1
la mia vita
nuova
(dolce stil nuovo)
POEM
BY C
DEAN
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la mia vita
nuova
(dolce stil nuovo)
POEM BY C
DEAN
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fp: The Virgin's Suitors Praying before the Rods in the Temple “Giotto (di Bondone) c1305
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PUBLISHERS
INTRODUCTIO
N
Ah this la mia
vita nuova be a
hymn to a she no painting of
she ast a divinity or a poesy
to spiritualize ones sexuality
but a glorification of the
desire she doth inspire pure
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femininity exactly what
Nature doth require all
women want to be desired
not turned into some idolatry
for worship fromst afar but
the panting breath to caress
the flesh of she with eyes of
fire to burn the soul of she
with desire the pounding
heart the turgid flesh that be
the homage that doth she thee
enmesh that doth Reason
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reject that be antithetical to
lusts irrationality desires
lethal influence that doth
ennoble the she for she be
Natures lifes repository
intellect doth this poesy
show be only as some
poets show that shows they
be in their head andst only
show they their lusts
passion do not know for
this la mia vita nuova
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be a hymn to Eros in
melodic lines the lusts beat
out in alliterations harmony
thru which the flesh turgid
glows with the beating lines
the beating blood doth flow
where Reason doth depart
the lusting soul where lust
be but the only thing
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PREFACE
With words so cleverly wrought
writ here be thoughts upon desires
inspired by that she that hath to thy
flesh lust bought the lesson taught
be desires not kill but their source
sought andst embraced this precious
ware to aspire that fire that be thy
guide to prepare thee for goals higher
beyond the snares that tightly bound
thee fromst the pleasure of desires
fires andst thru desire beyond the fire
freedoms realms await thee to thy
la mia nuova vita
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To thee not fromst a book of memory
but fromst the lived experience now
that thee doth fire this imagination of
I that write I out with wit in
words rubrica of my new life that
will frame thee that doth pour out
now no copy but feelings real the
essence of the soul of I whenst
Eros with his dart didst this heart
tear apart that with words fit for
their part each words bears the
essence of my heart andst this work
be no smaller copy but the full
complete wonders that each words
doth paint that be the wit of my
complaint writ
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At first sight Eros gave I the shot
that my heart didst pierce whenst she
about 9 I do of she see clad in
crimson cloth andst thenst am I like
a Muscouite slave that doth suffer
unto she a tyranny deep andst
profound that whenst do I breathe
now out but the blood of the wound
in this heart of I not I do feel like
some with deep wit Apparuit iam
beatitude vestra but desires flame
at the form that fate decreed the lust
of my flesh to feed andst Reason
flees for like Cavalcanti said Love
be but irrationality my animal sprite
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Nine years since she didst see I with
salutations no gentilissima to I now
see I at the fourth hour of the night
with hallucinations of she babblings of
the mind gone the sense of I lust doth
fight Reason andst sense to weave
around I desires fence seeth I a
rainbowed coloured cloud andst she
how the wit of I canst praise with no
choycest words lack I to say she
clothed in crimson cloth naked Ohh
babblings hear I Ego domius tuus to
my ear crazed murmuring Vide cor tuum
ast she doth eat the heart of I beheld
by? Reason finds no sense needeth not
I other poets response for the true
meaning for all they do is ponce
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At this hour the thoughts of I be
on that face of she pure desire
resideths in the animal spirit of I
which doth flame which naught canst
impede andst for sure the urges I do
endure the repression of which I do
distaine for desires be but not a pain
for grow strong not frail I andst
this desire fromst friend desired not
I to conceal andst Reasons council
do I shun to let desires the flesh of
I to overrun for desires doth over
I rule which the face of doth reveal
to those that ask to whom hath
desire undone smile I andst have
done
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Andst still in the mind of I gaze I on
she that day at prayers where now still
feel I those urgings ast now still
looketh I at she in my minds eye andst
see that other she andst both hast me
undone with desires fires no need I to
screen the truth for both do in lust orbit
centre I about them I do owe the lusts
of I do flow andst in the flesh of I
do show no need I to Holyfy she with
words of such sublimity ast to call
she my beatitude to purify the lusts of
I to hide she behind the other the
other of equal name for which do I
invent words of rhyme for each to
praise the dart that peierc’d my heart by
each
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Now too I still with desire aflame seek
I too immortalize the name of she andst
sing the world of her fame that it may
down the ages ring andst thru all time
whenst it be a great desire for poets a name
to name their desires but name she for that
name or whenst poets too to sing of their
passions fire it be she that takes the glory
with pride andst their rhymes do ring out
in rattling lines into which they their souls
do bring the words afire with melodies
andst attire their tales of lust that n’er
fails thus no need do I to write some
pretentious serventese to glorify my wit for
e’en with the appellation of the greatest 60
beauties to take the womens form it
wouldst be she whose name without
wonderment the first place wouldst adorn
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Oh if all didst see she that be fair
that doth evoke desires flames in all
that doth see she thenst they wouldst
say this she be not a women but
Eros personified in their eyes
bright with light a form no sculptor
can devise or e’en the poet to eulogize
or e’en beyond the philosopher her
charms to syllogize all paintings
wouldst be but a disguise a mere
vaile that her dazzle no paint couldst
impart for she be but beyond the
artists or poets art andst so I on
my part I do convey the ineffability
of she with this poem that begins
with Oh
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But still I cannot still the thoughts
of she andst all I hast said of she
be inadequacies of the wit of I So
the desires of I put down I fromst
the quill of I with these first words
to start telling the beating of my
heart Lust holds me in its grasp
andst I doth willingly succumb to
its sovereignty caught in the light of
the gems of she with many facets
fine which do the flesh to boil andst
too burn to incline Ahh for that she
I now do pine for hast now learned
I how much of life beheld I in that
spell of she for only they that
knowst lust canst know what I say
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Thenst didst she her last breath to
expire on the 9th of the day the month
the year but weep I no tear for to
weep wouldst be but selfish of I to
mourn a loss but no loss I feel for
she be with I in my mind alive she
who awakes the soul of I that now
lives I in tune with the Animal
spirit in I for desires are but what
Nature doth desire andst in the
desire of she e’en now sing I with
fervent voyce andst in life rejoice in
the plan writ in Natures book she
Oh she still now her image nay her
self lives in I andst gives me food
to desire alive with my flesh on fire
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But whenst now doth come on this
day about the 9th hour she fromst the
mind of I doth materialise andst
see I she haloed in desires fires
andst gladly do I those fires
embrace andst glory in this desire
for she that doth my flesh over take
with heated sighs andst tears of joy
the eyes of I not ringed with purple
reddish but the hues of delight andst
repent not these base delights or
wish to overthrow but show in poesy
this desire that be the companion of
I that wraps it arms around my
flesh that no such bliss my art
cannot descrie that giveth life to I
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To some pilgrims I didst see will
write I in passing wit some thoughts
of she that may help those on their path
to impart to those some wisdoms light
though it may be dim do not say I
repress thy desires dont say I to
entertaine the infliction of pain whenst
thee finds thy self lusting for the
storms of desires fires be but Natures
way andst what be Natures way say
I must be the planned way with
desires repressed thee but lives a living
death andst out of harmony with thy
nature into madness thee willst creep to
end thy days in nightmares sleep to
wither in mental paine no joy to gaine
but hell I do tell
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Ahh to two gracious ladies upon
request some poems shallst send I
inspired by she not Apollos ordered
tunes but the dithyrambics of
Dionysus andst for once where I
canst in agreement with that bard
that wrote that Comedy with I may
say poor wit we both at last agree
that she be beyond the intellect
beyond Reasons grasp e’en that of
Aristotle whose says his intellect
be before the suns be weak so I
send these two ladies fair to fire
their desires not of Reasons light
but lusts burning bright andst to
Posey write but not for thy sight
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But alas take ear all this Posey
doth not come near to it be but be
doggerel in its attempt to express she
these words writ fail to register my
desires for she for volumes need it be
but I fail I fail no talent hast I to
looketh into the eyes of she andst
paint my oblations in words that be
not fit for passions that hast the
flesh lit thus read here thee the
failure of my wit andst feel my woe
with my sorrow at my ineptitude for
all that I hath given be but straw
ast doth say that mystic sage so dear
pilgrim I willst depart till my art
be up to my heart to describe la mia
nuova vita
