deepundergroundpoetry.com
give sorrow a woman's name
it’s the kind of hurt that washes down with tears.
but I never learned to cry.
that’s why tough guys don’t fall in love. her face is part of the
sickness in your belly & you can’t drink it away. & her kiss, so
sweet you could die from it. when a woman says ‘I love you,’
she’s saying ‘I will hurt you.’ little by little. & then all at once.
she met me for cocktails at the Chelsea hotel & I spilled my
guts about how she dragged me thru backstreets paved with
broken glass. her sarcasm hit me right between the eyes: ‘are
you so f*ckin stupid you think you’re the only one that hurts?’
then she goes on about how I got mean & slapped her around
a little too hard, a little too often. sure, like I never had a reason.
take the night she went to the library wearing the fishnet
stockings & the pearls I bought her, then came home without
the stockings.
there’s a lonely place that echoes the whispers of the rain
& a blue-eyed crooner sings a lovesong’s sad refrain: it’s the
corridor of my last dream & she danced me to the end of it.
‘it’s funny,’ she says. ‘there are so many things that I’m unsure
of, except that I loved you.’
so I will have another drink & write out the sadness
in my heart, recherché & melancholic,
like the naked lines in bad poetry…
(Artist unknown)
Published 8th Aug 2016
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likes 11
reading list entries 4
comments 9
reads 2009
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8th Aug 2016 1:52am
Life I used to think was a sexless thing... but I have learned, over and over, she is a woman. Another moving write, thank you.
8th Aug 2016 2:35am
"so I will have another drink & write out the sadness
in my heart, recherché & melancholic,
like the naked lines in bad poetry…"
John there is always beauty in the depths of your soul and pen..
masterful ink that draws you in..
love Crim
in my heart, recherché & melancholic,
like the naked lines in bad poetry…"
John there is always beauty in the depths of your soul and pen..
masterful ink that draws you in..
love Crim
8th Aug 2016 2:47am
when a woman says ‘I love you,’
she’s saying ‘I will hurt you.’ little by little. & then all at once.
Truer words have never been spoken
Well written
she’s saying ‘I will hurt you.’ little by little. & then all at once.
Truer words have never been spoken
Well written
there’s a lonely place that echoes the whispers of the rain
& a blue-eyed crooner sings a lovesong’s sad refrain: it’s the
corridor of my last dream & she danced me to the end of it.
A very lonely place,John.......
This was a very stirring read,the artwork the perfect accompaniment.
& a blue-eyed crooner sings a lovesong’s sad refrain: it’s the
corridor of my last dream & she danced me to the end of it.
A very lonely place,John.......
This was a very stirring read,the artwork the perfect accompaniment.
Anonymous
- Edited 8th Nov 2018 00:49am
8th Aug 2016 7:57am
<< post removed >>
8th Aug 2016 9:03am
Maybe she ruined them on a nail in a chair and didn't want to walk home with laddered fishnets... Love stories about love stories.
Anonymous
8th Aug 2016 3:37pm
‘it’s funny,’ she says. ‘there are so many things that I’m unsure
of, except that I loved you.’ <<<Yes it is funny when love is not measured with the same intensity. It will never be one size fits all.
of, except that I loved you.’ <<<Yes it is funny when love is not measured with the same intensity. It will never be one size fits all.
8th Aug 2016 11:21pm
Tough guys write some pretty fine poetry. I like that library anecdote for some sardonic humor in the midst of sorrow. No naked lines here, just plenty of style and rich detail.
4th Sep 2016 6:46pm
