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[brodch01]

la donna piu bella persa

she follows
to the impotent desert
lusty thirst wrenching her taste,
grasps his
plummeting veil
as he slips swift to heaven’s waste

she follows
to the bitter brink
searching the scuppernong’s savor,
reclines upon
the whetted blade
abiding delicate bombycid’s labor

linger still
drive down asunder
bear blast a parting crimson wave
my ablest emotion
stalls the didder heart
and she lays upon my tongue a slave

[brodch01]

upped...

[~BLUEPRINT~]

to be honest...but its just IMO...i dont like your style of poetry...i tried to adjust and be open to it...BUT I just dont like it and maybe I am a jerk....but maybe thats why i crit you so hard sometimes....im just not feeling this style at all....but keep doing you and be easy....no rating......

[brodch01]

fair enough man... like you said before, i appreciate the honesty... i write in a few different styles, so when you see something later hit me again...

[Immaculate2k3]

........................................ ........................................ ...


that's what i want to say.. for once i understand what blueprint said when he crit my work about being too lofty in my words that it gave my work a shield... that made it hard to understand...

Your work does the same it seems that only you can understand the poem that's why i can't say i like this piece maybe that's what bprint is trying to tell you?

because i can't understand who she is besides mother... do u mean the holy mother?? and who is he?? and why the words ... u see only you can understand it
also it would help to explain what la donna piu bella persa is not all of us know evey other language..

[Don Savant]

immac....man where you been....come back to us brother..come backkkkkkk

[brodch01]

For Immac and anyone else who wants me to explain my thoughts here - otherwise dont waste your time reading this... the idea with the first two stanzas here is to portray a woman who will physically place herself in contradictory situations (shes thirsty… and follows to the desert, her aspirations toward faith end in an ethical wasteland, thoughts of scuppernongs or sweet grapes lead to bitterness, and bombycid or silk worm softness finds her on a blade) without introducing implications of a sexual relationship. The man who she follows to this place as a friend ignores her platonic devotion, bringing the path she has opened crashing down on himself. The sexual imagery only begins in the last three lines, with her body spread on his tongue. In the end, then, when their relationship has become sexual, it is the fighting and not the fu*king which destroys their friendship; that is, it is the image of voice dominating the image of physicality that ends the poem... For those of you who figured this out and didnt like the poem anyway, my fault for wasting your time... stay up

[RightSideDark]

actually, dispite the previous comments, I like this one. I'll set props when I can again at 24 hours. Keep it up.

[brodch01]

good looks...