THE JEALOUS WIDOW

           His childhood, long gone now pressed between the folds of some ancient text. He conveys his condition looking out over the bough as the cruel frigid sea twist reddens his pale cheeks. He is distressed by his contrast desires, how can he both hate his mistress while longing for the bounty of God’s bedewed creatures hidden within her cold blue bosom.

            She, at home remembering the very moment he, the watcher of her emotions departed. Needing him to stay and defend the hearth. The spoilt stench of his avoidance still adorned the air just beyond her tender nose. He would withdraw, as before into nothingness, leaving her to fend the harshness alone. So, like the docile and uncertain child longing for her mother’s reassuring hand she places her soft foot upon the path. Calm within her warm soul of her wise choice.

            The cold wet storm brutally scrapes at her window frame. She knows he is unsecure and at the clemency of the sea. Jealous of how she, the sea calls to her lover even when his feet are dry and The fastened to her bedroom floorboards. She knows that he could never truly belong to her. As she surveys the far away waves tossing aside long lost, and soulless vessels. She secerns that he soon will grace her entranceway again.

-Johnny V.

Happiness Alludes Me

Peace and joy are so often out of my childish reach. Worry and guilt cloud me and pierce my gentle side. I clutch at my iron heart, while hopelessly trying to wrap each lazy limb. Contentment is but fleeting to my troubled spirit like the drop of morning dew upon the dying rose.

-Johnny V.

Resistless Attention.

"I have a use for you." She told me a lifespan ago, but my heart has yet to pretermit the memory from its violet gloom. She used me for a brief instant, since then my inclination for her has not faltered, nor lessened inside my dark eyes.

By practice she discards her wanton lovers like picayune scraps of grit hidden gingerly inside her finespun table-linen. Me, she kept by her incline like a token of esteem given her by an admirer, with a hero's wandering eye.

I jerk at her pleaded skirt, like a wounded and needy child begging for its mother's resistless attention. She grants me one timid glance then brushes me aside like a pesky flea. She has a beauty that could peak the marvel of total strangers. I the straw boss, once robed in warrior vesture, alone behold the shroud and empty grave.

-Johnny V.

Abysmal Joy

In her grasp, I am clouded with confusion and dubiety, for she speaks mildly but with forked tongue. Her lavishness and kindness captured my vision and heart at our first foregathering. She holds my heart in her cold hands, and does so with careless regard. She nestled her unfermented concern like a farmer’s water pump, my devotion persists like a mountain stream, and my arousal flows freely. She enjoys keeping me in the shadows always wondering her next footmark to come, her abysmal joy in my tortur’d heart doth lie. From her burnished throne, she manipulates my every incite, watching my hapless reactions.

-Johnny V.

Stench of Betrayal

She fastened the expectation of tenderness in my eyes, only to reject and refuse my access. She holds back my gaze just long enough to hypnotize my needs, then turns from me with dismissal. She requires that I cling to her bosom, but it is chilled and stiff. I plead to her in need of fondness and compassion, but I am met only with lips shut and words unsaid. Her breath is as the rose who's unfold scents the air. It lingers just above my soul becoming sullen with the stench of betrayal.

-Johnny V.