bella la bestia, *SECOND EDIT*

[Pseudomuse]

bella la bestia

to Trisha

-

she is every mans renaissance woman

with red cape and claws

°

she turns the word on the tongue

and spits the wit guillotine-wise

glimmering fantasy k-night fables

are woven with real world tragedies

°

she revels all,

nimble fingers knitting, clinking,

dark ink splotching on

parched-manuscripts,

the written word

°

music

she is music to my ears

a symphony, sweet not sickly

the melody a lyrical representation of inner inclination

rumble of Hellenic muses

°

music

she is so soft in sharp corners, so jaded in others

she is beautiful to me

°

beethoven and mozart would be proud

[Ramona]

The second stanza is just gorgeous.

"she revels all, dark ink splotching on
threaded manuscripts and the written word"
On seems like kind of an awkward word to end a line on. Perhaps you could give from "dark ink" to "manuscripts" its own line.
And the last three stanzas are just beautiful. I love this.

[Robin]

Pretty words, but they didn't quite connect. When I read this, my mind just glazed over.

Perhaps connecting your ideas a little better would improve this piece. I got it, but just barely. It doesn't really express any idea, simply describes somebody.

Of course, you could always turn it into a Dante type thing. Like a ballad or something. That would be sweet.

[cry,crayola.]

"fantasy k-night"
that was cool. i liked it lots. : )

i agree with robin, totally. your points just need to be more connected and flow a little eaiser. if you got more indepth with this and made it more meaningful (not that it means nothing,..... it just lacks a certain emotion i think this could hold) this would be amazing. i like the idea you have.

btw, what does bella la bestia mean? just wondering.....

[Pseudomuse]

it went under a re-write...so I'm now posting the editing version. It actually started out as just an attempted to get words down on one of my dear friends. Bella la bestia translates from the italian: beauty the beast or beauty is the beast. Now the poem is technically broken up in parts.

Tootles, PM