Page:
DUP Poem of the Month Hall of Fame
NOVEMBER 2016
whore of exquisite sorrow
she sees things that were never imagined.
she witnesses poetry that I have not written.
in the deepest night, when even the stars are not
awake, she lies in bed with her eyes closed & her
mouth open, because she tongues the air & believes
that she is tasting me.
I, a knight in tattered armor, am there, penetrating
her tender barrier with the vile rush of desire, & the
breeze that the ocean blows through her open window
cannot extinguish the heat of our lovemaking.
in my days of monsoons & desert winds, I’ve walked on
the dark side of beauty, & I knew not where my passion
would take me. when I needed sustenance, I drank
whiskey; when I needed comfort, I embraced harlots.
but she taught me that love begets sex in a way that sex
does not beget love. she beseeches me to hold tightly to
those transgressions that embellish my stories, though
my art remains unrequited:
‘the whores that are in your heart, keep them there,
for they are the martyrs of your poetry.
and your poems are whores.’
of all that is beautiful, the hideous things
are the most exquisite…
John Feddeler Published 21st November 2015
Forum post: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/222058-whore-of-exquisite-sorrow/
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/15/#380216
whore of exquisite sorrow
she sees things that were never imagined.
she witnesses poetry that I have not written.
in the deepest night, when even the stars are not
awake, she lies in bed with her eyes closed & her
mouth open, because she tongues the air & believes
that she is tasting me.
I, a knight in tattered armor, am there, penetrating
her tender barrier with the vile rush of desire, & the
breeze that the ocean blows through her open window
cannot extinguish the heat of our lovemaking.
in my days of monsoons & desert winds, I’ve walked on
the dark side of beauty, & I knew not where my passion
would take me. when I needed sustenance, I drank
whiskey; when I needed comfort, I embraced harlots.
but she taught me that love begets sex in a way that sex
does not beget love. she beseeches me to hold tightly to
those transgressions that embellish my stories, though
my art remains unrequited:
‘the whores that are in your heart, keep them there,
for they are the martyrs of your poetry.
and your poems are whores.’
of all that is beautiful, the hideous things
are the most exquisite…
John Feddeler Published 21st November 2015
Forum post: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/222058-whore-of-exquisite-sorrow/
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/15/#380216
DECEMBER 2016
Our Daily Bread
Movement molds me
a hazel iris in a socket
surrounded by the skin
of water irrigating
its armored sediment
This stream migrating
toward the river, kited
leaves reeling downward
cottonwood diagonally
skyscraper confetti
from the roof of trees
a parade of Autumn’s
Summer victory
Stones stacked in unison
emerge from the silt
an unnatural balance
strong as the hands
that formed these sentinels
of gravitational defiance
I’m a carousel princess
at the end of your gaze
you, paying homage to me
before the fish you hooked
I watch you bow in prayer
give thanks for the gift
of your daily bread
You glance up, smile
rolling the fishing line
knowing I won’t partake
of its delicate flesh
but will turn my head
write of it instead
write of your skilled
removal of hook
your compassionate
appreciation for Life
Suddenly the sun trips
falls deep into the forest
Our last evening together
a panic rises inside me
you read it across my face
set your basket on the bank
position yourself behind me
pull me against you in silence
I will miss the metronome
of your heart beneath
your flanneled music
your woodsy scent …
But we don’t say it, we say
nothing, that is our magic
our shield against meaning
and previous experience
We need no worded promise
no guarantee I’ll soon return
no man-made definitions
to label what we’ve found
You pull me up, draw me tightly
into your mouth, exchange breath
entwine my hair like fishing line
give thanks for what we have
I’m a WWII photograph, the nurse
bent perfectly backwards in a kiss –
I’m every woman a man has Loved
I’m every princess that ever lived.
‘Aho’
Ahavati - Published 8th November 2016
Forum post: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/254456-our-daily-bread/
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/15/#380216
Our Daily Bread
Movement molds me
a hazel iris in a socket
surrounded by the skin
of water irrigating
its armored sediment
This stream migrating
toward the river, kited
leaves reeling downward
cottonwood diagonally
skyscraper confetti
from the roof of trees
a parade of Autumn’s
Summer victory
Stones stacked in unison
emerge from the silt
an unnatural balance
strong as the hands
that formed these sentinels
of gravitational defiance
I’m a carousel princess
at the end of your gaze
you, paying homage to me
before the fish you hooked
I watch you bow in prayer
give thanks for the gift
of your daily bread
You glance up, smile
rolling the fishing line
knowing I won’t partake
of its delicate flesh
but will turn my head
write of it instead
write of your skilled
removal of hook
your compassionate
appreciation for Life
Suddenly the sun trips
falls deep into the forest
Our last evening together
a panic rises inside me
you read it across my face
set your basket on the bank
position yourself behind me
pull me against you in silence
I will miss the metronome
of your heart beneath
your flanneled music
your woodsy scent …
But we don’t say it, we say
nothing, that is our magic
our shield against meaning
and previous experience
We need no worded promise
no guarantee I’ll soon return
no man-made definitions
to label what we’ve found
You pull me up, draw me tightly
into your mouth, exchange breath
entwine my hair like fishing line
give thanks for what we have
I’m a WWII photograph, the nurse
bent perfectly backwards in a kiss –
I’m every woman a man has Loved
I’m every princess that ever lived.
‘Aho’
Ahavati - Published 8th November 2016
Forum post: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/254456-our-daily-bread/
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/15/#380216
JANUARY 2017
Terra Firma
Mystified, I sit. At the edge of wrinkles, underneath
crushed floors abstract steps to tempered moon
bowed in blind rhapsody, thinking of you
twisted vines of yesteryear tow around roots
feathered sadness: desires and needs
breeding questions, beginnings...endings.
Back to the gate, to the tree, to the rock
back to the sea, to the flame, to the light
back to Two Black Crows raking the sky
preaching silence; caw, caw, caw
quasi-steel, blood and ice
i lOve yoUi loVe Youi lovE yoU
Letters Unwritten dance in a box
ghost papered skin, peel'd
whiter than white; dust, cherished recede.
Swallowing universe and its freckled dreams
crest'd carvings in folds of sleep.
Back to emerald hills and stoned gods
back to the pearls and fat swine
back to the sons in womb-less whores
back to the edge, sanity at shores.
Winter's breadth under each golden leaf
curled around solace, Prophet Baal within Oak Trees
differences indifference in a House On Sticks,
wet shade of blue splattered at feet.
Knowing the unknown, onward
mercurial gin ink flows; through this heart
through these hands henna’d burnt red
with an armful of daisies
and a cup; half-full
a toast to Van Gogh’s moonlight
peer’d from the curtain of night
watching.
Stars...Terra Firma.
Writer's Note: Two Black Crows(The Anatomy of Nothing), Unwritten Letter, A House on sticks, The Oak Tree are references from earlier works.
Written by Vee (Rina)
Published 9th December 2016
Forum post: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/257250-terra-firma/
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/15/#380216
Terra Firma
Mystified, I sit. At the edge of wrinkles, underneath
crushed floors abstract steps to tempered moon
bowed in blind rhapsody, thinking of you
twisted vines of yesteryear tow around roots
feathered sadness: desires and needs
breeding questions, beginnings...endings.
Back to the gate, to the tree, to the rock
back to the sea, to the flame, to the light
back to Two Black Crows raking the sky
preaching silence; caw, caw, caw
quasi-steel, blood and ice
i lOve yoUi loVe Youi lovE yoU
Letters Unwritten dance in a box
ghost papered skin, peel'd
whiter than white; dust, cherished recede.
Swallowing universe and its freckled dreams
crest'd carvings in folds of sleep.
Back to emerald hills and stoned gods
back to the pearls and fat swine
back to the sons in womb-less whores
back to the edge, sanity at shores.
Winter's breadth under each golden leaf
curled around solace, Prophet Baal within Oak Trees
differences indifference in a House On Sticks,
wet shade of blue splattered at feet.
Knowing the unknown, onward
mercurial gin ink flows; through this heart
through these hands henna’d burnt red
with an armful of daisies
and a cup; half-full
a toast to Van Gogh’s moonlight
peer’d from the curtain of night
watching.
Stars...Terra Firma.
Writer's Note: Two Black Crows(The Anatomy of Nothing), Unwritten Letter, A House on sticks, The Oak Tree are references from earlier works.
Written by Vee (Rina)
Published 9th December 2016
Forum post: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/257250-terra-firma/
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/15/#380216
FEBRUARY, 2017
be a poem
I conjure a love poem
let it be written in the constellations
the story of me, you, us
let each word beat out our emotions
keeping rhythm within our hearts,
with the ocean's waves
may we speak it in unison
as our souls unite
intertwining around each other
dancing with the universe
a ballet of poetry
let us recite our adoration for Mother Earth
cherry blossoms in the spring
the birth of a brand new human being
the deep forested paths
where our souls wander and take breath
put on the starlight today
shine for all you are
within and without
let your third eye ease open
blink past the tears
see the beauty of life
be a poem and rejoice
as we live our poetry
always on point in the universe
living out a moment
rejoicing in the now
I conjure a love poem
let it be written in the constellations
the story of me, you, us
*author's note inspired by Ahavati and a comment she made on her poem The Luckiest*
Written by crimsin (Unveiling)
Published 27th November 2016
Forum Post: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/256216-be-a-poem/
Comment Thread: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/15/#380216
be a poem
I conjure a love poem
let it be written in the constellations
the story of me, you, us
let each word beat out our emotions
keeping rhythm within our hearts,
with the ocean's waves
may we speak it in unison
as our souls unite
intertwining around each other
dancing with the universe
a ballet of poetry
let us recite our adoration for Mother Earth
cherry blossoms in the spring
the birth of a brand new human being
the deep forested paths
where our souls wander and take breath
put on the starlight today
shine for all you are
within and without
let your third eye ease open
blink past the tears
see the beauty of life
be a poem and rejoice
as we live our poetry
always on point in the universe
living out a moment
rejoicing in the now
I conjure a love poem
let it be written in the constellations
the story of me, you, us
*author's note inspired by Ahavati and a comment she made on her poem The Luckiest*
Written by crimsin (Unveiling)
Published 27th November 2016
Forum Post: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/256216-be-a-poem/
Comment Thread: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/15/#380216
March, 2017
Saint Just, Cornwall
at night the granite rises in the pastures,
old stones stacked in chronological order
bones are found everywhere: the badger skull,
the flake of rib, moonlight growing in the ash trees
and the Druid oaks.
this was a hard year.
some boats never reached harbor
but surprises come in waves,
each day the sun breaks the layered clouds
the old men find their lost spirits,
the children gather heather from the fields
and the flies eat the sleep from the animal's eyes.
(september 1978)
Written by onefiftysix
Forum Post:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/205339-saint-just-cornwall/
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/30/#383537
Saint Just, Cornwall
at night the granite rises in the pastures,
old stones stacked in chronological order
bones are found everywhere: the badger skull,
the flake of rib, moonlight growing in the ash trees
and the Druid oaks.
this was a hard year.
some boats never reached harbor
but surprises come in waves,
each day the sun breaks the layered clouds
the old men find their lost spirits,
the children gather heather from the fields
and the flies eat the sleep from the animal's eyes.
(september 1978)
Written by onefiftysix
Forum Post:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/205339-saint-just-cornwall/
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/30/#383537
April, 2017 - Daniel Christensen
May, 2017 -
you idolise me today but soon enough you'll grow tired of kneeling
i
the empire of temptation
defied gravity
planets aligned
strung by locks of burgundy
asteroids plunged from her shoulders
pleiades eyes
shot like comets through defences
the core of my force field agape
holes spluttered butterflies
spawned from cosmic clouds
ii
i lay beneath her
transfixed by the depth of majesty
her galactic reign over night
i did not fall
i did not grow weary till daybreak
shielded by the blood of dawn
we faded into light and dreamt of taurus
gravity could not stop
the empire of temptation
Alexander Case (case 28)
Published 25th February 2017
Comment Thread: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/30/#393213
Facebook Link:
https://www.facebook.com/DUpoetry/photos/a.10155022867518665.1073741836.148635498664/10155215709003665/?type=3¬if_t=like¬if_id=1494090444893567
you idolise me today but soon enough you'll grow tired of kneeling
i
the empire of temptation
defied gravity
planets aligned
strung by locks of burgundy
asteroids plunged from her shoulders
pleiades eyes
shot like comets through defences
the core of my force field agape
holes spluttered butterflies
spawned from cosmic clouds
ii
i lay beneath her
transfixed by the depth of majesty
her galactic reign over night
i did not fall
i did not grow weary till daybreak
shielded by the blood of dawn
we faded into light and dreamt of taurus
gravity could not stop
the empire of temptation
Alexander Case (case 28)
Published 25th February 2017
Comment Thread: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/30/#393213
Facebook Link:
https://www.facebook.com/DUpoetry/photos/a.10155022867518665.1073741836.148635498664/10155215709003665/?type=3¬if_t=like¬if_id=1494090444893567
June, 2017
The seven rites of wholeness/4/ Voices of the ancestors
Trees are portals
From their roots
weeps the earth
Sentinental hymns
Cadavers
of ancient moss
neath my feet
Dream weaver
sheds the light
filtered through
these leaves
From old bones
I plant these seeds
Hieroglyphic skies
birds draw
emerald lines
Wind combes
ashen
colored clouds
Sun is
a kite
sailing
Through
open winged
horizon
AEMelia564 (Y)
Published 18th May 2017
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/30/#397065
Facebook Link:
https://www.facebook.com/DUpoetry/photos/a.10155022867518665.1073741836.148635498664/10155299141288665/?type=3&theater
The seven rites of wholeness/4/ Voices of the ancestors
Trees are portals
From their roots
weeps the earth
Sentinental hymns
Cadavers
of ancient moss
neath my feet
Dream weaver
sheds the light
filtered through
these leaves
From old bones
I plant these seeds
Hieroglyphic skies
birds draw
emerald lines
Wind combes
ashen
colored clouds
Sun is
a kite
sailing
Through
open winged
horizon
AEMelia564 (Y)
Published 18th May 2017
Comment Thread:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/30/#397065
Facebook Link:
https://www.facebook.com/DUpoetry/photos/a.10155022867518665.1073741836.148635498664/10155299141288665/?type=3&theater
July 2017
Alone
I have been unhappy for so long
that I wonder if there's any happiness left
in the world, for me. When you were sixteen
and they told you that your life was just beginning,
that if you ended it now you'd be drawing
the curtain on a show full of riches, excitement,
and life, you knew they were lying, of course,
but probably not meaning to. The stitches
come undone; the methadone of food,
TV, a little music here and there, and the illusion
of companionship is growing dull
until it is only ineffective. I am here for you, my son,
said the fictional god, and I listened
as best as I could for a while.
The_Silly_Sibyl (Jack Thomas Heslop)
Published 20th May 2017
Comment Thread: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/45/
Facebook Link:
https://www.facebook.com/DUpoetry/photos/a.10155022867518665.1073741836.148635498664/10155402798918665/?type=3&theater
Alone
I have been unhappy for so long
that I wonder if there's any happiness left
in the world, for me. When you were sixteen
and they told you that your life was just beginning,
that if you ended it now you'd be drawing
the curtain on a show full of riches, excitement,
and life, you knew they were lying, of course,
but probably not meaning to. The stitches
come undone; the methadone of food,
TV, a little music here and there, and the illusion
of companionship is growing dull
until it is only ineffective. I am here for you, my son,
said the fictional god, and I listened
as best as I could for a while.
The_Silly_Sibyl (Jack Thomas Heslop)
Published 20th May 2017
Comment Thread: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/9204/45/
Facebook Link:
https://www.facebook.com/DUpoetry/photos/a.10155022867518665.1073741836.148635498664/10155402798918665/?type=3&theater
