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Oh, seize the satyr by his throat, dancing mythical matador! Burning words like a black cigar, the edge of your life orange hot and fragrant wisps a cape unfurled. Waltz the precipice matador! The reeling black your paramour brushes by, you step aside, twirl swirling yourself into the dance my tragic, graceful matador, a trampled silken flower gored, our romance seeping in the sand. |
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"a trampled silken flower gored,
our romance seeping in the sand." wow! what an explanation for a love gone wrong (and have we not all had them!) I wouldnt touch it...think it does very well....... Rewarded 4
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For me, Bill, this is very very fine. All the outer and inner lines' rhymes work beautifully, abba etc., but the one I liked most is "matador...black cigar" - perfect for what the rest of the poem conjures up: the erotic excitement of a bullring. No wonder you can't do anything more with this - it's just right.
I immediately feel in this "Blood and Sand" with Tyrone Power, Linda Darnell, Rita Hayworth - he playing with the fire of a temptress, her "silken flower gored...", and I catch a bit of Hemingway's love of the bloody, macho ring.
I sense the poem as a brave introspection of the poet, the matador, dancing with danger, "cape unfurled..." And his dallianced dance with that illicit "romance" ending (maybe) and "seeping into the sand."
Nice work. The whole thing roils and boils around itself, its images thick as blood. Ole!
Lad. Rewarded 8
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Muchas gracias, mi amigo...
I'll have to check out the movie you mention, and, yes, it's been a dream of mine to see a bullfight. The artistry, the danger. You know, it's really the only echo left of the Roman Coliseum. Thanks again.
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ladydwarf
December 2, 2007
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