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deepundergroundpoetry.com
baby, hurt
why did you have to be so beautiful?
when you can get away, you make the thirty mile drive
out to my cabin. you bring romance & music, in an
attempt the shatter the gloominess within these worried
walls. but the gloom is too thick.
I’ve told you to leave the romance behind, I crave only
the sex. you come here to be my whore.
in the back room, the old oak desk bears the burden of
my dishonorable past in loose diaries. stacks of bent &
broken poems, travesties that pleaded to be written.
when we fuck, you are on your hands & knees, as I impale
you savagely from behind, like a hideous, demented thing.
this act of love is not meant to love you, but to hurt you –
two holes: twice the torment.
at the moment of my bitter release, you turn to face me,
( a monolith of cock, & nothing more)
my ejaculate storms, to stain & give credence to your prettiness.
I grab your hair & slap you then, your left cheek, your right
cheek. you suffer, you suffer for me, as your tears merge
with the dripping gobs.
then I stand back to assess what I have made of you:
a weeping Madonna.
…my shotgun hangs apprehensively on a rack. I took one
bullet & carved you name on it, in rococo lettering. not your
nickname but your full name, to get the utmost impact of
your beauty. it’s my greatest work of art.
I’m saving it for when you leave me…
(Art: Duboscq-Soleil)
Published 15th Jul 2016
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likes 12
reading list entries 4
comments 10
reads 1262
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
15th Jul 2016 7:13pm
15th Jul 2016 7:15pm
Pain is pleasure in the hands of a maestro. Hopefully you won't have to put that shotgun to any use.
15th Jul 2016 7:28pm
I missed the errors in this when I posted it.
too late to edit, I would lose too much,
so the poem remains scarred...
too late to edit, I would lose too much,
so the poem remains scarred...
an intensely powerful write JohnFeddeler ... hope you can keep the piece haltered...
15th Jul 2016 8:00pm
Fuck me. That packed a whole-hearted, eat and consume and endure me, punch.
16th Jul 2016 6:49am
Anonymous
16th Jul 2016 8:00am
ouch! John, this is like a slice of a western movie..thrills and frills..i hope we get to see a sequel of..;)
16th Jul 2016 9:06am
The energy of this is neither palpable or visceral - its presence is more than that - you've captured the physicality of emotion in words
16th Jul 2016 1:12pm
The hidden emotions come out... when we finally inflict enough damage, we dare not blame ourselves...I too keep a pretty box of name engraved bullets...awesome my friend.
17th Jul 2016 00:39am
Well John, this is....a sinister poem...and quite a dramatic presentation of the attitude 'I want your sex, fuck the feelings...'
I enjoyed this slight deviation from your usual words...
I enjoyed this slight deviation from your usual words...
