December Snow

     In the want of sunlight the galvanic streetlamp shines its false securtiy. Rejected by those he loves, his courage belittled he is the once pious bird beating imoulded wngs in regret. The day ends and he sleeps on the shadowy cot of sour lies.

 

     With a shepard's manner, and timid cry he awaits God's notice. But God defers his glory for those he alone deems worthy. Standing under the wood structure in Satan's yard he shields his face fromthe cold December snow falling in May, and hiding his newborm path in its white softness. His mind swans to a more joyous time, before he lived on borrowed sorrow.

 

     The silky seductive goddess doth tempt our valliant paladin, like a siren in Poseidon's employ she calls him to the rocks. Her dancing shape is held forever in his serene eyes. He like a deffeated warrior with a gladsome spirit will her bidding perform, his soul lrft scattered axross the property of some unknown foe.

 

-Johnny V

www.createspace.com/4703766

Vile Whims

She exhibits to the world silk and pius robes, but they only hide her goddless heart. Her unfermented smile is but a curtain for an uncivil tongue. Many dance to her birdsong, yet she takes private delight as they tumble cold and tangled in betrayal. As one defeated soul walks away familiar of her true nature, she welcomes two delightful spirits strange and awkward to her vile whims.

She projects the splendor of Heaven's guilded ceiling, instead delivers the foul stench of Hell's lonely ghetto. Her words, warm and dipped with honey are merely a false voice masking her verbal defecation.  She gauges her victories not for how many pass through her bed chamber, but by how often they crawl away from her lair hopeless and shattered.

Dragon Bone

Her honey tainted promises sour with the stench of decite. I clean my lips, and lick my fingers in defeat.

Midnight knocks and shuts out the light. While I lose the scent of summer from my sight.

She holds out the joy of heaven to my eyes. But I soon learn it is but unreachable lies.

For a moment of her concern I would but murder the world. Her fangs glisten with the moon, their cold venom unfurled.

Upon my soul I carry her purpose alone. Longing ever to touch the seared flesh from the dragon's bone.

www.createspace.com/4703766

Lust

               Her piercing stiletto heel tears at the leather flesh of my sitting room chair. Her nails through the dark layers of my tender back, streams of scarlet roll past my childhood scars. We kiss and her lips, drip of honey softer than sugar’s piquant sister. The whisper of her name opens her maiden softness willingly to my stern lust.

                I violate her joyous flesh and bite her neck as she calls out to the goddess who grants us this pleasure. She taunts my ridged manliness, we move in perfect synchronicity and become lost in the haunting inclination. Her nails continue their luscious journey down my back, as she rises and falls in our joint delight. I imbibe at the dark stiffness of her capped bosom.

                She strains under the shivers of her freed body, and I pulse harder still, nearing my tolerance. As I call out the name of my tender mistress, she silences me with her warm mouth and tongue. Our breath mingles and the pleasure we share nears its peak. Our bodies blend into one as we both let go our particular need, releasing the result of our lust.

-Johnny V.

www.createspace.com/4703766

Babe

     She remains unseen for well-nigh one circled journey of earth across the sun. Those awaiting her arrival speak only of the possibleness of her beauty. They spent countless, nervous and cool nights praying that she will enter their sanctuary as strong as Venus in her meridian. Many were the moments of both fright and joy when God did check their fortitude without completion.

      Then one soulless thunder occupied eve movement is at last palpate. He like a soldier to his post is quick to measure his duty. Although well practiced he is clumsy with his tasks and she smiles through her pain. The interval to those who shall aide in the passage is short yet to them time stands quiet.

       The clock ticks off with great pain and fear leaving the crowd at times unsure if the tiny angel's journey will be successful. But God has trust in this radiant spirit so she enters loud and fresh.now wrapped in mother's clutch she is still as a whisper yet creates outcries of happiness with a single glance.

-Johnny V.

Cradle of Regret

     Once I craddled regret in my hands but as I brought it to my lips it tasted bitter and rotten. So confine regret away from your plateau, dine ye on mercy and love. I laid anger in my bowl but it was flavorless and stale, I pushed it aside and served forgiveness, suddenly my pallet was chock-full and sweet. Then I was constrained to sip of despair  but it fell dry upon my tongue. Finally filled my cup with the milk of tenderness.

 

      Today I put aside infantile emotions and painful aesthetics. Today I sour my mind to unthankful spirits. I regret those unable to verbalize of grace. My soul can no longer ingest these, it cannot be sustainedon emptiness and fear. I willnot consent my heart to wither upon the vine of false pride. Leave my aspect any and all who doubt my purpose or refuse my hearth. For I have come too far to accept only cold and causal agency.

-Johnny V.

www.createspace.com/4703766