deepundergroundpoetry.com
tango vingativo
oh yeah, she’s a work of art:
a Caravaggio with dirty borders.
wants the heathen multitude to believe she’s
the sweetest angel ever to fall from grace.
she composes a dulcet seduction, pervasive
& lethal in her lyrics; she torches temptation
in the sultry contralto of her song.
when the wings & the halo come off, she strips
naked & flashes her cunt at her salivating
paramours. it’s a spiteful challenge, & those who
are not true men will disappear. just disappear,
without a shadow or an echo.
I would rush directly into her fire, with the cold wind
of the Norsemen as my shield. shock & awe, the
weapons of my assault.
slap the beautiful face that spits at the dog of my
audacity. slap her again, till she crumbles to her
knees, not to beg, but to worship. her searing eyes
bewilder me, & I invade the target of her wet, red
mouth with the salacious spike that protrudes from me.
before she extracts the force of my passion, I push her
violently to the ground; I drop to the cove between her
thighs, to sate my thirst with the sweet waters deep
within the grotto of her womanflesh. ‘suck me, you pig!’
she commands, & so I suck, upon the trembling morsel
of her iniquity.
she moans & contorts, & in mythical moments she pulls
me up toward her breasts, her beseeching throat. she
makes no apologies for her need to be fucked. we engage
like the savage beasts that are born inside of us, to rage
against morality, to vanquish the tempest…
…victorious & conquered, dazed & somnolent, we rest –
we have suffered the infinite suffering.
a Caravaggio with dirty borders.
wants the heathen multitude to believe she’s
the sweetest angel ever to fall from grace.
she composes a dulcet seduction, pervasive
& lethal in her lyrics; she torches temptation
in the sultry contralto of her song.
when the wings & the halo come off, she strips
naked & flashes her cunt at her salivating
paramours. it’s a spiteful challenge, & those who
are not true men will disappear. just disappear,
without a shadow or an echo.
I would rush directly into her fire, with the cold wind
of the Norsemen as my shield. shock & awe, the
weapons of my assault.
slap the beautiful face that spits at the dog of my
audacity. slap her again, till she crumbles to her
knees, not to beg, but to worship. her searing eyes
bewilder me, & I invade the target of her wet, red
mouth with the salacious spike that protrudes from me.
before she extracts the force of my passion, I push her
violently to the ground; I drop to the cove between her
thighs, to sate my thirst with the sweet waters deep
within the grotto of her womanflesh. ‘suck me, you pig!’
she commands, & so I suck, upon the trembling morsel
of her iniquity.
she moans & contorts, & in mythical moments she pulls
me up toward her breasts, her beseeching throat. she
makes no apologies for her need to be fucked. we engage
like the savage beasts that are born inside of us, to rage
against morality, to vanquish the tempest…
…victorious & conquered, dazed & somnolent, we rest –
we have suffered the infinite suffering.
Published 19th Jul 2014
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likes 14
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comments 16
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19th Jul 2014 3:42am
19th Jul 2014 4:30am
Good. Lord. JohnFeddeler, luv :-* - this is so voracious and inflammatory as to fair flay flesh from one's very bones and leave one salivating in lustful anticipation... ;-) Excellently done, luv! I'll be needing a cold bath now.
Anonymous
19th Jul 2014 7:47am
excellent
19th Jul 2014 7:55am
Travelled the journey with you JF...
Your words melt from my lips as I speak them ...
Excellent ink.... :)
Your words melt from my lips as I speak them ...
Excellent ink.... :)
19th Jul 2014 11:12am
slap the beautiful face that spits at the dog of my
audacity. slap her again, till she crumbles to her
knees, not to beg, but to worship. her searing eyes
bewilder me, & I invade the target of her wet, red
mouth with the salacious spike that protrudes from me.
before she extracts the force of my passion, I push her
violently to the ground; I drop to the cove between her
thighs, to sate my thirst with the sweet waters deep
within the grotto of her womanflesh. ‘suck me, you pig!’
she commands, & so I suck, upon the trembling morsel
of her iniquity.
she moans & contorts, & in mythical moments she pulls
me up toward her breasts, her beseeching throat. she
makes no apologies for her need to be fucked. we engage
like the savage beasts that are born inside of us, to rage
against morality, to vanquish the tempest…
…victorious & conquered, dazed & somnolent, we rest –
Put this on a t-shirt and I'll take seven ... One for each day of the week ... BRAVO!
audacity. slap her again, till she crumbles to her
knees, not to beg, but to worship. her searing eyes
bewilder me, & I invade the target of her wet, red
mouth with the salacious spike that protrudes from me.
before she extracts the force of my passion, I push her
violently to the ground; I drop to the cove between her
thighs, to sate my thirst with the sweet waters deep
within the grotto of her womanflesh. ‘suck me, you pig!’
she commands, & so I suck, upon the trembling morsel
of her iniquity.
she moans & contorts, & in mythical moments she pulls
me up toward her breasts, her beseeching throat. she
makes no apologies for her need to be fucked. we engage
like the savage beasts that are born inside of us, to rage
against morality, to vanquish the tempest…
…victorious & conquered, dazed & somnolent, we rest –
Put this on a t-shirt and I'll take seven ... One for each day of the week ... BRAVO!
19th Jul 2014 6:16pm
have mercy Mister Feddeler, i'll be replacing batteries after this one ~
she moans & contorts, & in mythical
moments she pulls me up toward her breasts, her
beseeching throat. she
makes no apologies for her need to be
fucked. we engage
like the savage beasts that are born
inside of us, to rage against morality, to vanquish the
tempest…
…victorious & conquered, dazed &
somnolent, we rest –
if there's a dry seat in the house after this... then some people have no taste.
she moans & contorts, & in mythical
moments she pulls me up toward her breasts, her
beseeching throat. she
makes no apologies for her need to be
fucked. we engage
like the savage beasts that are born
inside of us, to rage against morality, to vanquish the
tempest…
…victorious & conquered, dazed &
somnolent, we rest –
if there's a dry seat in the house after this... then some people have no taste.
19th Jul 2014 6:32pm
19th Jul 2014 10:25pm
this is what great American writing is - robust and tender - like miller and bukowski - I want you to get laid often and write about it - very cool write:
"slap the beautiful face that spits at the dog of my
audacity. slap her again,"
"slap the beautiful face that spits at the dog of my
audacity. slap her again,"
Anonymous
20th Jul 2014 3:27am
No apologies when it comes to raw carnal of lust and desire. Bold and robust, wild and rough just as passion should be..sex is only an afterthought in this piece.
Not sure on the excessive usage of punctuation but you always have a reason John, so i will trust you on this one..you've been a pro at this long before you were re-born into this.
Not sure on the excessive usage of punctuation but you always have a reason John, so i will trust you on this one..you've been a pro at this long before you were re-born into this.
20th Jul 2014 4:59am
20th Jul 2014 9:57pm
22nd Jul 2014 9:50pm
23rd Jul 2014 1:32pm
"I would rush directly into her fire, with the cold wind of the Norsemen as my shield. shock & awe, the weapons of my assault." ... your stunning poetics is the rage! I'm in shock and awe of your skills. It's always such a privilege to experience your hand against sexual indulgences, as this. Imperial crafting! ❤
23rd Jul 2014 1:55pm
John, you have a different edge for us to leap from, to feel your rush is unique from others. Great poem, outstanding read
23rd Jul 2014 5:14pm
24th Jul 2014 7:32pm
This is amazingly hot sir!!! You paint such a vivid picture i felt as if i was her. Grt ink!!
