Submissions by JohnFeddeler
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
My poems are blue collar; they work hard.
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Jan 2018 8:57am
18th Jan 2018 8:57am
yeah, i got your note
yeah, i got your note, thanks
who am i talking to...you're gone...long gone...
but, hell, i don't blame you for wanting to run away
from this crummy apartment on the corner of
Ramshackle st. & SucksBigTime blvd. .....
if i took all the good pieces of my past,
stitched them together, i wouldn't have a rag big
enough to blow my nose with
couple drinks'll put me to sleep tonight...
hey, that heart you took with you, just
drop it in the nearest garbage can...
yeah, i got your note,
i nailed it to the...
who am i talking to...you're gone...long gone...
but, hell, i don't blame you for wanting to run away
from this crummy apartment on the corner of
Ramshackle st. & SucksBigTime blvd. .....
if i took all the good pieces of my past,
stitched them together, i wouldn't have a rag big
enough to blow my nose with
couple drinks'll put me to sleep tonight...
hey, that heart you took with you, just
drop it in the nearest garbage can...
yeah, i got your note,
i nailed it to the...
#suicide
#confessional
3054 reads
20 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
27th Dec 2017 1:08pm
27th Dec 2017 1:08pm
French for caprice
rattle (7/17)
a story is just a story, I figure.
a passion documented in the heart, that goes untitled.
I've been there.
so have you.
kobieta (5/17)
sometimes I tell her things: war & whiskey & whores of another no-one.
& sometimes the silence between us is the deep well of sorrow, where
we wonder how we became the sanctuary for this stranger's heart.
fault & creature (5/17)
Once I pulled her from the river by her wet fur.
it was in the brazen music of thunder...
a story is just a story, I figure.
a passion documented in the heart, that goes untitled.
I've been there.
so have you.
kobieta (5/17)
sometimes I tell her things: war & whiskey & whores of another no-one.
& sometimes the silence between us is the deep well of sorrow, where
we wonder how we became the sanctuary for this stranger's heart.
fault & creature (5/17)
Once I pulled her from the river by her wet fur.
it was in the brazen music of thunder...
#PopCulture
2461 reads
16 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Nov 2017 8:46am
18th Nov 2017 8:46am
once upon a time
Once upon a time, in a time of once, when once was enough, but twice if you were
brave enough, there came a brave knight whose knighthood was begotten by his bravery.
he rode a silver stallion whose coat was a splash of moonlight, & the moon was less radiant for it; & the stallion was itself the moonlight.
the knight ventured into battle with half the brain & twice the heart. he vanquished dragons to rescue queens & entered combat with heathens to save the tender mercies of village maidens, & the maidens did not lack in their ardor.
...
brave enough, there came a brave knight whose knighthood was begotten by his bravery.
he rode a silver stallion whose coat was a splash of moonlight, & the moon was less radiant for it; & the stallion was itself the moonlight.
the knight ventured into battle with half the brain & twice the heart. he vanquished dragons to rescue queens & entered combat with heathens to save the tender mercies of village maidens, & the maidens did not lack in their ardor.
...
#animals
#beach
#water
#holiday
#fish
1836 reads
13 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
26th Aug 2017 5:55am
26th Aug 2017 5:55am
sayl
we take refuge among the low hills of wildflowers, the place of
a thousand journeys. it sings a song that we cannot hear; it brings
simple treasures that we cannot take. we were soldiers, no longer
needed to march.
we were soldiers once, lured by the call of the bugle, the thunder of
violence, & the mouth of the cannon, more ensorcelling than a
woman’s lips. there were women who desired to love us, though
they knew we made for the field of battle when the trumpets blew.
they waited in their hermitage, made of silence & tears. they...
a thousand journeys. it sings a song that we cannot hear; it brings
simple treasures that we cannot take. we were soldiers, no longer
needed to march.
we were soldiers once, lured by the call of the bugle, the thunder of
violence, & the mouth of the cannon, more ensorcelling than a
woman’s lips. there were women who desired to love us, though
they knew we made for the field of battle when the trumpets blew.
they waited in their hermitage, made of silence & tears. they...
#LifeAsAWriter
2526 reads
23 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
17th Aug 2017 7:40am
17th Aug 2017 7:40am
strange chroma
For lie to all, & to each, tell a little truth.
it was her cool, steady gaze, I suppose.
the strange chroma of her eyes –
a blue-gray mix you won’t find in the sky;
you’ll see it in the rain.
a woman sits at the bar, appraising her marauder lips in the
backdrop glass; red like a red red rose. she displays herself as
if she’s available… asking for it. but every dame has a boyfriend.
or a girlfriend.
it’s the allure of the clandestine, the sordid, the stranger.
sex is the crime of the lonely & the brave.
...
it was her cool, steady gaze, I suppose.
the strange chroma of her eyes –
a blue-gray mix you won’t find in the sky;
you’ll see it in the rain.
a woman sits at the bar, appraising her marauder lips in the
backdrop glass; red like a red red rose. she displays herself as
if she’s available… asking for it. but every dame has a boyfriend.
or a girlfriend.
it’s the allure of the clandestine, the sordid, the stranger.
sex is the crime of the lonely & the brave.
...
#lust
#sex
#erotic
#porn
#BDSM
1608 reads
15 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
14th Aug 2017 6:46am
14th Aug 2017 6:46am
oratori notoria
rain drips among grieving graffiti on the outer wall,
& inside, the ghosts of forsaken lovers linger in the loneliness.
away from the criminal streets, bird flies high & wolf howls
a dirge of simpatico.
they had pretty names, the women who said they loved me. & one
who did not, but I saw the neon flash of those words when I plundered
deep into her heart. they spoke the Italian lust of sonnets & the desire
of odes. affairs of the sordid belong to the shadows.
the passion of my poems & the sorrow of my noir urged them to...
& inside, the ghosts of forsaken lovers linger in the loneliness.
away from the criminal streets, bird flies high & wolf howls
a dirge of simpatico.
they had pretty names, the women who said they loved me. & one
who did not, but I saw the neon flash of those words when I plundered
deep into her heart. they spoke the Italian lust of sonnets & the desire
of odes. affairs of the sordid belong to the shadows.
the passion of my poems & the sorrow of my noir urged them to...
#loneliness
#dark
1477 reads
9 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
11th Aug 2017 5:22am
11th Aug 2017 5:22am
le dame
what depth in the blue that veiled her face,
like a secret trying to expunge itself.
coquette. demoiselle. mistress. harlot to any man who wandered
into her night. she was sheer fantasy, sheer as the nylons that
adorned her legs. gifts of soldiers to barter for her flesh.
disregard that she was someone’s daughter, & possibly someone’s
mother. that she slept on a small cot like nuns in a cloister. that she
cooked a fine meal, went to church, & wept for the abuses laid on
her back. there is no room in the story for such.
...
like a secret trying to expunge itself.
coquette. demoiselle. mistress. harlot to any man who wandered
into her night. she was sheer fantasy, sheer as the nylons that
adorned her legs. gifts of soldiers to barter for her flesh.
disregard that she was someone’s daughter, & possibly someone’s
mother. that she slept on a small cot like nuns in a cloister. that she
cooked a fine meal, went to church, & wept for the abuses laid on
her back. there is no room in the story for such.
...
#girlfriend
#women
#men
#lover
#emotions
1539 reads
10 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
8th Aug 2017 6:49am
8th Aug 2017 6:49am
scarlet poetry
what charm. what scandalous blasphemy.
she devolved to coarse dialect, as a studious woman does,
when she was in the uttermost ascensions of her sexual perfidia.
once, in our fierce nocturnal embrace, she snarled in my ear,
‘you are absolutely all ________, & no heart whatsoever!’
her name was Scarlet. & the poetry of her heart; it was scarlet
also. the last of lovers – won’t be satisfied till we’ve danced to
the end of love.
Beauty is a refugee in a lonely place
black swans on shimmering water
the crime...
she devolved to coarse dialect, as a studious woman does,
when she was in the uttermost ascensions of her sexual perfidia.
once, in our fierce nocturnal embrace, she snarled in my ear,
‘you are absolutely all ________, & no heart whatsoever!’
her name was Scarlet. & the poetry of her heart; it was scarlet
also. the last of lovers – won’t be satisfied till we’ve danced to
the end of love.
Beauty is a refugee in a lonely place
black swans on shimmering water
the crime...
#lust
#sex
#passion
1560 reads
12 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
6th Aug 2017 5:15am
6th Aug 2017 5:15am
rivers deep & lonely
sixty dollars. it didn’t take long for her to earn it.
for a man to give it up, as she exonerated the droplets of desire
from his warranted heart.
she’d drag him from the rivers of his desolation, for the brief
travesty of professional love. she’d take a rag & wipe the dust.
if it was there.
so many times I was caught in the vertigo of indiscretion –
who gets the money, the whiskey or the whore…
reflections of my eyes dancing like flames in the shadows on the
wall. stain of her red lips on my mouth, just another notorious ...
for a man to give it up, as she exonerated the droplets of desire
from his warranted heart.
she’d drag him from the rivers of his desolation, for the brief
travesty of professional love. she’d take a rag & wipe the dust.
if it was there.
so many times I was caught in the vertigo of indiscretion –
who gets the money, the whiskey or the whore…
reflections of my eyes dancing like flames in the shadows on the
wall. stain of her red lips on my mouth, just another notorious ...
#love
#lust
#hope
#SelfHarm
#SelfWorth
1307 reads
10 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
4th Aug 2017 4:03am
4th Aug 2017 4:03am
Aryan after you
she came at me like Mariah – the wind blowing thru her hair, as if
it wasn’t a thing of its own creation. a nefarious mix of rain & fire in
her eyes; she could burn a man or wash him down the river.
it was a tragic passion that could only be beautiful. smoke came from
the other side of the mountain. the smell of a great disaster was in the
air. I would have left her alone, had a beer, bogarted a joint, but she
wanted it.
she took me somewhere I’ve never been. gladly beyond. the wind cascades
like an old world symphony thru the tall...
it wasn’t a thing of its own creation. a nefarious mix of rain & fire in
her eyes; she could burn a man or wash him down the river.
it was a tragic passion that could only be beautiful. smoke came from
the other side of the mountain. the smell of a great disaster was in the
air. I would have left her alone, had a beer, bogarted a joint, but she
wanted it.
she took me somewhere I’ve never been. gladly beyond. the wind cascades
like an old world symphony thru the tall...
#love
#respect
1863 reads
8 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
2nd Aug 2017 5:11am
2nd Aug 2017 5:11am
savage garden
Audrey Munson was the first nude woman in silent films.
it was she who was the dire sculpture of Pygmalion.
I would have made poems out of Germanesque movies & sad songs,
if no woman ever loved me.
I sat in saloons & beckoned a harlot, in a city that perhaps never was.
she painted on a name as coyly as she painted scarlet on her lips. we
went where the most lonely go: a sullen hotel composed of 2-dollar
chambers, & the sex that we had was the poetry of the streets.
the silence of black metal rifles roars in the broken...
it was she who was the dire sculpture of Pygmalion.
I would have made poems out of Germanesque movies & sad songs,
if no woman ever loved me.
I sat in saloons & beckoned a harlot, in a city that perhaps never was.
she painted on a name as coyly as she painted scarlet on her lips. we
went where the most lonely go: a sullen hotel composed of 2-dollar
chambers, & the sex that we had was the poetry of the streets.
the silence of black metal rifles roars in the broken...
#WritingPoetry
1737 reads
11 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
29th Jul 2017 5:41pm
29th Jul 2017 5:41pm
return to zero (a woman's song)
slave am I, slave to man
cast upon a tattered lawn
mournful trumpets
rage of angels
orange sunset, mirrored dawn
rouge my cheeks, red my mouth
one hundred vices in my heart
atlas of clouds
island spices
sundered canvas, covenant art
run with wolves
who howl the moon
to paint a mortal stain
cry the mountain
down the valley
walk the streets of rain
garner silence as my song
the pallid leaves of poetry
white diamond stars
and Spanish guitars
were never made for me
...
cast upon a tattered lawn
mournful trumpets
rage of angels
orange sunset, mirrored dawn
rouge my cheeks, red my mouth
one hundred vices in my heart
atlas of clouds
island spices
sundered canvas, covenant art
run with wolves
who howl the moon
to paint a mortal stain
cry the mountain
down the valley
walk the streets of rain
garner silence as my song
the pallid leaves of poetry
white diamond stars
and Spanish guitars
were never made for me
...
1421 reads
9 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by JohnFeddeler
