It's hard to find outstanding poetry. You know -poetry that STANDS OUT from the heaving sea of poets all writing about subjects pertinent to them, but alien to the rest of humanity.
Stop right here.
Victoria Selene Skye Deme. That's four names. Most of us have three at most, but with all this talent, Selene (as she's known to prefer)surely needs that extra bit to contain the load of creative talent that she has at her disposal. Poetry? Yes it is, but wait -it's poetry for people who don't like poetry.
You'll find nothing pretentious here, nothing boring or stale or rehashed. What you will find is the surreal, the dark, the warped reflection, the biting satire, the reborn myth and legend that we forgot when we cast those things aside in exchange for video games and reality TV.
Don't believe me? Wrap your mind around this excerpt from the poem Shells:
I surface
fingerprints on the screen
I've clocked in
searching for my killer
soft soled shoes leave the imprint of myths across uninspiring tiles
and there
above the city
life surges in mercury
encases me at his mercy
his dreams, in doe sinew, dip under
over
sewing a new hyde into my hips;
he will do unimaginable things to the shell
not understanding that I have learned
that my carapace
is not me
Selene's world is biography dipped in myth, lined with razor blades and drenched in that darkness that is prevalent in all true fairy tales, that truth that the world is filled with monsters that feed on the human spirit. Take this excerpt from Low Lying Clouds In a Pearl Colored Skye:
Blue eyes glancing off red poppies
the dead girl beside the soldier
so white in her naked display
her throat an open dream left unfulfilled;
she was a singer
he was her lover
her killer
in that town
in that year
of 1968
the two were interchangeable
that love thing
that thrill kill thing
We left the dead girl in the field
the poppies sighed
was it relief?
I think so
and the soldier was kind enough to remove his bloody gloves
before he took my hand
and walked me under clouds
back to the monsters of Bone Woods
Selene has a bizarre way of masking horrifying events behind the beauty of her words. One has to perform a double take, take a closer look and realize the brutality in between the eloquence of her phrases. Her purpose is not to confuse the reader as some poets are wont to do, but at the same time she doesn't dumb down her writing for the sake of those who will undoubtedly scratch their heads in stupefied wonderment.
I could go on and on. (This is not a small book, by the way. Worth every cent) But rather than that, I will simply say that I am a fan, and would recommend this collection to anyone. Yes, even to those who do not read poetry. Selene is too talented to ignore. Take the plunge, and you will see why...
