deepundergroundpoetry.com
dark desert highway
when I’m on the road, running away from a woman,
or trying to get to a woman, I stay strictly in seedy motels.
I wouldn’t feel right in a place that has class. there’s no
poetry.
meals in a coffee house by the bus station. strong coffee &
a grilled cheese sandwich. my mug topped off by a waitress
who’s gained some wisdom in her years of servitude. catches
me glancing at her uniform where the buttons are undone,
the white of her bra peeking out as if it were my business.
she knows the lies a man will use to make her feel like
slipping out of her dress is the right thing to do. but maybe
in her heart she’s a gypsy like me. maybe she recognizes the
knowing in my eyes, & in my hands. my fingertips gliding
across the electrons on her skin, finding the spots that will
make her moan ‘oh yeah right there!”
tracing insistent nips on her shoulders & the back of her neck,
my lips burn for it! & hold me baby, hold me close, as if this
were once & never again. (sure I’ll leave, but I’ll take a piece
of her with me.)
call it two strays in their naked reverie, stealing a poem out of
all that is lonely. call it sex if you need to brand it.
but in my vanity, it’s a sojourn into passion that needs no name.
…at the window, the curtains tremble like a Bavarian waltz as the
wind blows in from the desert; the moon paints a silver tint into the
languorous glow,
and as I watch her sleep,
I will write something romantic & sad…
(Art: Damon Loble)
Published 9th Jul 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 20
reading list entries 5
comments 15
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
9th Jul 2016 6:28pm
Wow.......takes my breath away.Your words take me to interesting places where beauty lies in wait.Nicely done,as always
9th Jul 2016 6:41pm
Fine work. A waitress can be a goddess to a lonely man. You show your usual deft touch for erotic noir atmosphere. Good luck on that highway....
I have looked at that waitress a number of times.
A few times she allow me to be creative with her.
Then she she showed me what "real" creativity
was all about.
A few times she allow me to be creative with her.
Then she she showed me what "real" creativity
was all about.
9th Jul 2016 7:20pm
9th Jul 2016 7:34pm
So lovely..."call it two strays in their naked reverie, stealing a poem out of all that is lonely" this is just brilliant my friend...much ♡
I have always believed that poetry is born from the dark spirits
of our souls, and is what brings light to the world of beauty.
We, as creators, manifest that which we ourselves seek.
Beautiful, John.
p.s. - love the hotel California hint
of our souls, and is what brings light to the world of beauty.
We, as creators, manifest that which we ourselves seek.
Beautiful, John.
p.s. - love the hotel California hint
Great lines: "call it two strays in their naked reverie, stealing a poem out of
all that is lonely" and "the curtains tremble like a Bavarian waltz as the
wind blows in from the desert; the moon paints a silver tint into the
languorous glow, "
You made me think of writing a poem about train station cafes...
One quibble: I wish in this line - " finding the spots that will
make her moan ‘oh yeah right there!” - you would have stopped after 'her moan'. The next words are obvious, and don't fit with the rest of the poetry.
all that is lonely" and "the curtains tremble like a Bavarian waltz as the
wind blows in from the desert; the moon paints a silver tint into the
languorous glow, "
You made me think of writing a poem about train station cafes...
One quibble: I wish in this line - " finding the spots that will
make her moan ‘oh yeah right there!” - you would have stopped after 'her moan'. The next words are obvious, and don't fit with the rest of the poetry.
Anonymous
10th Jul 2016 1:36am
first, i will now have Hotel California in my head for the rest of the night.
second, you paint the most beautifully sad pictures with your words. well done, feddeler!
third, i also agree with MayRayn about the line making her moan. the quote sticks out and is a slight distraction.
second, you paint the most beautifully sad pictures with your words. well done, feddeler!
third, i also agree with MayRayn about the line making her moan. the quote sticks out and is a slight distraction.
10th Jul 2016 7:54am
Words forming stories
Making imaginations run
No riot cops on duty here.
Another fine piece of storytelling John x
Making imaginations run
No riot cops on duty here.
Another fine piece of storytelling John x
10th Jul 2016 4:40pm
10th Jul 2016 10:29pm
11th Jul 2016 6:24am
Hi my darling knight,
you shred me to
pieces of sanguine
breaths..
No words love, none
at all. I've been feeling
too much since this
late evening as it spilled
into my now.
Adore you deeply
-Howlings
you shred me to
pieces of sanguine
breaths..
No words love, none
at all. I've been feeling
too much since this
late evening as it spilled
into my now.
Adore you deeply
-Howlings
Anonymous
11th Jul 2016 6:49pm
Oh Sir John, you do melt me every frickin time one way or the other....
"…at the window, the curtains tremble like a Bavarian waltz as the
wind blows in from the desert; the moon paints a silver tint into the
languorous glow,
and as I watch her sleep,
I will write something romantic & sad..."
With love always - Taryn xoxo
"…at the window, the curtains tremble like a Bavarian waltz as the
wind blows in from the desert; the moon paints a silver tint into the
languorous glow,
and as I watch her sleep,
I will write something romantic & sad..."
With love always - Taryn xoxo
11th Jul 2016 8:00pm
17th Jul 2016 8:17am
John, the opening three stanzas are solid, fine detail that really set the scene and characters, then you tie it all up with the window curtain waltz and the silver tint of the moon. Stellar poem, sir.
