Black Poetry : Her Water Into Wine

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by Tha-Emissary, Apr 6, 2008.

  1. Tha-Emissary

    Tha-Emissary Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    She sits in my lap
    Her base smooth like glass
    Her intentions clear, but I won’t ferment
    Still she offers to kiss
    My grapes that aren’t ripe
    Aren’t ready to be picked by pristine hands
    Yet she harvests anyway in secret
    Pulls fruit from the limbs of my lips
    Only to find there are thorns
    Red Pains
    Ice Water
    But she doesn’t cut the vine
    Only she sits on the pavement tasting
    Her sour juices that fall into her hands
    While the vines grows longer
    Into my mind to make me recall
    Crops overtime
    Where Beautiful was not the many harvested fruits of the vine,
    But beautiful were the years of tears which turned
    Water into Wine
     
  2. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    my my my i took off into this maze and taste the wine made by water
    u out did ya self here.............
     
  3. PoeticShae

    PoeticShae Active Member MEMBER

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    Greetings

    I like your wordplay in this piece, nice flow.
     
  4. watzinaname

    watzinaname Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Through years of tender care, what was once bitter can be aged into the sweetest wine. Loved the metaphor and the message, you strategically pose words to showcase beauty.
     
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