Her Favor

My meager attempt to win her favor makes the lonely giants smile. Their delight in my clumsiness is but to mask their fear that I may one day be victorious. They are weary of her, for her joy unsettles them, and they see that even their minor folly has woe.

It is her mercy that undermines their deficient penance, her compassion frightens my unpleasant fiends, sending them to suffer like malignant flightless birds living at the edge of nature's sanity. In her embrace I can with unbent brow fight and curse the bigots yet unable to my empty spirit reprove. Upon approach my slumber is at last beguiled.

Leaving my troubled past in the wake like an untuned kettledrum. The once powerful demons now awash in the familiar olfaction of Saint Gabriel's traitor. My worry like a child trapped in a four dollar room. My doubts halted in deep thick snow like a half armored gladiator.

-Johnny V.

Hoaser's Drum

Life, frail and brittle can pass from us without admonitory. We struggle against a the strain of death each day, never aware of the next crook. Doomed to fleeting time under a Monarch's blade.

Lover's enter our realm and pass in the flutter of a humming bird's wing. Hold tight like a Hoaser's Drum to the joy of the savior's endowment. Lose not the heart of childhood revery.

-Johnny V.

Unholy Fervor

His damp, white, and sick skin is his single joy. He Lourdes it over those less affluent than he. Like a scant phantom of power, he takes refuse in those who adore him, and stokes the embers of the unholy fervors. His desire to rule clouds his deranged and absent brain.

But those whom he torments will not accede to his immature ascendency. He, left in his hapless pale world doomed to sue detractors in vain. They know that though tyrants may prevail they like even the most meager of men shall pass too into oblivion. So, at a prudish pace they suffer his Lilliputian arrogance, and understand that hate shall rise and crepuscule as have all unwholesome men before him.

-Johnny V.

-Johnny V.

Ruddy Liquid

Her brittle, aged and broken fingers close tightly onto my fate. She squeezes and the ruddy liquid slips out from her cold grasp. I cry out for warmth, like a former slave still begging for his master’s petition.

Forced to battle violent tree-lifting waves, as they crash across my damaged tin roof. I try to stand tall for I know Heaven’s glory can be won only after Hell’s gore. But time has ravished my scenes of youth leaving me hoary and weak.

Her silence is colder than God's refusal of Lucifer's tragic plea. Never have I received cuts so thick I know their healing will not pass till my guarded demise, as too my love for her.

-Johnny V.

-Johnny V.

Closed

I turn to see you, a cigarette between your loveless lips. The orange burns the darkness as you fill your black lungs. Your skin once soft with youth, now dry and blemished with age. Your eyes once pools of love, now only awant for joy. Withal you almost stole my heart.

I saw beauty where only falsehood doth lay. I felt fondness where only a frigid soul exists. Your mouth that once spoke only honey scented words, now but a stank chasm for swine. I once held you captive inside a pallid and unfolding moon. Now I know your soul is but an empty chamber of Rome.

Oh why did my heart alight in thee? For you know foul my air with the bodies of your old lovers unburied. Your once gentle unrestrained spirit, now only a transient celebration of vague worth. Yet still men do clamber to your bosom unaware of the swindle of death that awaits them. I was an angel trapped in a golden web, now free of any of your wiles.

-Johnny V.

Penny's Stain of Soot

He cries for her company, but she is sorrow's obedient mistress, and she prides her accomplishments. She is surrounded by the scent of immortal mist, and doth like the Janus mask plays the face of the destroyer and preserver at once.

He attends to her passion as she sits upon her canopied throne of gold. He, renders his unmannered essence, to her yet she denies him even despoiled bread. He must brook his inclination for her, she savors her skill with but a penny's stain of soot.

He like an imperfect frond will float on her sea of beguile, leaving him as direful as mice on a cave. As he sinks into the shoal of dampness left praying to her unremaining Gods. Powerless is he to deny her, so will turn to dust, less his fame. Whilst she joins with Surtr and consumes his stimulus.

-Johnny V.

Soul Mate

The sound echoing in the room was unmistakable.
The seductive click of a woman's high heel shoes.

I turned and saw her, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
She had long dark hair, bright green eyes, and legs till Tuesday night.

As she approached I was spellbound, her smile melted me.
Her eyes saw thru me like inexpensive glass.
There was a lump in my throat, I tried to breathe but could not.

Try after try, no air at all.
This woman has taken my breath away, could this be my soulmate after all this time?

I just had to speak to her.
I struggle to get enough air to form the words for my special angel.
I get enough air and finally speak.
"Excuse me miss you are standing on my oxygen tube."


-Johnny V.

Childish Riddles

The stale stench of racism drips from his violent fangs. His helpless prey trembles in fear. They troll the river of damaged dreams with broken nets. Mad as birds they cling to the low-slung branches of hope.

            He will not tarnish their prospect, nor diminish their desires. For they know he is a weak vile man solving childish riddles upon his golden throne. He often gets cold on his moral high ground, and will die alone with hatred in his soul.

Yes, they will suffer through the summer of no children but like accidental saints they shall never allow sadness to sweeten her tea. They shall rise above the detest as did generations past, and life beyond their expectations and flourish in the land of plenty.

-Johnny V.

Delapidated Children

I watch doubtful lovers upon broken horses.
I know our time is at an end.
A false friendship closes like the lost battles of yesterday's warriors.

Its with majestic sadness that I lose my grip on the balance of life.
So I crawl inside my silent realm of misery.
Your lies and betrayal remains to feed on the misspoken dreams of dilapidated children.

Your dark eyes like sour stains in my soul devour my very essence.
I hold tight to your honey words, but they die like neglected seeds tossed on the rocks.

-Johnny V.