queen of hearts noir

lately i have very much enjoyed dipping my toes into a noir style. telling stories of strong women (and their companion for the night) in smokey cocktail bars, bumming cigarettes, playing cards and drinking whiskey with the boys.

so tell me a story about your favorite femme fatale!

http://i1303.photobucket.com/albums/ag151/minerva4243/Film_Noir_by_kidspy_zpslwbse3kf.jpg

make her a heart breaker, a name taker, a collector, a lover of love. whatever your black and white heart desires. just make it good!

http://i1303.photobucket.com/albums/ag151/minerva4243/TheGoddessMinerva%20poker_zpsdltziuwr.jpg

the rules:
-new writes please
-poetry or prose
-max 500 words
-collabs are welcome. just let me know who is involved.
-i'd prefer to keep the 'extreme content' flag away. so while i want sexy, i don't want pornographic.

if you'd like to get in on judging, let me know!

http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t623/curlycue23/klimt-judith1-1901_zpstvfukxyk.jpg

Judy Judy Judy

Femme Fatales are not just devils
Femme Fatales can also be angels

As was the bold Jewess
The beautiful widow Judith

Poor general Holofernes
He thought her his Mistress

Till that fatal night
With his sword she sliced

And took his head as a trophy
A gift for sleeping with the enemy

The lesson here for all you prudes
Is sometimes a girl has to do
What a girl has to do

      kiss the sleeping night


every time I cross trails with a dame like her, I realize I
could never be a woman. I haven’t got the guts for the job.
I’ve taken a bullet or two in those firefights, & I’ve got the
purple hearts to prove it.

…the night began at Bogart’s according to routine: get
drunk, stumble home, & pass out on the steps of the
ramshackle hotel where I maintained a one-room kingdom.
when she walked in, the joint lit up like searchlights in an
air raid.

for an hour with those killer eyes, I’d give her a dime & tell
her to keep the change. if I had a dime. I’d take a seat at her
poker table like every other lovesick Lothario. if she dealt
from the bottom of the deck, I’d need a monkey wrench to
spill her mechanics. when the showdown came, I couldn’t
beat a pair of deuces if I was holding all the aces.

she came over to me & bummed a smoke. don’t know if she
was attracted to my hound dog eyes or my two o’clock shadow
(yeah, it starts early for me.)

after a few peppermint spritzes, she snuggled real close & said,
‘you’re my pirate prince, I want you to take me home. I can’t be
alone on a pretty night like this.’

at her place, she pressed her lips against mine like she was the
inventor of kissing. our clothes were suddenly prisons from which
we made a desperate escape. it was about to get rudely intimate,
so the screen faded to black…

after a while, I gently untangled myself from her napping embrace.
I stood by the window as the moonlight caressed her sleeping
beauty like it was designed strictly for that purpose. of course, I
knew I was a shopworn interloper in this radiant neverland dream.
she’d be sober in the morning, & I’d just be a ragged hangover.

I hunched my collar & walked home in the rain, sharing brokedown
fairytale secrets with the lonesome moon…

Thanks for kicking it off snugglebuck and feddeler! Two fine entries!!

Redhead


In the brothel lounge five women sat.
Each had distinctive charms
I had to decide after a brief chat
Which should be in my arms.

I have a soft spot for red heads
Which eased my range of choice
One of which had slender legs
And a very sexy voice

We went to a private place
Exchanging names and kisses
When nude, a close embrace
Before getting down to bussiness

Before long I was smitten
By her curvy physique
The ways she would be ridden
And her sexual technique

When too soon our time was gone
And she was amply paid
I knew that I would soon be drawn
To go back to her side

Repeatedly I returned
To refresh our acquaintance
Contributing to what she earned
Trying to build an alliance

At last my savings were nearly spent
I asked her for a freebie
This led to an argument
She threw me out quite speedily

I have not seen her again
Perhaps I was unlucky
I suffered heart ache and pain
That femme fatale; the hussy

When she talks the stars themselves bow at her feet.
Her voice, smooth and low and hypnotic.
Everyone listens.
Her eyes on yours make you feel As though you caught fire in the dead of winter.
She can smile and the world will disappear.
She moves with the grace of a deity.
And for many she is.
She inspires devotion with a single touch.
And single laugh.
Men fall at her feet,
Lose their heads.
She has No desire for the men
With their filthy thoughts
And rough hands.
Who think of only one thing.
She rejects their advances but they get closer.
But being too close can have dire consequences.
She tires of the men who throw themselves at her beauty.
Her figure.
She moves with ease and skill.
They trip themselves to follow.
They trip each other  for her favour.
But she chooses another.
One with smooth hands and a soft voice.
With long hair and breasts.
Who men forget about easily.
Who women never envy.
And the men's minds turn to other things.
She takes her hand and leads her into a world of new adventures.
Of traveling and fighting.
And lazy days laying in bed together.
Of screaming and singing.
Of nights and days without rest.
The women need only each other to survive.
And they prove it when the world fights against them.

A FEW DRINKS WITH THE GIRLS

The city smells of danger.
Like a dollar bottle of perfume.
And this damn heat,
Clings to the body
Like a fungal overcoat.
No one is sleeping.
With white net curtains,
Fluttering upon open windows.
This bar has seen better days.
With it's watered down whiskey and headless brews.
And stench of sweat of horny young bucks,
Whose eyes explore my body,
behind long gulps of tepid beer,
If truth be told.
That is why I am here.
In this dismal place.
Unknown just another story waiting to be told.
I let them watch,
Hitching my skirt a little higher,
As i supped cheap gin.
From a white stained glass.
My soul wants danger,
To shred the ropes of conformity.
To rage against the system that so confines me.
This is for all the bastards that told me a life of luxury
was better than living a life.
i think his name is Georgio,
Italian or Greek defiantly of European descent,
He fucks me in the shimmering alley,
As steam pours from manhole covers.
He takes me against a dumpster.
That smells of pizza and garlic bread.
He is slow and methodical.
What he losses in technique,
Is more than made up for by youthful eagerness.
When we are both satisfied.
I kiss him on the cheek and whisper "thank you".
There is no guilt, no remorse,
No "see ya later".
As I sit in the limo.
Back to the rich prick of a husband,
With his sense of entitlement,
And his airs and graces of supremacy,
It almost makes me weep,
To watch wealth corrupt.
The compassion of man I once loved.
He meets me on the stairs.
"nice evening dear"
"Quiet"I say "the usual faces
with the usual gossip"
Plotting my next escape to freedom.
"why do you bother"he scowls
I just smile and shrug my shoulders.

keep the entries coming! loving them all so far. well done!

The first
Time I was out
To drink my frustrations
Away before heading home
The second sip of the third
Glass of cheap but efficacious vodka
From my position a tall slender
But well defined curvaceous dark figure stood
In front of the light
Stealing away the visage
Like a ghost silently screaming for attention
Cursing a spell of dark Nigerian Juju into the bar
Mocking the capabilities of Professor X’s abilities
All eyes in the room glued
The figure started moving forward
As I stole a much flawless gaze to what was now evolving
In to the 21st century version Helen of Troy but in even better shoes, Manalo Blahniks
Between her fingers ascended white fumes and shapeless clouds
That disappeared into thin air like Casper
The whole shebang was at a cessation
She took a sit and ordered a shot of cold ice tequila
SNAP!!!
Just like that everything returned to normal
All my senses were directed towards her person like a sniper’s bullet to a target
With every nerve in my body lusting for salvation in her
Triggering my feet to create a sequence of movement towards her direction
Igniting my mouth to say words I cannot reminisce
Before I knew it we were no longer exchanging words
Our tongues were locked in two merged arenas
Fortified by calcium structures
Battling for the pleasure of our bodies
Journeying through a sensational exotic and sensuous frenzy
Characterized by touching spanking
Caressing and squeezing
Forgetting
Between my pink and middle was my symbol of commitment on my finger
Temptation had swallowed me in to sin
As easily as Jonah had been swallowed by a whale
All I wanted was more, more and more
She had stolen my promise to my lover
And I was guilty for incitement and conspiracy
When we were through I calmly asked
Will I ever see you again?
She grabbed my head and whispered into my ear,
Sex is cursed by Marriage and commitment!
kissed me on my forehead
as she took off
my mind avowed FEMME FETALE

Crawlin' and Bawlin'

A late night at the bar
oh and he was holding court
his home away from home
and his table was his fort
he was busy telling tales
buying rounds for his friends
a glass broke, someone screamed
he could feel the cold north wind

she was nipped and tucked
in all the right places
wearing enough makeup
for two or three faces
loaded to the teeth
whoa and shooting from the hip
it was easy to see
she wasn't taking any lip
there was no doubt
she had found her calling
tonight the fur was gonna fly
he'd leave crawlin' and bawlin'

she fired straight from the heart
and every shot rang true
someone called 911
there was nothing they could do
he was down on his knees
begging her to listen
he starred down both barrels
of a woman with a mission

the juke box laid dying
slumped up against the wall
the bartender looked up and yelled
last call for alcohol
she picked up his wallet
tipped the waitress a buck
walked to her car, revved it up
and side swiped his truck

she was nipped and tucked
in all the right places
wearing enough makeup
for two or three faces
loaded to the teeth
whoa and shooting from the hip
it was easy to see
she wasn't taking any lip
there was no doubt
she had found her calling
tonight the fur was gonna fly
he'd leave crawlin' and bawlin'

oh! all these entries are just making this old girl smile! well done so far. keep them coming!

giving this a good old bump and grind!

[b]
KISS of THE CANARY

After coffee and chesterfields
John Dillinger fastened a much
respected '08 dillinger vest pocket
taut in the privacies of my red garter;
he then strolled across the cramped room
and gazed opportunistically out the cracked
window down below the seedy row of undiverse
speakeasys where men lost their souls to burdens and
booze while the caged bird ladies crooned beneath an endless
spotlight; something bluesy, something jazzy, something worthy
of heartache, of pleasure, of redemption, yet nothing could measure
the weight of my wounds bottomlessly rooted within the sultry of my voice
which stirred through the opaque air nor the single white virgin rose suspended
in my plush black hair for it was in that moment did John Dillinger felt an unhibited
despair plunging through his heart like a shot in the dark when his gaze seized the Gat

He was willing to take the bullet for me but he knew nothing of me, not my name, not
the complexities of the games toward broads and dames harboring some sort of fame
rousing men in their seats, forcing men to take to the passages of the redhot streets
trading in dignity and pride for an array of Gats, holding up banks, taking up
hostages, leaving them defenseless, somewhere to die; but the beguiling
man in the silk pinstripe suit who drapes honor beneath his countless
Fedoras draped a mink black stole around my trembling shoulders,
offered me an opposite seat, bought me a Gin and grinned while
the gangster cat with the Gat laid with his chest splayed a few
feet from our table as we conversed about prohibition, Miss
Carrie Nation, some place he'd like to call home but in the
end we settled for a 24 hour haven above a fourth story
clip joint where the night ended with my gams the
object of deception for a gangster's banker I was
to seduce then unfasten the dillinger and shoot.
[/b]

Tangerine

Maybe she loved too much.
Felt too much.

You never saw it
'til it was headed straight for you.

Tangerine, she is all they claim
With her eyes of night and lips as bright as flame

She walked the streets of smoky New Orleans
at psychotic midnight.

Black-hearted and bliss-fucked.
The gold enameled cigarette holder

and the fifty left in the hat
for the piano player.

Grey clouds, a slight stubble of shadow.
So beautiful it was painful.

His whiskey-kissed lips.
That hoarse patois curling like ribbon.

Taste me.
Moans like raindrops dripping onto the bed

and the golden echoes of saxophones
slipping down the black tongue of the street.

But her heart belongs to just one
Her heart belongs to tangerine

The way the words got lost in her mouth.
Honey-slow burn of union, footsteps clinking like ice.

Satin roses, stiletto dreams. Staccato kisses
and the slice of cold steel at her garters.

The night spread open in the window
as he spread her open beneath the humid stars.