Hope And Gratitude

stay with me on this island of hope
you and me
 be mine
together walking nude on the golden sand
of this amazing love

while the ocean breezes wash over us
I give you my entire being
receive me with certainty
this love will be
forever yours

the gods know, my love for you
they've heard my prayers
imploring life to give
one more day then
to stay with you

each day I look towards the sky
thankful for the blessing
that is you
gratitude
I am you, you are me
 
time would cease in cold seconds
the sun would never shine
rarely would..
the moon make light
without you, in my life

an empty vessel I would become
left  navigating this life without the light
from the heavens
if suddenly I turned around
only to discover you weren't there
 
 

Written by
Daniela Voicu and Rory

©Daniela Voicu & ©rj2009

Voyage With The Voyeur

an incidental glance
crystallized into an enduring trance
comprised of a vision in blue
she was immersed in releasing her truth
lavished by her own touch
she also felt a stare
having reached eden, her body erupts
becoming increasingly more aware
a river of silky essence flows
someone else has now come to know
a deep sigh as she luxuriates
in the afterglow
ecstasy
and then the watchful eyes radiate
the bliss of a shared fantasy


Rory


©RJ2008/10

Hey Mister (I Love You)

(short story)

She  would always say to me  “hey Mister”, even though I mentioned to her countless times I preferred that she address me by my given name.

I would always see her sitting on the bottom steps of our apartment building each day as I would arrive home from work.

An annoying young lady really. Always talking to me about something. Always making noise or yelling at the top of her lungs in the hallway. Always so much noise coming from her apartment just above me late at night.

…but I did make sure that I paid her some attention as I realized she was in dire need of it.

She was about half my age with brownish green eyes, slender and shapely but one could tell she was under nourished and did not eat properly.

The tattoos that adorned her body were exquisite. Each integral with next. If one were to look closer you would discover that she was telling her life story. Surprisingly enough the piercing in her eyebrow, nose and tongue accentuated her looks more than they detracted from them.

I remember telling her how pretty I thought she was.
She cried and cried afterward for hours it seemed.

I remember telling her how wretched I thought her attitude was.
She said “sorry Mister, I was born this way”.

I remember telling her to get a job, to get a life, to get up off the steps and do something with herself, to please get out of my way
She would always just politely smile at me.

I can’t get out of my mind the numerous black eyes or the many bruises exposed on her arms and legs. Those raunchy looking strange men that came and went. To see them sickened me.

Each time I asked if she wanted me to intervene with them. She would say “no thank you Mister, I can handle it”.

Every now and then she would come to my door and ask if there was anything she could do for me. Like vacuum the place or wash dishes. I knew what she really wanted was to be where she felt safe for a while.

I would invite her in and immediately she would sit on the couch and fall asleep for hours. After waking she would go take a shower. It was almost like she lived there.

Then of course the parading around in front of me in the nude. I always told her how beautiful she was and then hand her clothes to put back on. Then I would give her some food and walk her to her apartment door.

She would look at me surprised that I would never take advantage of her promiscuous initiations. Then stop herself from tearing up.

Just yesterday morning I banged on her door as the music was way too loud for that time of the morning and it sounded like utter chaos was taking place.
She apologized for disturbing me and the noise quieted.

Later, I brought home some Chinese take out to share with her and we sat on the steps and ate it with our chopsticks. We talked endlessly about nothing in particular really and laughed with silliness, on and on into the early Am.
She said that was the best time she had ever had in her life.

I was late getting home this evening and looking forward to the usual greeting from my troubled friend.  I knew something had gone terribly wrong as an ambulance sat in front of the building.

As I went inside I felt helpless as I watched while Paramedics were taking her from her apartment trying desperately trying to revive her. I could see she wasn’t responding.

The ambulance rushed away and now as I sit here on the steps where she always did. Praying to the heavens not to take her just yet. I think what more could I have done. I can hear her raspy voice in my mind. She would sometimes say to me, “Hey Mister, I love you”.

I would grumpily respond by telling her I thought she knew nothing about Love. This hurts and I could just kick myself right about now.


Rory


©rj2010

Mystery At The 39th St. Brothel

(short story with senryu’s)

He emerges from his limousine after it parks in front of the immaculate three story brick mansion in the suburbs on 39th street. Known for its sexual commerce and sultry indulgences, it is THE place to go for a vice binge. The front door opens and a cloud of cigarette smoke drifts by, while hearty laughter and the piano man’s melodies also graces the night air. He joins in the atmosphere and is greeted with a VIP welcome as he has an appointment. Little was he aware how his life would change...

it was her first night
adorned in lace and fine silks
her looks astonish

*
a demure virtue
with an impeccable figure
he claims her as his

*
her enticing smile
beckons anonymous touch
pleasure must commence

*

a toast with champagne
putting to rest her fears within
they both find comfort

*

with sheer enjoyment
playful banter and laughter
how fast time goes by

It was well worth the three times over the normal asking fee he paid for the time spent with her that evening. For once it felt good to be in the company of a woman and just be himself. Satisfaction had been found and it did not take a sex act to achieve it.

He promptly made arrangements with the establishment so as he would meet with her every night at the same time. Absolutely no one else was to touch her. She was bought and paid for. With his clout as the one the most wealthy and respected businessman in the city, there was no way his request could be refused.

For months their meets continued and by this time, they had grown accustomed to each other. They had given each other pet names and claimed to have fallen in love with one another, this without once ever sharing a physical union. Never did a day go by without him seeing her. However, it’s now been three days since his last visit, time to get reacquainted. He arrives….

relief in her eyes
absent was his reassurance
she felt abandoned

*
to see her again
meant that he still has purpose
she is all he has

*

her tears of anguish
reveals a somber spirit
how will she tell him

*

moments of despair
broken hearts grieve in silence
life can be unjust

*

he has lost his will
what remains has no meaning
her body defiled

Investigators never could put a finger on exactly why he took her life and then turned the gun on himself. It was widely known that he was  a major patron, besides, it was widely understood why he would be there in the first place. His wife, fought and lost her battle with the debilitating effects of lung cancer. Just three day ago, he buried her. Still to them, for this tragedy to occur seemed somewhat odd.


Rory


©rj2010