deepundergroundpoetry.com
were love not more beautiful
…knocked on heaven’s door
but no one was home…
this is the room where I loved her
or maybe we called it love
because we had no other name for it
there was sex, & intimate conversations;
she spoke about other men
things they did to her.
things she wanted, perhaps needed,
that they would not do.
she wore no makeup, except for one time
when she had a function to attend.
when she came to the room after midnight
she had paint around her eyes
and on her lips, waxen, very deep, & red.
she looked like a woman for purchase, a prostitute.
I told her that, & I would not kiss her.
she stayed in the bath for several minutes;
when she came out, the vile scarlet was gone
and so we kissed.
every woman is a poem
and the poem that was her
was the unholy brooding of a monk in a hermitage,
and thus it remained unwritten.
she had tattoos
and these were the sorrows etched into her skin;
there were roses with withered petals on her back
but the stems were rampant with perilous thorns
and it grieved me because I was among them.
this was her story, & it was all of sadness.
she said that our kisses would run out one day
and I told her that I would never kiss her for the last time.
but she avowed that on the day
when I left her without telling her why
and I kissed her; our last kiss; she would know...
(Art: Emmanuel Sougez)
Published 15th Dec 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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15th Dec 2015 2:29am
she said that our kisses would run out one day
and I told her that I would never kiss her for the last time.
but she avowed that on the day
when I left her without telling her why
and I kissed her; our last kiss; she would know...
love that last stanza... it reminds me of the translation of a Spanish poet I read... but I can't remember which one...
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
15th Dec 2015 2:35am
<< post removed >>
Geesh, my gods Feddler.
you are really digging in
the grains of .. Salt &
'Un' ..
Such a beauty my Knight,
though you had my heart
pounding, had to massage
it out for a minute..
-Howlings
you are really digging in
the grains of .. Salt &
'Un' ..
Such a beauty my Knight,
though you had my heart
pounding, had to massage
it out for a minute..
-Howlings
15th Dec 2015 4:47am
15th Dec 2015 4:18pm
The exquisite agony of knowing what is to come during a period of beauty is a discipline in refusing to relinquish the gift of the present moment.
were love not more beautiful indeed
were love not more beautiful indeed
15th Dec 2015 5:59pm
Couldn't be more beautiful, a bittersweet goodbye. I always like your choice of photos, always well selected and well in keeping with your work. Fine job.
15th Dec 2015 6:34pm
this is so beautiful JohnFeddeler .. to lie in wait of what will come .. inevitably, one way or another ...
15th Dec 2015 7:07pm
Yes this is so beautiful...
every word in the perfect place-
one of my favorite poems at the moment lol..
Thank you for sharing :)
every word in the perfect place-
one of my favorite poems at the moment lol..
Thank you for sharing :)
15th Dec 2015 8:04pm
Very touching ending. most, if not all, can relate to that moment when you both know it's the last goodbye. Beautiful piece Sir John.
15th Dec 2015 9:19pm
This has to go on my RL. I devoured this piece, a typical JF and yet so utterly new and beautiful!
You walk the tightrope between sadness and lust and cannot but perform excellenty!
You walk the tightrope between sadness and lust and cannot but perform excellenty!
25th Dec 2015 7:43am
"every woman is a poem
and the poem that was her
was the unholy brooding of a monk in a hermitage,
and thus it remained unwritten." ... - just love that stanza! blue angel
and the poem that was her
was the unholy brooding of a monk in a hermitage,
and thus it remained unwritten." ... - just love that stanza! blue angel
4th Jan 2016 7:39pm
Oh, I know the type... Their rationale is, "fair warning is no ambush", but just because it's accurate, doesn't mean it's true.
Anonymous
10th Jan 2016 2:28am
Love really is whatever we think it is. Some connections aren't what we're told love should look like, but connections like this qualify, even when we know they're not going to last. Engaging, bittersweet write.
Anonymous
21st Mar 2016 10:34pm
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