certainly broke my class...left me shattered. Any remarks of like or love for this and your skill would seem dim in compairison to how I feel. You have a way and mastery with things that makes me drool.
"I was a forethought
a ticklish idea in god’s white forelock" just one of my favs! Bellissimo! Bravo! Muy bien!

[David W Moore III]

So first I thank the gods that you are disqualified from winning the book. That means I still have a chance. Whew. You don your armor to make war with the gods then sit down to a game of pick up sticks, no one realizing until you slide your katana deftly between to ribs that you're playing for keeps. There's so much contained by that armor... I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, it pushes you to write the most amazing things. On the other hand, I've grown to like you (at least the pixel you) and feel bad that life and it's swarm of locusts have decimated part of your fields. Just remember, for every dragon, there is a St. George (who says he has to be male?)

[Robin]

you ever watch a great fireworks show ? the perfect timing , the music in rhythm and then the grande finale - yeah like that

[arbitrary jane]

everyone has been highlighting favorite lines... and ... they're all just torched. every one burning...
but this one was the one for me:
'creation happens anyway"

... this has so many facets.
love the ending too, the coy question.
excellent write.

[w2de35657u687y4324rf]

The imagery here was unfathomable. You really slit the cerebellum of every God loving man out there with just the visual appetizers! As for the concept of the poem
I should go on to praise you on an even higher level, but I cannot dream of how that may be done. This was definitely a marvelous piece and
I am longing for another taste of your style. This shall go onto my favorites and I will be sending a friend request. You've done a beautiful job with drawing an audience.
SAS

[LA Lorena]

You my dear Selene, are a riot. A mad genius, the Einstein of WC (altho admittedly much more attractive). You are wicked indeed, but wickedly fun. Keep em coming!