deepundergroundpoetry.com
beyond the tarnished sunset
‘Dance me to the end of love.’ Leonard Cohen
Savannah Rose, they called her.
in the joints where broken men go to watch naked girls
on a stage, & dream their soiled dreams.
there was nothing unique about her. she had the rhythm to
sway seductively as she danced out of her little outfit. her
body was used & sinful, like every other part-time stripper,
part-time whore. she could be taken, for a price.
after her set, she walked around the room. I told her I was a
weary vet who craved a little company. ‘you want me to join
you, soldier,’ she said. ‘ just show me a smile & a fifty.’ I
never smiled, but she took my fifty anyway.
she sat close, & I could smell her sweat mingled with something
spicy, something precious you would dig in the earth for. I could
linger a long time in that fragrance; she smelled like a woman.
my hands roamed like rabid dogs over the smooth liquid fire of
her skin. she spoke in sultry whispers. her voice was music, a
suite that heralded my assault, as my lips tasted the juncture of
her neck & shoulders. like having sex with our clothes on.
the darkness of the room hid our sordid manipulations. her
fingers discovered my rigid secret, & deftly freed it from its blue
jean prison. after some massaging, she covered my indiscretion
with a linen napkin, & I corrupted the purity of it with a demented
deluge that gushed like a wild river. so full of rage & sorrow was
it that I almost wept.
she did something then that I didn’t expect: she held me close.
later, in my lonely bed, she was there on the private stage
of my dream –
she danced my death & sang my hell…
Published 27th Oct 2015
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likes 20
reading list entries 4
comments 17
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27th Oct 2015 6:55pm
Very well written Sir John...I could imagine all of it sir..
Love reading your ink!!
Love reading your ink!!
27th Oct 2015 7:00pm
"she danced my death & sang my hell…" - by design of course. your lines are always silver lined. Heavy, indeed, Sir John. Love it! blue angel
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
27th Oct 2015 7:48pm
<< post removed >>
27th Oct 2015 9:07pm
A very fatal female, this Savanah Rose, offering relief with the "little death." I believe she has a sister named Enigma.
27th Oct 2015 10:17pm
27th Oct 2015 11:39pm
28th Oct 2015 00:57am
“Whores, Anna once read, make the very best wives. They are accustomed to the varying moods of men, they keep their broken hearts to themselves, and easy women always ease through grief.”
29th Oct 2015 1:14am
Anonymous
28th Oct 2015 3:10am
Sir John,
Not only a great read, but an awesome video for the mind! Loved your line:
"I could smell her sweat mingled with something spicy, something precious you would dig in the earth for."
Enjoyed!!!
tornado
Not only a great read, but an awesome video for the mind! Loved your line:
"I could smell her sweat mingled with something spicy, something precious you would dig in the earth for."
Enjoyed!!!
tornado
28th Oct 2015 11:32am
you always say whore like it's beautiful... gives a girl hope, mister
loved, as always
xo
loved, as always
xo
28th Oct 2015 11:41am
"in the joints where broken men go to watch naked girls
on a stage, & dream their soiled dreams."
I frequented many such after my divorce. You conjured up raw imagery here John. You do so with a rare skill my friend. well scribed.
on a stage, & dream their soiled dreams."
I frequented many such after my divorce. You conjured up raw imagery here John. You do so with a rare skill my friend. well scribed.
28th Oct 2015 12:01pm
JohnFeddeler, luv ~
The way you write is beatific even when the subject matter is not what one would consider blissful material, perhaps especially then.
Beatific, luv. :-*
The way you write is beatific even when the subject matter is not what one would consider blissful material, perhaps especially then.
Beatific, luv. :-*
Anonymous
28th Oct 2015 12:06pm
your pen always drips such poetic beauty...
very poignant write that whispers to you...brilliantly
executed. thanks for sharing - miss. barrie
very poignant write that whispers to you...brilliantly
executed. thanks for sharing - miss. barrie
28th Oct 2015 6:05pm
Loves to your title!
"she had the rhythm to
sway seductively as she danced out of her little outfit."
~written into a hot visual
"like having sex with our clothes on. "... *poetry sighs, darkly
"later, in my lonely bed, she was there on the private stage
of my dream – "
~where would we be without the momentos in mind..
sultry tale of arrangement plus benefit of 'holding'.. always the unexpected unpaid-for kindness gets us..
your forte being powerful bang! at end line & oh hell yes-- you did!.. loved ;)
much respect, sweet SirJ
~d
"she had the rhythm to
sway seductively as she danced out of her little outfit."
~written into a hot visual
"like having sex with our clothes on. "... *poetry sighs, darkly
"later, in my lonely bed, she was there on the private stage
of my dream – "
~where would we be without the momentos in mind..
sultry tale of arrangement plus benefit of 'holding'.. always the unexpected unpaid-for kindness gets us..
your forte being powerful bang! at end line & oh hell yes-- you did!.. loved ;)
much respect, sweet SirJ
~d
28th Oct 2015 6:24pm
mmm John love this smoky noir filled with detachment and emotion..
in awe of these lines..
"the darkness of the room hid our sordid manipulations. her
fingers discovered my rigid secret, & deftly freed it from its blue
jean prison. after some massaging, she covered my indiscretion
with a linen napkin, & I corrupted the purity of it with a demented
deluge that gushed like a wild river. so full of rage & sorrow was
it that I almost wept."
you paint your torrid women with such a beautiful brush making me wish to be one of them..
love Crim
in awe of these lines..
"the darkness of the room hid our sordid manipulations. her
fingers discovered my rigid secret, & deftly freed it from its blue
jean prison. after some massaging, she covered my indiscretion
with a linen napkin, & I corrupted the purity of it with a demented
deluge that gushed like a wild river. so full of rage & sorrow was
it that I almost wept."
you paint your torrid women with such a beautiful brush making me wish to be one of them..
love Crim
2nd Nov 2015 2:24pm
" she covered my indiscretion
with a linen napkin, & I corrupted the purity of it with a demented
deluge that gushed like a wild river. so full of rage & sorrow was
it that I almost wept. " Wow loved that..wonderful ink John.. your pen always deliver..enjoyed as always!!!
with a linen napkin, & I corrupted the purity of it with a demented
deluge that gushed like a wild river. so full of rage & sorrow was
it that I almost wept. " Wow loved that..wonderful ink John.. your pen always deliver..enjoyed as always!!!
14th Mar 2017 4:01am
'she did something then that I didn’t expect: she held me close.'
Some women; they just know.
Brilliant poetry, John; artwork to match.
Definately a keeper...
Some women; they just know.
Brilliant poetry, John; artwork to match.
Definately a keeper...
