deepundergroundpoetry.com
my heart is secret
‘do you dance, pretty girl?’
‘ I’m a dancer,’ she said. & that was enough.
under tall lamp lights, & beyond that, a summer moon & stars that sparked,
we glided in freestyle steps on barricaded city streets. there were Beatles &
Rolling Stones; black singers & Mexican & females in short dresses; songs
about love & heartbreak & loneliness in a distant place that was foreign to
us. melodies that rocked, & rolled on waves in the air from piped-in music.
youth gets older & the world becomes violent. jeans & sport jackets are
exchanged for uniforms, & I’m taken to a place where battles are made.
sometimes the nights are quiet. our duties are done, our weapons are clean,
& we sit in the gloom on bunks & foot lockers. one man rolls a joint, prime
weed, & it is passed around. when my turn comes, I suck in the bitter smoke
& hold it. hold it. hold it. then release, & the smoke carries away fragments
of the fear that erodes inside me. the war is close, & it doesn’t matter, & the
girl, the girl is far away, & neither does it matter.
on other nights, on streets where there is no dancing, the only march I make
is from one bar to the next, & the girls I meet have not been girls for a
long time. we talk a little & finish a cocktail, & I know I will fuck her when
we’ve settled on a price.
my life proceeds. I drink, I drive cars too fast. I make a little money & I drink
again. the music has moved indoors to a great dancefloor. the songs are
hard as metal, the dancing is a frenzy of blasphemous emotions. I am made
of sex & nothing more.
the years drop away like broken soldiers, & when a man can no longer dance,
he writes. these nights have fashioned me to be alone, & I wonder: where was
my heart? if there was love, the words were spoken briefly after sex, before
the flames burned out entirely. there were a few women who thought they
knew something, but there was nothing to know.
my heart is a secret, even to myself…
(Art: Heather Carr)
Published 14th Jan 2017
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 21
reading list entries 7
comments 17
reads 1657
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
14th Jan 2017 10:22am
14th Jan 2017 10:27am
14th Jan 2017 10:33am
'my heart is a secret, even to myself…'
Breathtaking, John, reads like an auto biography,
a telling of one man's struggle to unlock such secrets.
Perhaps one day, he will.
What a lovely shade of poetry....
Breathtaking, John, reads like an auto biography,
a telling of one man's struggle to unlock such secrets.
Perhaps one day, he will.
What a lovely shade of poetry....
14th Jan 2017 1:44pm
Although perhaps you cannot dance any longer your words dance across the page and we hear the music playing. What a marvelous poem Mr F. I loved it.
John
John
14th Jan 2017 1:56pm
14th Jan 2017 2:00pm
Oh John. It is in reflection that realization blossoms and Life truly begins.
Beautiful poetry.
Beautiful poetry.
14th Jan 2017 3:40pm
John you always take me away somewhere else with your poetry..
with this to your youth and foreign places, war and women..
into a heart that is a mystery..
beautiful..
love Crim
with this to your youth and foreign places, war and women..
into a heart that is a mystery..
beautiful..
love Crim
Anonymous
14th Jan 2017 6:23pm
i agree with brenda,
i am always transported
from my circumstances
when stepping into your worlds.
loved this
xo
i am always transported
from my circumstances
when stepping into your worlds.
loved this
xo
Anonymous
15th Jan 2017 3:08am
John, this was bloody brilliant...I read this slowly and took in every vision which you placed upon this page..it was almost slow motion...every scene which you took me to...every step within your lifetime...you are incredible...and my lines here...
"we talk a little & finish a cocktail, & I know I will fuck her when
we’ve settled on a price." - you had heart behind lock and key early on....and even now you question whether sheltering it was worth the many paid prices of admission...frickin adore you....With love, always - Kitten xoxo
"we talk a little & finish a cocktail, & I know I will fuck her when
we’ve settled on a price." - you had heart behind lock and key early on....and even now you question whether sheltering it was worth the many paid prices of admission...frickin adore you....With love, always - Kitten xoxo
Anonymous
15th Jan 2017 5:22am
I've forgotten how beautiful & tragic
your mind is, John,
and how your poetry packs a poetic punch;
noir & gritty & heartbreaking.
But regardless of the bleak,
you always manage to capture it
brilliantly.
Always, A L W A Y S
in awe of your trinkets.
~your Devlin/Doll
This is an effective interweaving of bravely honest storytelling and poetic style all in one write; amazing, your best one yet......
15th Jan 2017 8:52pm
The secret is: to forever be isolated within ones own feelings - very restricting ( and I think, unhealthy ) but hey, fairy tales are rare .
Like this =)
Like this =)
15th Jan 2017 9:32pm
I'm not much of a dancer but I won't sit this one out. Fine work, secrecy or no.
15th Jan 2017 11:59pm
Truly breathtaking JohnFeddeler ... vivid imagery ... and such an amazingly honest write ... "the years drop away like broken soldiers" .. so many other lines that stand out ... transported , yes
16th Jan 2017 7:40pm
Truly a giving Write John...in this world transparancy tends to be cryptic...proof of just how high the guard is up.
If only pain felt good lol
Your tales shine and Your truths bleed!!!
If only pain felt good lol
Your tales shine and Your truths bleed!!!
18th Jan 2017 4:37pm
6th Feb 2017 7:01am
