deepundergroundpoetry.com
Woman, thou art inscrutable
every woman is made of mystery. and sex.
I proclaim that because I’m a man, & my view is parallax.
a woman knows she is much more than my chauvinist
appraisal, & she & her sisters would destroy me if I were
in reach.
I look at a woman who represents beauty to me, & I
am impassioned; because I live for passion & beauty.
my reason cannot penetrate the barriers, the enigmas,
that protect & defend your spirit, & your heart. but my
eyes can pierce your garments, & reveal the sublime
treasure of your nakedness, as if you were Eve in the
Garden… and that is enough.
the skin that you are cool within, would set my lips &
fingertips aflame. each sensual part of you is an oasis
in the desert of my debauchery. the journey over the lusty
terrain of your form, from south to north, is my adventure;
and the conquest of your wantonness is my Grail.
I want to wade through a coterie of women like a blind man
wading through a field of flowers, tall flowers. to be drunk
on the fragrances, to cry from the sheer delight, & to bleed
from the thorn. tempt me; seduce me, & let me live!
you are neither Madonna nor whore to me –
you are woman.
and your mysteries? you can keep your mysteries.
you can drown in them, you can suffocate.
your charades don’t make me ejaculate…
Published 29th Mar 2014
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29th Mar 2014 10:36am
Oh, I was along for this one, until I got to the closing lines.
A woman will have secrets, and not necessarily want to play mind games... Did I interpret the lines differently to your intent?
Your final word marks the poem as male territory, reminding the reader that a woman feels her own attributes strongly in the presence of a man, especially one paying attention.
I like your image, but I find the media ruins the natural line breaks - on of DU's shortcomings.
Wonderful read, thank you.
A woman will have secrets, and not necessarily want to play mind games... Did I interpret the lines differently to your intent?
Your final word marks the poem as male territory, reminding the reader that a woman feels her own attributes strongly in the presence of a man, especially one paying attention.
I like your image, but I find the media ruins the natural line breaks - on of DU's shortcomings.
Wonderful read, thank you.
30th Mar 2014 00:38am
'mind games' is a very good supposition. it's a crime of both sexes at times. & my writing tends to finish w/a hard edge; smooth sailing is infrequent in my choppy waters.
thanks, Poets, for the comments I received on this...
thanks, Poets, for the comments I received on this...
29th Mar 2014 10:39am
and your mysteries? you can keep your mysteries.
you can drown in them, you can suffocate.
your charades don’t make me ejaculate…
oh my!
beautiful
you can drown in them, you can suffocate.
your charades don’t make me ejaculate…
oh my!
beautiful
29th Mar 2014 12:50pm
29th Mar 2014 1:46pm
those images of him wading through his flowering field of women is wild. He is a prisoner of her attributes. His bones weigh heavy in her essence. man is her glory. may his eyes go blindly into her territory, again and again.
Immaculate writing, John !!
Immaculate writing, John !!
29th Mar 2014 3:40pm
John I too love the idea of you being a blind man amongst the flowering nakedness of women touching their buds as you feel your way through them.. sensual seductive ink.. with love Crim :)
29th Mar 2014 3:46pm
I really thought this was beautiful, and it kind of made me feel bad for being a confusing enigma of a woman, until that last stanza which was or at least seemed seriously angry. but nice writing
Anonymous
30th Mar 2014 2:10am
ah but every woman holds her mystery cards very close and never ever reveals all at once and that's the allure.
the greatest seduction starts with the mind as the best of us know...very intriguing write John :)
the greatest seduction starts with the mind as the best of us know...very intriguing write John :)
Anonymous
30th Mar 2014 7:19am
Always penetrating writes from you...
30th Mar 2014 8:35am
I could feel the layers and layers of thoughts making up this poem..doesnt and isnt an onion-ic core afterall ..for this woman,your subject, seems to be deeply immersed in incomprehensible mystery as still the stride continues..keeping the stance clear..the sensual layers being aroused and explored exclusive, but yet still a much safer stance in declaring,
"you are neither Madonna nor whore to me –
you are woman"
a new definition in your dimension.
takes many an adorable twists in your poetics..like steep hairpin bends..but only finally touching the ace, the woman.
beautiful art you draw feddler, each time. this one is more interesting POV:)
Echo blue angel. Favourite verse - second.
Pic could be captioned, rhyming:
I think about you sitting there,
Naked in the garden chair
As we breakfast in the sun.
(I have thought of lines to add to that to make a poem to add to this section.)
Pic could be captioned, rhyming:
I think about you sitting there,
Naked in the garden chair
As we breakfast in the sun.
(I have thought of lines to add to that to make a poem to add to this section.)
31st Mar 2014 2:22am
31st Mar 2014 7:00pm
Each time I read this poem, it sounds different to me. The underlying tenor emphazises your love for the external but not for the inner beauty of women. It's very well and eloquently written, though.
