deepundergroundpoetry.com
No light
The position shifts. Cars drive away. Light is black. He squints to watch her drop a grey coat on grey pavement, step out
onto the street.
"Here,"
She giggles, removing shoes, spinning on tar with bare feet and rhythm, dark eyes and taunting hips. "Now." He heaves, the very soul within needs to bite. And this bleak life
is barely worth anything
living on almost seconds
of heat
and sweat,
on books telling children what it could be and adults writing it off in modern time. The position shifts, her fingers wrap, desperately, around his upper-left thigh. There's an unspoken delight, silence floods oxygen, pastel floods darkness. Claws
crawl the length of his body,
the knees and ankles, the hips and breast, the shoulders, the neck, the ears,
until lips to lips,
until the death of innocent torment.
onto the street.
"Here,"
She giggles, removing shoes, spinning on tar with bare feet and rhythm, dark eyes and taunting hips. "Now." He heaves, the very soul within needs to bite. And this bleak life
is barely worth anything
living on almost seconds
of heat
and sweat,
on books telling children what it could be and adults writing it off in modern time. The position shifts, her fingers wrap, desperately, around his upper-left thigh. There's an unspoken delight, silence floods oxygen, pastel floods darkness. Claws
crawl the length of his body,
the knees and ankles, the hips and breast, the shoulders, the neck, the ears,
until lips to lips,
until the death of innocent torment.
Published 25th Mar 2013
| Edited 26th Mar 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 1
comments 4
reads 1095
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
I chickened out...felt dumb about my crit and erased it...short of it, was that I really love the write, and think that the structure could be more transparent in revealing whats great
26th Mar 2013 5:20pm
Oh no, I read it! I was really grateful. It was honest and constructive. I prefer that! Personally I think the poem was about the bigger picked and words such as 'step' and a few others need to break out to show change in time. I do completely understand where you are coming from though and I have always known my work is not a masterpiece, I think I just write to write these days. Thank you, lightbaron. No chickening ;)
Anonymous
5th Apr 2013 4:23pm
This could be categorised as an erotic poem. It's certainly better than a lot of the sub-porn which infests that genre. Your work here is neat, sharp and vaguely menacing. You have a gift for sensual, sinister narratives; you evoke action wonderfully, not something every poet can do. What I mean is that when you describe a lovemaking session or violence I can really picture what's happening.
My one criticism would be that the longer lines might be more effective if you break them down; when I run into them, after several short lines, they become a bit laborious as my eyes drag across the screen. JMHO, of course. Thanks for the read.
My one criticism would be that the longer lines might be more effective if you break them down; when I run into them, after several short lines, they become a bit laborious as my eyes drag across the screen. JMHO, of course. Thanks for the read.
5th Apr 2013 5:11pm
Thank you, I was tempted - I suppose the fear got within my bones. Someone once said to me my lines were too short - that they should last as long as the sentence, so I'm trying to meet my own preference of short, snap-me-up lines and the idea that a full sentence should be read on the full page. Thank you again! Honoured.
