Submissions by JohnFeddeler
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
My poems are blue collar; they work hard.
white lace
221 reads
2 Comments
*** Desert Rose ***
a single rose on a rosebush, in this barren land
what keeps you alive?
strength of will, a guardian angel, & love’s own dream
for which you survive.
the rain won’t come, & the sun will beat you
are you trembling?
the stars at night, their softening light, a small delight
the dark winds bring.
this song becomes a silent sadness, not the fairy tale
that it may seem.
the desert rose weeps all alone, & the dream of love
is only a dream…
what keeps you alive?
strength of will, a guardian angel, & love’s own dream
for which you survive.
the rain won’t come, & the sun will beat you
are you trembling?
the stars at night, their softening light, a small delight
the dark winds bring.
this song becomes a silent sadness, not the fairy tale
that it may seem.
the desert rose weeps all alone, & the dream of love
is only a dream…
176 reads
3 Comments
the Lust of Poets
504 reads
0 Comments
anisette shots & a hooker
it's late. the bar's gettin ready to close. the last business suit stumbles
out the door, after arguing with a girl that he a was annoying. she comes
over to me,says got a light? I pick up matches from the bar, fire up her
virginia slim. I'm in town lookin into a business deal that didn't pan out.
she's got dark hair, but kind of an Ann Sheridan look to her. I look at the
bottle she's holding: Colony Grace Anisette.
I ask, does she want to come to my hotel with me. she says what I expected
her to say: I don't come cheap. I say no problem, let's go. in...
out the door, after arguing with a girl that he a was annoying. she comes
over to me,says got a light? I pick up matches from the bar, fire up her
virginia slim. I'm in town lookin into a business deal that didn't pan out.
she's got dark hair, but kind of an Ann Sheridan look to her. I look at the
bottle she's holding: Colony Grace Anisette.
I ask, does she want to come to my hotel with me. she says what I expected
her to say: I don't come cheap. I say no problem, let's go. in...
196 reads
1 Comment
Sub Miss Eve
759 reads
5 Comments
sinful desire
these visions pervade the sanctum of my lecherous
thoughts, so that I must reveal them in the blackest
ink on the whites page, to quell the storm of temptation...
they emerge in Spring, in diaphanous clothing, to be
caressed by the warmth of a blossoming summer sun.
they gambol & dart like faeries, blithe spirits of Shelley's
poem, but fleshed with the form of a not-quite woman,
these fragile wonders who have breathed the air for just
over seventeen years, but a span yet from nineteen
(just legally beyond child-porn.)
they entice &...
thoughts, so that I must reveal them in the blackest
ink on the whites page, to quell the storm of temptation...
they emerge in Spring, in diaphanous clothing, to be
caressed by the warmth of a blossoming summer sun.
they gambol & dart like faeries, blithe spirits of Shelley's
poem, but fleshed with the form of a not-quite woman,
these fragile wonders who have breathed the air for just
over seventeen years, but a span yet from nineteen
(just legally beyond child-porn.)
they entice &...
260 reads
2 Comments
phantasy dancer
she moves naked onto the stage,
slow, seductive, a somnolent cat.
the gray shades of this temple reveal
only one color: her red Rita Hayworth hair.
the drum-noise of Night Train, tempestuous tempo,
high decibel, conquers the room, and claims the
back rooms where the other dancers wait,
sniff, shoot up, impale themselves...
to escape their sordid reality.
insistent speakers vibrate, the naked girl writhes,
her fingers tangled in her hair.
hips gyrate, to the left, to the right, hypnotic,
demanding, kindling Desire's fire. ...
slow, seductive, a somnolent cat.
the gray shades of this temple reveal
only one color: her red Rita Hayworth hair.
the drum-noise of Night Train, tempestuous tempo,
high decibel, conquers the room, and claims the
back rooms where the other dancers wait,
sniff, shoot up, impale themselves...
to escape their sordid reality.
insistent speakers vibrate, the naked girl writhes,
her fingers tangled in her hair.
hips gyrate, to the left, to the right, hypnotic,
demanding, kindling Desire's fire. ...
262 reads
3 Comments
Lesbian Sex
the enchanting vision of two naked women
mesmerizes me, their glowing bodies remaining
baby powder dry, utterly free of the glisten of sweat,
as they engage in their tender choreography.
they touch & smile & kiss, these ombres of
ethereal elegance, and cavort playfully, until it
ascends to an angrier state, whereby they begin
gnawing at each other's tenderest flesh, like
pre-civil creatures absent of propriety.
voyeur of lascivious angels on satin,
I fall into the pit of their specatcle, journeying
toward...
mesmerizes me, their glowing bodies remaining
baby powder dry, utterly free of the glisten of sweat,
as they engage in their tender choreography.
they touch & smile & kiss, these ombres of
ethereal elegance, and cavort playfully, until it
ascends to an angrier state, whereby they begin
gnawing at each other's tenderest flesh, like
pre-civil creatures absent of propriety.
voyeur of lascivious angels on satin,
I fall into the pit of their specatcle, journeying
toward...
1173 reads
1 Comment
virgin whore
206 reads
2 Comments
f**k me with poetry
i am lost in my art. in this poetic wilderness where time & society do not exist. the coward of me would do poorly at suffering slings & arrows, so i hide in my igloo armored with cusioned walls, away from the indians, with my pen the only divining rod that keeps me afloat, & all of the ocean's surface to write upon. up the quivering horizon, & further upward, & across the sky perched on my back like michelangelo in the chapel, until god spits in my face in his disgust. poems & dreams & miscalculations & roadblocks, periods & parens & the dot dot dot...
193 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by JohnFeddeler