deepundergroundpoetry.com
moonbroken mistress
‘for it is the moon that begets love’s tragedies’
I’ve walked in the valley of storms, where the shadows are
most bleak, the bleakness most deep. stumbled along to
avoid the cracks in the road, & I’ve heard the tolling of the
bells; they toll for me.
on lonely nights, I imagine a woman in her peasant blouse &
barefoot. her beckoning arms reach for me, but when my hands
attempt to embrace her, they come away empty, because she is
merely a mirage cast in the rain.
the angels have laid down in sedimentary beds, & saints know
what it means to sin.
I make stories about a drifter, soldier of misfortune, who drinks
whiskey & smokes to see visions in the grayish billows. he
accuses his woman of doing vile things with other men. in his
craven, drunken rage, he beats her. & when she is bruised &
tearful, he carries her to bed, spreads her legs, & f*cks her.
these morbid tales, this is my art, by which I seduce the forlorn &
forsaken, to ease my loneliness. & if I say I love you, that is the
cruelest poem. poetry in a man who has none.
what can I offer a mistress? a heart that is distant. kisses that
sting. & hands that would beat you, to suffer with me in the
valley of storms.
my poems are whores – they’re shameless…
(Art: Francesca Woodman)
Published 3rd Jul 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 17
reading list entries 2
comments 14
reads 1515
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
3rd Jul 2016 8:08pm
Fine and melancholy work from a "soldier of misfortune."
"these morbid tales, this is my art, by which I seduce the forlorn &
forsaken, to ease my loneliness. & if I say I love you, that is the
cruelest poem. poetry in a man who has none."
A man without love might take comfort in his work.
" my poems are whores – they’re shameless… "
There's some grim joy in that last line to make up for a broken mistress. Your shameless whores are a marvel.
"these morbid tales, this is my art, by which I seduce the forlorn &
forsaken, to ease my loneliness. & if I say I love you, that is the
cruelest poem. poetry in a man who has none."
A man without love might take comfort in his work.
" my poems are whores – they’re shameless… "
There's some grim joy in that last line to make up for a broken mistress. Your shameless whores are a marvel.
3rd Jul 2016 8:16pm
Emotional poetry here, John, and I like the dark you portray.
Guess that make me a stand-by and watching whore.
"I’ve walked in the valley of storms, where the shadows are
most bleak"
You betcha. I think I have passed each other during one or two of these sad walks.
Guess that make me a stand-by and watching whore.
"I’ve walked in the valley of storms, where the shadows are
most bleak"
You betcha. I think I have passed each other during one or two of these sad walks.
Anonymous
3rd Jul 2016 8:53pm
Oh love, you rip and shred me
to pieces of papyrus.
to pieces of papyrus.
3rd Jul 2016 9:06pm
3rd Jul 2016 10:20pm
Being a man is a simple thing.
Being accepted for showing the full spectrum of manliness is so much more difficult
Sir John, you illustrate well the parts of us that those who love our strength and labor try so hard to remove
Thank You
Being accepted for showing the full spectrum of manliness is so much more difficult
Sir John, you illustrate well the parts of us that those who love our strength and labor try so hard to remove
Thank You
4th Jul 2016 1:45am
an incredible writer, storyteller you are JohnFeddeler ... perusing the deepest corridors, where few would have the courage to venture ...
Anonymous
- Edited 9th Nov 2018 2:45pm
4th Jul 2016 2:54am
<< post removed >>
4th Jul 2016 4:19am
When a man cannot love himself,
They will refuse to allow anyone else.
But in their hearts, they wish the sun
would drown the broken light of the moon,
if but only once to finally get it right.
Beautiful poem, John.
They will refuse to allow anyone else.
But in their hearts, they wish the sun
would drown the broken light of the moon,
if but only once to finally get it right.
Beautiful poem, John.
4th Jul 2016 9:21am
any shame would be
such wasted emotion, mister feddeler ...
... your whores are too beautiful
to feel such inconsequential things
xo
such wasted emotion, mister feddeler ...
... your whores are too beautiful
to feel such inconsequential things
xo
4th Jul 2016 5:51pm
" poetry in a man who has none" - being coy, trying to pull wool over our eyes? You are a master at conveying the paradoxes of intense feeling.
Anonymous
6th Jul 2016 2:33am
Sir John, the day you be considered a man who has no poetry is the day the earth shall stop moving...heart was gripped by this write...With love always - Taryn xoxo
6th Jul 2016 4:12am
Wow,very intense,JohnFeddeler.An enjoyable read that sparks on the deeper side of all of us.As it should.
6th Jul 2016 8:04pm
John your poems are anchors in a chaotic world for me..
phantom women, a stoic man who will never be claimed..
pure bliss..
p.s the last line is a killer..
love Crim
phantom women, a stoic man who will never be claimed..
pure bliss..
p.s the last line is a killer..
love Crim
9th Jul 2016 7:39pm
Why have I not been following you?
The gritty vivid poet on a quest for temporary content...where you goin next brother?
The gritty vivid poet on a quest for temporary content...where you goin next brother?
