deepundergroundpoetry.com
elegeia (transient violins)
(there is a kind of love that is rationed in brief
interludes, & has no entanglements;
it can be purchased with spintria coins.)
she’s through with urbane verse, she tells me.
she needs to reach inside herself, to her deepest
virgin boundaries, to find the poetry of her heart.
so I ponder this: would she dive deep enough to
drown in her tears? would she plunge to the pit of
her agony, to find her depth?
my own destitute renderings, corrupt & abrasive,
would be shallow, by rote. & I ask her: would you
embrace my poem that is made of cinders?
would you take it in your mouth?
she replies: I would. I would take it in my mouth,
and I would swallow it.
I speak to her in crude street language,
and she responds with metaphors.
she asks me to stay with her, & I tell her I can’t because
I have a rendezvous with another woman, a woman that
I don’t go to for poetry; I go for sex.
I tell her to reach deeply into her gut & pull out the broken
bits of glass that will become her poems, the art she suffers
for, so deep & poetic as to be eternally elusive…
but don’t write about love.
Published 1st May 2015
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likes 18
reading list entries 6
comments 18
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1st May 2015 1:58am
struck a chord JF....especially
"I tell her to reach deeply into her gut............as to be eternally elusive..."
"I tell her to reach deeply into her gut............as to be eternally elusive..."
Anonymous
1st May 2015 2:03am
'but don't write about love.'
such a challenge!
such a challenge!
1st May 2015 2:21am
Suffering's always part of the picture, but sometimes it can be transformed. As long as the violins can be heard. Great work John.
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
1st May 2015 2:37am
<< post removed >>
1st May 2015 11:12am
Anonymous
1st May 2015 3:58pm
"but don’t write about love."
if only it was that easy, Mister Feddeler
if only it was that easy, Mister Feddeler
1st May 2015 5:01pm
You put this much better than I ever could though i feel this deeply. Very, very deeply. Truly stunning poetry, Feddeler (do you ever get tired of hearing that?).
Anonymous
- Edited 1st May 2015 5:17pm
1st May 2015 5:16pm
JohnFeddeller somehow I succumbed "to the brief interlude," there was no polite intermission, and now I'm a awash in a full on fugue. Nicely done. Thank you for this.
1st May 2015 8:21pm
your poetry I'm inspired to write - maybe one day
you are inspirational :-)
you are inspirational :-)
1st May 2015 10:21pm
2nd May 2015 1:46am
Your words define much deeper emotion than joy, fulfillment, or even love.
Exquisite work John.
Exquisite work John.
2nd May 2015 8:52am
Deeper than my native trenches
Higher than the Andes
Worthy and a great piece of literature.
mcjay
Higher than the Andes
Worthy and a great piece of literature.
mcjay
2nd May 2015 9:12am
3rd May 2015 2:40pm
Love the double edge sharpness of this one. The brutal truth, from a rough spirit. I'll write about barbed wire, tangling around my heart -- Love. Hmm. That's just a slip of the tongue. This poem's a treasure. - blue angel
5th May 2015 9:44am
"I tell her to reach deeply into her gut & pull out the broken
bits of glass that will become her poems, the art she suffers
for, so deep & poetic as to be eternally elusive…
but don’t write about love."
Truth, sir.
bits of glass that will become her poems, the art she suffers
for, so deep & poetic as to be eternally elusive…
but don’t write about love."
Truth, sir.
8th May 2015 3:10pm
Some mighty musings throughout, John, with the last stanza achingly beautiful !
29th May 2015 1:52am
You are such a tyrant with your words, can feel them flowing thru me. Beautiful & exactly what I love, to be when words becoming afloat like emberish things
11th Jul 2016 00:32am
