deepundergroundpoetry.com
noir in a dirty glass
it’s the foggy gray between black&white that you fall into,
ejected from your Hollywood hustler nightmare. it’s
fast cars & fading stars, pistol fire in the quivering shadows,
& the smooth lies of indiscreet women. it’s the gunmetal
clutch of noir, & it will break your heart.
bottle after bottle, your glass stays full. tears fall in ten-cent
clef notes as a Doll with a forgotten name belts out the
saddest song on the jukebox.
moonlight creeps in as the door opens wide, & she walks
into the only joint you’ve never been thrown out of: the dame
with the invincible eyes & the long kiss goodnight. the arms
that held you tight enough to squeeze out all the hurt, & the
body where you breast-fed on your sweetest nights.
you hunch up your collar, trying to disappear, but she zeros in
on you like a soft, curvy torpedo. ‘I need a place to stay, baby.’
she breathes it like a church hymn, as if all the months of solo
drinking & pounding your fists on the table never happened.
you want to be hard & tell her to go to hell, then you notice the
mean bruise on her cheek, infiltrating her carefully applied
makeup. you’re bushwhacked by the spice of her perfume &
those deadly kissable lips, just an inch away, so you crumble
like a sparrow in a hurricane.
when you get home, she slips out of her languid clothes & into
your bed. & she sleeps, she just sleeps. you’re crazy with desire
to ravage her, make her pay for leaving you! but you can’t intrude
on this pristine portrait of her, this fairy tale. Sleeping Beauty.
so you sit & watch her through the hours
of this spectacular night;
satisfied, maybe, to be part of the perfect poem
for star-crossed lovers…
Published 23rd Aug 2015
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23rd Aug 2015 9:09pm
Ahhh, JohnFeddeler, luv ~ :-*
This one is simply an elegant, eloquent bittersweet draught of absinthe, mayhap... :-*
Gorgeous, deadly to one's peace of mind, ever-so-lovely...
This one is simply an elegant, eloquent bittersweet draught of absinthe, mayhap... :-*
Gorgeous, deadly to one's peace of mind, ever-so-lovely...
23rd Aug 2015 9:24pm
John you with your deadly beautiful mournful details..
drawing me into the picture you paint with such sadness..
I long to be a lady in one of your stories..
masterful inking with love Crim
drawing me into the picture you paint with such sadness..
I long to be a lady in one of your stories..
masterful inking with love Crim
23rd Aug 2015 10:14pm
I particularly like the hard case attitude being set aside, dissolving into something a bit more tender. "Crumbling like a sparrow in a hurricane." I'll take mine in a smeared glass with a trace of lipstick on the rim.
23rd Aug 2015 11:04pm
tenderness showing in this poem John....
'so you sit & watch her through the hours
of this spectacular night;
satisfied, maybe, to be part of the perfect poem
for star-crossed lovers… '
and this is how it sometimes is....
'so you sit & watch her through the hours
of this spectacular night;
satisfied, maybe, to be part of the perfect poem
for star-crossed lovers… '
and this is how it sometimes is....
24th Aug 2015 1:19am
I wanted to play Blues in the Night as I read this. So 'Mickey Spillane' what brilliant pictures you conjure up John. Thank you.
Anonymous
24th Aug 2015 6:30am
Once again a masterpiece. If I chose a piece it would be "Lush life" to listen by, and I think I will again as I read it. The essence of Noire captured in the most elegantly chosen similes and metaphors. "Tears fall in ten-cent clef notes." One can listen to the music, smell the stale tobacco and the breath of too much booze. A life spent in Fedoras, trench coats and melancholy so visually portrayed. This is masterful writing.
24th Aug 2015 5:49pm
satisfied, maybe, to be part of the perfect poem
for star-crossed lovers…
Only ones who have lost such a satisfaction can appreciate the beauty and love distance holds.
for star-crossed lovers…
Only ones who have lost such a satisfaction can appreciate the beauty and love distance holds.
25th Aug 2015 10:13pm
27th Aug 2015 3:24pm
blackened body of god, mister feddeler... it's like you stepped out of "nighthawks" or an estes painting
*t.g*
loved
*t.g*
loved
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
27th Aug 2015 3:37pm
<< post removed >>
28th Aug 2015 2:17am
Love the title, and you're noir mind. It's always a thrill being inside the shadows of your aching nights, or is it lines.... very nice! Respectfully, blue angel
29th Aug 2015 4:03am
Great lines pepper throughout this piece like gunfire in the deadly dark of night . Well done, John !
