Neglected Wind-chime

The fragrant mephitis of hopelessness lingers upon my tongue long after I have inquired of her. Her deceit hangs on my being like a neglected wind-chime noiseless in the silent air.

Like a beehive that expels its swarm, she liberates her past lovers, doomed to meander pathless woods, like shrunken fragments murmuring at her feet.     

She is brawny and proficient at being the affectionate parasite. Leaving those in her wake with damaging wounds yet unknown.

Those who flee grasp at innocent determination, but alas plunged into damp solitude. For she, agelong has been in Don Juan's favor, since Rome first embraced her heroes.

But the ill-omend who fall under her spell, doomed to eek out dark centuries of shame, in a sad unallied existence. Their forgotten epitaphs written with the smallest of crow-quills.

Their souls dispiritedly begging the lone withered branch to reveal her new leaf.

-Johnny V.

Winter Thin

I'm anguished by a mad-brain, trapped forever within an idiot skull. With a deep enduring and untremendous might. I cumulate my wearisome objects to my twisted majestic heart, ready as ever with its hollow mockery. My redemption stands near my garden of despair watching my demise with contemptuous indignation.

Still forever labouring inside my frozen gloom listening to Satan play his fistulous lute. With the passing of each malignant hour I grow winter thin and stale as I sip shamefully from my bewildering cup of delight. Never will I know the girl from the depths of the sea. For I am allowed only the assist of long forgotten and drowned deities.

- Johnny V.

The Engine's Roar

The rage of the engine stained her ears and moistened her femininess. Resilient black tires tossed rocks and dirt with little care. She felt the vibrations first in her soft, dark, bare toes. Then it rose along her silky and endless legs. She quivered as it touched her newly shaved space.

As before his steely, cold, black eyes hit her, and instantly she again was his. He stepped out of his car, the 360 four barrel still running. Drowning out all other sounds. Although she knew not his name she approached him. He took her into his arms, and drew her into his broad chest.

She could smell the scent of gasoline,  engine grease, and sweat. The way he wore his laboratory made her weak and helpless. He kissed her hard, his hot tongue flooded her small mouth. She grabbed his razor stubbled face and kissed him back.

Suddenly he took hold of her dark hair. She expected him to pull her closer to him as he was apt to do. Rather he rejected her lips, keeping his grip on her hair,  he took her forearm. He moved her, rough enough so she knew he was in control, but soft enough not to hurt.

When they reached the back of the car he picked her up and set her on top of the trunk. He reached underneath her dangerously short denim skirt, took hold of the crotch of her wet panties, and in one moved her tore them apart. He again kissed her as his thick fingers entered her wetness, she gasped. His kiss was hot, hard, and wet. His fingers thick heavy and strong.

With one final expert flourish he turned her over. She could feel the cold steel of the car on her hard nipples through her white blouse. His zipper came down and with a deep throated grunt he pushed his very hard, and thick cock into her eager pussy.

Beneficiary of his Wisdom

Big dreams became his very early, his skill with the sketch pencil brought him mighty praise.  Soon life's duty took hold as his path changed. Forced was he to leave the role of youth and brother to assume the parent tree, hanging his desire on the topmost bough.

His strength not only of body but of heart was known and borrowed far and wide.  With his countless skills and abilities, saying no was the hardest to accomplish. And when his nation requested his sacrifice he went without question. A select few would ever hear his grotesque sights in that time of fervent martydom.

She understood and loved him as none before. His devotion to her was gentle and complete. Those who came from that love became his joy and happiness. His pride in them floated to the ears of all he spoke to. From that moment his destiny was complete.

As one of those lucky four, my ability to repay the debt owed to him can never be met. He bestowed upon me not solely how a man must live but the proper acts of a husband and father. I will forever strive to meet his examples, and fall short more often than not.

His all too early departure on the wings of golden feathered eagles left a void in so many.  He rose thru tender clouds, to become part of Saturn's Fleet. But his love and mark will remain forever in hearts and souls of all he touched.

I owe not only my presence to him but my goals and aspersions. For I am forever a beneficiary of his endless wisdom. I love you dad.

-Johnny V.

Country Men

The sight of her brazen brow is finer in the light of tourch bearing slaves. For she is exalted in God's embrace. The powerful sound as his angels blow their monstrous horns.

Her voice is hope holding out its hand in the dark, and its sounds are of a calm-throated  and dream filled prophet. Under her watch those with loud endeavoring tongues are sent noiselessly into the darkest nights.

With one coquettish smile she can command bronzed centurions with spurring heels to march forward to their doom. Yet with the same she turns dilapidated streets into pleasant turf filled paths crowded with sweeping sandals.

From such far-foamed sea shores, noble winged creatures flee from their god of torment to her slumberous solitude, and
adoring tears. She can turn those with fanatic obstinacy into country men in a comfortable misery. Content to remain brickmakers and unwilling to disturb her slumber.

-Johnny V.

Sailor's Lament

When she walks by even the sea-king bows his dripping head. Her soft feet lightly mark the walk but leave blanced soil for all who follow.

Her beauty, bequeathes even rebellious tempests, abandoned and begging at the door of the almshouse. She can with ease entrust the most herculean of men with vigorous cravings, each crying an urn of lonely tears.

She leads the most powerful to the altar of the dying, forcing the most devout sailors to allow the ocean to swallow their very stealth.

She alone finds support within the very jagged rocks that take ships to their ultimate doom. As she sits alone draped in golden robes, and pride. The inviolable lovers of the sea become forever a part of its salty realm.

- Johnny V.