deepundergroundpoetry.com
graces of loving
‘Oh, these men, these men!’ Angela Thirkell
who are these men? what do they want from me?
she ponders this most often when they interrupt her solitude;
in a café, or a library. even at a musical recital.
they are so many, & I am but one. I cannot save them all.
I cannot love them all.
they were decent men, & good. but it was the good ones who
had broken her heart.
those other men, who purchased her sexual services: that, she
could reckon with. she understood the money, & their need to
own her briefly as she lay under them. she was the sovereign
angel who absorbed their sins. she was the river Jordan in which
they cleansed themselves, a carnal baptism.
these men, they are beasts, constantly in heat. they crave to
trace their kisses over my body, every inch of me, knowing I’m
a woman, & I must submit. oh, these men!
but it wasn’t merely a labor of intimacy. she found a certain
nobility in the industry of sex. in the moments when a man hastens
toward orgasm, nothing else matters, no other thought infringes.
& she, through the conduit of her naked, desirable flesh, delivered
that incomparable thrill to him. it made her an unscarred heroin, a
Joan of Arc, before the burning. it was her coronation, for being female.
when my paramour comes in me, I can feel it, oh! I can feel it! for
those moments, he truly loves me, & that is worth more than
eternities of conditional love.
these were the illusions that carried her upon her wayward journey.
there is something grand that beams out of the shadows of life,
beyond the travesties. if we didn’t believe that, we would perish.
I am a whore now because I have a penance to serve. but I will
walk away from my burden one day. yes. I will.
it was the old lie
and it was common among whores…
(Art: Joel-Peter Witkin)
Published 23rd Feb 2016
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Anonymous
23rd Feb 2016 4:49am
Ah, John, the King of Noir. . .Blue ink & blue whores become the poetics of your bleeding ink. . .As she cried: "these men, these men!" her overwhelming concern left me both fearful & breathless, yet left with this desire to comfort her. . .And your ending. . .Just brilliant. . .For how many times have we heard that exact lament?. . .~xo, Devlin/Doll.
23rd Feb 2016 10:04am
John love your ink I've missed it so much..
your passion and view of the whores I adore..
love these lines..
"I am a whore now because I have a penance to serve. but I will
walk away from my burden one day. yes. I will."
love Crim
your passion and view of the whores I adore..
love these lines..
"I am a whore now because I have a penance to serve. but I will
walk away from my burden one day. yes. I will."
love Crim
23rd Feb 2016 2:14pm
I like how you still make these women...women!
You're wonderful John, enjoyed 😊
You're wonderful John, enjoyed 😊
23rd Feb 2016 6:07pm
23rd Feb 2016 7:10pm
What a beautiful, sad write of a self deceiving woman convinced one day she'll walk away with dignity. So few did. Most died of syphilis or just got plain old and worn out before their time. Such a poetic portrayal John,
Great work.
Great work.
23rd Feb 2016 7:27pm
"A certain nobility in the industry of sex." This goes so much further than the "whore with a heart of gold" cliché. This one has smarts and vision.
23rd Feb 2016 9:26pm
You take the story of a "simple" whore and bring her a mind we can all understand and in this case to sadly applaud. She is no simple whore at all but a philosopher. You take her to the height of your grand vision of real women and place her in story so real you can taste it. Absolutely a superb poem Mr F.
John
John
26th Feb 2016 1:42am
And yet they never can walk away, can they... Captivating story, I researched Angela Thirkell, found a novelist, daughter of a poet. Not sure if it's based off her but I'm always swept inside your character's worlds. Much enjoyed, blue angel
26th Feb 2016 5:01pm
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
27th Feb 2016 3:11am
<< post removed >>
27th Feb 2016 4:56pm
"She was the river of Jordan..."
"A certain nobility.."
Only a man who's been loved by whores can write like this - u must live your poetry and JF - you're the chapeau cus u do!!!
Typo I suspect with "heroin" but then again while we're at it why not;)
"A certain nobility.."
Only a man who's been loved by whores can write like this - u must live your poetry and JF - you're the chapeau cus u do!!!
Typo I suspect with "heroin" but then again while we're at it why not;)
6th Apr 2016 6:00pm
You are the well sir, in which I visit for the inspiration thus filling my own. Incredible prose, it is like you are her capturing raw emotion and spinning this fictional piece from her perspective.
