Submissions by JohnFeddeler
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
My poems are blue collar; they work hard.
nerium love
Cry for me. with your big brown eyes.
you will love me when I’m here,
& long for me when I’m not.
better hide your heart, girl,
deceit is my calling card.
I’ll adore you as the world’s most beautiful woman,
she who stepped out of Pygmalion’s desire,
then rush out to the whores in the street,
while you dream in the red shadows.
I’ll steal the orchids that bloom in your ragdoll fantasies
& deposit your affection in the nearest dumpster.
in the market, they will call you mistress of misery,
indiscreet inamorata.
...
you will love me when I’m here,
& long for me when I’m not.
better hide your heart, girl,
deceit is my calling card.
I’ll adore you as the world’s most beautiful woman,
she who stepped out of Pygmalion’s desire,
then rush out to the whores in the street,
while you dream in the red shadows.
I’ll steal the orchids that bloom in your ragdoll fantasies
& deposit your affection in the nearest dumpster.
in the market, they will call you mistress of misery,
indiscreet inamorata.
...
131 reads
2 Comments
riding her
(inspired by ‘she being brand new,’ E E Cummings)
Edward said she’s new, very new (Virginal, you might say)
but she’s been properly tuned
and lovingly lubricated
we, being over-anxious, almost prematurely
flooded her engine
the stick shift is sticky, we misjudge
and jam it in (reverse)
she bucks like hell!
we regain our composure, slipping properly thru the gears,
low into 2nd, and, by the advantage of studly horsepower,
vigorously into high
cruising now down that divine highway,
we floor the gas pedal and she responds...
Edward said she’s new, very new (Virginal, you might say)
but she’s been properly tuned
and lovingly lubricated
we, being over-anxious, almost prematurely
flooded her engine
the stick shift is sticky, we misjudge
and jam it in (reverse)
she bucks like hell!
we regain our composure, slipping properly thru the gears,
low into 2nd, and, by the advantage of studly horsepower,
vigorously into high
cruising now down that divine highway,
we floor the gas pedal and she responds...
206 reads
3 Comments
absolute women
what devious mind designed the bikini?
did he realize how it would torture me?
and I speak for every man in whom beats the heart
of the savage beast, whose prime directive is to
copulate, and populate the earth.
a fragile strand of almost nothing, xilinous fibre
covering nipples that elongate in the licking breeze.
a whisper of fabric concealing nocturnal lips, pearlescent
gates that harbor the home of all human desire
(her pleasure treasure).
and when this did not sustain my lustful appetite,
I traveled to nude beaches in Jamaica, to...
did he realize how it would torture me?
and I speak for every man in whom beats the heart
of the savage beast, whose prime directive is to
copulate, and populate the earth.
a fragile strand of almost nothing, xilinous fibre
covering nipples that elongate in the licking breeze.
a whisper of fabric concealing nocturnal lips, pearlescent
gates that harbor the home of all human desire
(her pleasure treasure).
and when this did not sustain my lustful appetite,
I traveled to nude beaches in Jamaica, to...
395 reads
5 Comments
W: the other scarlet letter
198 reads
7 Comments
she's a shadow
wide as the gap from star to star:
the one you profess to be –
the one you really are.
* * *
she’s a goddess. she makes love like she owns the patent.
her whip spits at me, & ribbons the skin on my back.
then she licks her lips, & hands me the whip…
she’s pious when she’s not blaspheming. disregard the
harlot street clothes, & you’ll swear she’s God’s daughter.
she’s a temptress who will take you for one night, & you’ve
jimmied open the back door of heaven. in the morning, the
cold rain...
the one you profess to be –
the one you really are.
* * *
she’s a goddess. she makes love like she owns the patent.
her whip spits at me, & ribbons the skin on my back.
then she licks her lips, & hands me the whip…
she’s pious when she’s not blaspheming. disregard the
harlot street clothes, & you’ll swear she’s God’s daughter.
she’s a temptress who will take you for one night, & you’ve
jimmied open the back door of heaven. in the morning, the
cold rain...
201 reads
4 Comments
what is this thing called Woman?
I have spent time with women.
women who have made love with me for
weeks and months that stretched into years.
they have broken me and healed me,
only to break me again.
I have given my days and my nights and my heart to
women. they have taken all of these, and devoured them.
grabbed a bone, perhaps a rib, to use as a toothpick.
when I have crawled with a woman into
the tight, brief cocoon of orgasm,
when I have sucked upon various parts of her body,
and I have thrashed upon her tenderness
like a rabid, beheaded beast,
when she...
women who have made love with me for
weeks and months that stretched into years.
they have broken me and healed me,
only to break me again.
I have given my days and my nights and my heart to
women. they have taken all of these, and devoured them.
grabbed a bone, perhaps a rib, to use as a toothpick.
when I have crawled with a woman into
the tight, brief cocoon of orgasm,
when I have sucked upon various parts of her body,
and I have thrashed upon her tenderness
like a rabid, beheaded beast,
when she...
309 reads
2 Comments
* Blue Denim Rose *
a casual affair of a summer, fair
the gardens we strolled were in fragrance
denim & lace, & the blush on your face
we were caught in the net of romance
so the flames were ignited & the lovers delighted
we harnessed the moon for a ride
we were wild & swift. we let our hearts drift
unaware that the moon has a dark side
our passions were wed
in a looking glass bed
& we dreamt of forever & a day
but summer skies end
& the cold rains descend
the storm swept the roses away
the gardens we strolled were in fragrance
denim & lace, & the blush on your face
we were caught in the net of romance
so the flames were ignited & the lovers delighted
we harnessed the moon for a ride
we were wild & swift. we let our hearts drift
unaware that the moon has a dark side
our passions were wed
in a looking glass bed
& we dreamt of forever & a day
but summer skies end
& the cold rains descend
the storm swept the roses away
154 reads
4 Comments
(in a black mirror)
those silent screams are making me brain-deaf
this immaculate spirit you proclaim -
prevaricator of intrepid ‘art’ …
how can you distinguish your Self (the ish of it,
the vanity) in a black mirror?
the rainbowed warrior, undaunted in the face of adversity,
mounting insurmountable odds;
a heart and soul, seeking unwavering love and inscrutable divinity;
can these support the weight of reason?
a muse, conscripted, whipped into un-expiring dedication
to fill a hollow desire…
these absurdities you spill onto ashamed pages,...
this immaculate spirit you proclaim -
prevaricator of intrepid ‘art’ …
how can you distinguish your Self (the ish of it,
the vanity) in a black mirror?
the rainbowed warrior, undaunted in the face of adversity,
mounting insurmountable odds;
a heart and soul, seeking unwavering love and inscrutable divinity;
can these support the weight of reason?
a muse, conscripted, whipped into un-expiring dedication
to fill a hollow desire…
these absurdities you spill onto ashamed pages,...
131 reads
2 Comments
Bloodrose Garden
(written with BlackVelvetRose)
in the garden along the path we walked
as the breeze rode upon soft sighs
and silent whispers played with innocent smiles.
a rush of fevered glances under the majestic trees
while their canopy’s dance and sparkle with emeralds green.
the leaves fall silently with each caress, each embrace
pooling at our feet only to be whisked away by the northern breeze.
as they dance upon their tattered edges
shining as silver stars within this prism of moonlight
falling upon the calm stream, cradled asleep in...
in the garden along the path we walked
as the breeze rode upon soft sighs
and silent whispers played with innocent smiles.
a rush of fevered glances under the majestic trees
while their canopy’s dance and sparkle with emeralds green.
the leaves fall silently with each caress, each embrace
pooling at our feet only to be whisked away by the northern breeze.
as they dance upon their tattered edges
shining as silver stars within this prism of moonlight
falling upon the calm stream, cradled asleep in...
176 reads
2 Comments
A is for Apple (said Hester Prynne)
this unkind fate that you relate:
& you pontificate that I might abdicate the throne
& leave you here alone to your demise. your sighs
your eyes your lies. the words you write that I can’t read,
the strangling night, your poisoned creed,
the purple passion you proclaim – decaying fashion
of your shame. abused by your own hand, abuser!
I take the stand as your accuser. the ground
you tread was never green. your heart is wed
to lust obscene!
the scene is where you go to shine, & offer up
your soul divine. the line was ever...
& you pontificate that I might abdicate the throne
& leave you here alone to your demise. your sighs
your eyes your lies. the words you write that I can’t read,
the strangling night, your poisoned creed,
the purple passion you proclaim – decaying fashion
of your shame. abused by your own hand, abuser!
I take the stand as your accuser. the ground
you tread was never green. your heart is wed
to lust obscene!
the scene is where you go to shine, & offer up
your soul divine. the line was ever...
145 reads
2 Comments
province of darkness
403 reads
6 Comments
Hills of N. Wales (with Magdalena)
I see them in visions, those glorious hills,
So princely and ancient, sublime and serene.
The hills of my home and the folk I abandoned,
For the lure of the city that led me astray.
In childhood memories and bluebells ringing
Skipping through their majesty as they bow.
Smiles in thoughts of a lover’s gentle touch
And the moon my guardian still lighting my way.
As a child, I tumbled, delighted and loud,
All tangled and twisted in giggles and merriment.
And here, I dallied with a lover, carefree
And careless, with the moon admonishing me....
So princely and ancient, sublime and serene.
The hills of my home and the folk I abandoned,
For the lure of the city that led me astray.
In childhood memories and bluebells ringing
Skipping through their majesty as they bow.
Smiles in thoughts of a lover’s gentle touch
And the moon my guardian still lighting my way.
As a child, I tumbled, delighted and loud,
All tangled and twisted in giggles and merriment.
And here, I dallied with a lover, carefree
And careless, with the moon admonishing me....
137 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by JohnFeddeler