deepundergroundpoetry.com
they don't make poetry for this
(Kerouac said the road from nowhere leads everywhere.
I must be traveling backwards…)
rhinestone raindrops on a velvet night
that sounds like the beginning of a very romantic verse,
but I took it in a different direction, because in my part
of town the rain is just wet & the night is just dark.
& lonely. which is redundant:
I’ve never seen a rainy night that wasn’t lonely.
I’m soaked clean through to my shivering bones, so I slam
into the nearest saloon. the barkeep’s on the phone with
his bookie, so I wait.
which means the shady ladies of my bleak history return to
torment me, expecting a lead role in my latest tale. these
stories I write, there is some truth & some fiction in them.
maybe I’m just trying to glorify my mundane experiences,
as if the things I’ve done, the whores I’ve shared my sex with,
should be forgotten. but I can’t forget.
every encounter fades in as a wild ride through the blind
alleys & blue flames of an earth-bound purgatory, until it’s
time to pack up & take the last train outa Dodge; we’ll
never find a poem in all of this desolation.
amid the sorrow, the heartbreak, the loneliness, all those
ugly things, I’ve searched for beauty. where is the logic in
the final words they’ve told me, just before goodbye:
‘I love you, but I can’t live with you.’
these things a woman knows, I can never know…
Published 10th Nov 2015
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10th Nov 2015 10:02pm
"every encounter fades in as a wild ride through the blind
alleys & blue flames of an earth-bound purgatory,"
Hmm, and - "rhinestone raindrops on a velvet night."
There is a smoke trail leading to the allure of romance in there somewhere. the night is still young, he might get lucky and find a rhinestone covered in raindrops. I dream in poetry... love it, Sir Blues. - blue angel
alleys & blue flames of an earth-bound purgatory,"
Hmm, and - "rhinestone raindrops on a velvet night."
There is a smoke trail leading to the allure of romance in there somewhere. the night is still young, he might get lucky and find a rhinestone covered in raindrops. I dream in poetry... love it, Sir Blues. - blue angel
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
10th Nov 2015 10:06pm
<< post removed >>
10th Nov 2015 10:22pm
Poetry's hard to locate on the dark side of town, but you always seem to manage. I usually end up mugged in an alley. Fine work John.
10th Nov 2015 10:24pm
Beauty by verse & title loves!
always, you lay your thoughts in decadent style, SirJ!
"every encounter fades in as a wild ride through the blind
alleys & blue flames of an earth-bound purgatory"
~*poetry sighs* swack loudly with this lovely visual of heat..
"we’ll never find a poem in all of this desolation."
~the night is always young, as is the search without searching ;)
curtsies to your pen,
~d
always, you lay your thoughts in decadent style, SirJ!
"every encounter fades in as a wild ride through the blind
alleys & blue flames of an earth-bound purgatory"
~*poetry sighs* swack loudly with this lovely visual of heat..
"we’ll never find a poem in all of this desolation."
~the night is always young, as is the search without searching ;)
curtsies to your pen,
~d
10th Nov 2015 11:23pm
Dark, lonesome and blues-ey I had to go to my door and check the street for lurking whores so real was the picture you painted John.
11th Nov 2015 4:57am
11th Nov 2015 5:20pm
Personally, I think you are a walking poetry......be it real experience or not, it's all beautifully expressed.
I just realized, "rainy nights are lonely "....I've always seen them as comforting. Of course, now I'm fascinated.
I just realized, "rainy nights are lonely "....I've always seen them as comforting. Of course, now I'm fascinated.
11th Nov 2015 11:27pm
This is so beautiful JohnFeddeler … so expressive, and stunning in its imagery … personally, I love the rain. i find it freeing, cleansing …
you always find a poem, even in your desolation … that's what makes it all the more powerful …
you always find a poem, even in your desolation … that's what makes it all the more powerful …
12th Nov 2015 2:42am
John I love the stories you tell of the whores in your life and the beauty you find in each one..
shows a tender, romantic, poetic soul..
love Crim
shows a tender, romantic, poetic soul..
love Crim
12th Nov 2015 2:53pm
Rainy nights always bring out the best and the worst in me...this poem teeters that fine line flawlessly..staggering between raindrops!! Poised,Passionate and Piercing Ink..enjoyed
Anonymous
12th Nov 2015 4:30pm
*Whoa*
12th Nov 2015 8:52pm
Feddler dear,
"they don't make poetry for this"
Ha! I never thought I would see
the day, when another would
express such a thing... never ..
there comes a time in life, when
journals stop being journals &
diaries stop being diaries,
as things can get just that heavy,
but no less than beautiful.
So 'we' who knows this secret
only have shelves full of
"Collaged leaves with spines,
beckoning to be put at reste"
thus we must create a new
one.. until.. until..
We must explore libraries ..
& see what conversations can
voyage.
You are so right, they sure
don't
-Howlings
"they don't make poetry for this"
Ha! I never thought I would see
the day, when another would
express such a thing... never ..
there comes a time in life, when
journals stop being journals &
diaries stop being diaries,
as things can get just that heavy,
but no less than beautiful.
So 'we' who knows this secret
only have shelves full of
"Collaged leaves with spines,
beckoning to be put at reste"
thus we must create a new
one.. until.. until..
We must explore libraries ..
& see what conversations can
voyage.
You are so right, they sure
don't
-Howlings
15th Nov 2015 4:40am
