deepundergroundpoetry.com
love is the last whore
sad like the rain, she writes;
she gets awful poetic when she misses me.
if I’m down with a dame, she must’ve walked the streets.
I figure there’s a little woman in every whore,
and a little whore in every woman.
I help her strip, ‘cause I didn’t come here for poetry. I grab
her kinda rough & kiss her hard, I ask her if this is what she
wants, I tell her to say my name.
John, she says, and yes….. yes.
after the rain, a strobe light effect makes the curtained window surreal:
maybe it’s the rolling moon, maybe passing traffic. the blue mood of
the night lays thick on us, a drifter who stumbles awkwardly into the
anger of sex, & a girl who never wanted to fall in love.
my mouth is quick & brutal, deep into the blushing tribute of her
vanity, as I taste the honeyed venom of desire. the things she says
add up to the dirty words in a trashy love story, & the way she says
it breaks my heart.
sure, my pistol-whipped paragraphs always sound like a merger
between desperate noir & despicable fantasy, but if told you
her name, you’d know it was real.
a tense goodnight lingers mutely in our eyes & the rain begins again
as I drift back to my solitude, contemplating the vision of her pretty face,
where I’ve left dripping reminders of myself…
(Art: Gary M Photo)
Published 15th Oct 2016
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15th Oct 2016 9:36am
a tense goodnight lingers mutely in our eyes & the rain begins again
as I drift back to my solitude, contemplating the vision of her pretty face,
where I’ve left dripping reminders of myself…
Yes,John,poetry in the falling rain,so pretty. And what beautiful artwork...
as I drift back to my solitude, contemplating the vision of her pretty face,
where I’ve left dripping reminders of myself…
Yes,John,poetry in the falling rain,so pretty. And what beautiful artwork...
Anonymous
15th Oct 2016 6:03pm
Enticingly lured by your words... taking deep breaths..
🎃Trish
🎃Trish
15th Oct 2016 10:00pm
The fifth stanza is so well laid out!I love the wording and the images you drawing out of my mind with this piece!
16th Oct 2016 10:31am
sure, my pistol-whipped paragraphs always sound like a merger
between desperate noir & despicable fantasy, but if told you
her name, you’d know it was real.
... Love this stanza, "pistol-whipped paragraphs" great metaphor!
Every time I read you I want to watch an old Bogart movie while sipping' whiskey.
between desperate noir & despicable fantasy, but if told you
her name, you’d know it was real.
... Love this stanza, "pistol-whipped paragraphs" great metaphor!
Every time I read you I want to watch an old Bogart movie while sipping' whiskey.
Anonymous
17th Oct 2016 4:33am
Sir John, these lines got me, elegant and stimulating as always....
"my mouth is quick & brutal, deep into the blushing tribute of her
vanity, as I taste the honeyed venom of desire."
*
"I drift back to my solitude, contemplating the vision of her pretty face,
where I’ve left dripping reminders of myself…"
With love always - Taryn xoxo
"my mouth is quick & brutal, deep into the blushing tribute of her
vanity, as I taste the honeyed venom of desire."
*
"I drift back to my solitude, contemplating the vision of her pretty face,
where I’ve left dripping reminders of myself…"
With love always - Taryn xoxo
