- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Whore Whispers
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The sky weeps its sad warm scream,
the raindrops slamming blindly
into the street.
Miniature plumes spitting at
the night, marking each death like
a whore seeking
absolution, tears cursing
at her as she awaits the
nervous shuffle
of change in the master’s purse.
The weak smile reward for hope
found on her knees.
Silence the emptiness, and
resolution becomes that
same rain hiding
from the contempt of truth just
as quickly as guilt hides from
the wanton leer
of her recent lover. And
the whore whispers, “Does rain scream
before it dies?”
- COMMENTS
tarablackwood22over 19 years ago...from start to finish. There is not one word here whose presence can even be questioned. This is terrific!
Anonymousover 19 years agoStrong writing:
"of her recent lover. And
the whore whispers, ?Does rain scream
before it dies?? "
tungtied2uover 19 years agonot so much a repesentation as an identity here, an identity in sync with the prostitute. A nice twist on the use of rain. Thanks jd4.
* thermometer off
Tathagataover 19 years agoare so many phrases here I could comment on...but the rain as a " sad warm scream" is perhaps the best.
Rain as tears is cliche' but I didn't feel it here.
That last line...perfect.
This paints a moody gritty street scene and some where in there is hope.
Excellent work
Anonymousover 19 years agoBeautifully written as always. Your poetry is moving, yet contains a wonderful rhythm. Hope to read more from you in any format or style.
Mike (diddler1944).
