Dark Lady Poetry - David Hughes




David Hughes







I see her from the corner of my eye
scrubbing a pot that would be better left to soak
but her back is turned
and I don’t know anything is happening
until I receive no answer to my question.
I stop mid sentence and turn
to see her lips moving
as though she’s whispering secrets to herself.
My words are turning to ice in my throat
as I say “Don’t go Jeckel. Don’t go.”
I watch the soft lips which dripped honey
become as thin and cruel as a vipers.
“No Jeckel; don’t go! I need you here with me.”
The last sparkle dies and her eyes
are as flat as a shark’s.
“Come back Jeckel.” I whisper, “Come back.”







If hope should come to me today 
I’d write a poem to wrap around her body 
I’d write with a quill pen  
in indelible ink upon her skin 
starting at the areola of her right breast 
And proceeding across her belly 
her hip and ending somewhere 
on her left thigh. 
Then I’d kiss every word  
and all the spaces in between 
and it would be my opus. 
I’d take a photo of her dressed in poetry 
and hang it on a wall somewhere 
dedicating it to hope for all lost souls.




The Big Race Sunday



Linda said she’d had enough of working fifty  
hours a week to pay the bills and he  
never w
on a race with that god damn car. 
Spending all his time with it in the ga-rage. 
Said she didn’t know if he was jacking it up 
or jacking it off but for all she cared he could fuck it.  
He had a different version though; said he  
caught her “foolin’ around” and kicked her out. 
“The bitch didn’t know how good she had it.” 
Now she’s out in the bars “whoring it up.” 
but he don’t have time to worry bout that 
and still be ready for the track this weekend. 
She was always whining about paying the bills 
and him working on his car 
but she’ll be seeing things in a different light. 
“She’ll come crawling back.” You’ll see, but 
he’s going to make her beg a while before  
he lets her in, after he wins the big race Sunday.









David Arnold Hughes is a retired Firefighter from Kansas City. He calls himself a Coffee House Poet and is often found reading his poems in coffee shops, bars or book stores around Kansas City or other areas. He has performed twice at the Plaza Literary Festival and his work has been published in several journals including Thorny Locust, I-70 Review, Yellow Mustard, Unquiet Desperation and The Downgo Sun. David has published two small books of poetry; Fire Eaters and Stained Glass Women -- Blue Chair Press, 2005 and The Sound Time Makes -- iUniverse, 2008.