Jon-Luc

Jon-Luc May 2019

Our tongue-tied minds are
interlaced with the heat of the moment
Fill my mouth with your saliva and
be pleasured by the roiled and rolled ridges of my tongue.

Thoughts dripping through my teeth, Unable to speak them
As her warm breath burns gently into my skin
Her tongue dances between each thought

Hearts palpitating for the next sentence
Drowning in her saliva, choking on paragraphs
That have yet to be moisten by her
Soft voice.

Tell me you love me

#tongue #kiss #love #moist

Jon-Luc May 2019

******

I laid listening to rapid music.
A flow of gothic fusion,
refusing the lull of that to reuse it.

This is the great illusion,
a hero to them of mass confusion.
The myth and curse of ******,
a high with little need of intrusion.

Introducing the conclusion,
scarecrow thin self-satisfied skeleton.
Because the ego needs no bone with marrow in.

#****** #drugs #death

Jon-Luc Apr 2019

Stop

I stopped waiting for reciprocation that would never arrive,
I stopped leaving the doors open for you when we left,
I stopped letting others give me the purpose you
Once gifted.
I
Started
Anew
To
Renew

#stop #anew #renew

Jon-Luc Apr 2019

Catharsis

Enigmatic locks of brunette hair let out a cathartic release
Now watch as the man flees with the upmost glee
As he is faced with emerald gazes
Fear
Fear                                  Fear                                              L
                                   Fear         Fear                               o
                                                                                     v
Fear                                                                      e

Not of the reaper but which was sown
Of ones own ilk.

Envy    H
   Envy                                                          a                                         Envy
p
Envy                       p
                                 Y

Even Narcissus was brought down
In a pool of his own grandiosity

                                            Doubt
Doubt
                                                                                Doubt  No more

#catharsis #slef #love #happy

Jon-Luc Mar 2019

Thy Kingdom

From my throne, I gaze at her
In our busy kingdom, I only look for her;

From my throne, I listen to her songs
It sounds likes the choir singing;

From my throne, I read her poetry
Her words paint pictures that no artist could paint;

From my throne, I see her weep
It feels as if my first born son has died;

From my throne, I love her
Even though, I am afar up in my palace;

From my throne, I feel as if she is my wife
Even though, we are not wed locked in holy matrimony;

From my throne, I cast many stones
Even though, her house is made of glass;

From my throne, I fall
Even though, I have wronged I hope she catches me.

#love #second #chances #kings

Jon-Luc Mar 2019

Years Later

When I was Five,
My mother told me I was loved
Years later, she loved me with her fists
For I was the vessel for her to re-enact the scars left by her step father.

When I was Ten,
My Foster Father told me I was the son he never had
Years later, I was the son he never wanted
As my “Real” Family was weeds to be pulled from his garden.

When I was Fifteen,
My friends told me I was there for them.
Years later, they would all abandoned me in my time of need.
What a Gullible and Naïve teenager I was for thinking friendship was a two way street.

When I was Twenty,
The love of my life, Told me that I was worthy of love
Years later, she would tell me that I was un-lovable
What a fool I was to over look my obvious character flaws.

So, I’m sorry for not having faith in us,
For doubting your intentions, endlessly questioning you
When you told me that you wanted to marry me because
I didn’t want it to wind up years later.

#foster #pain #love #hate #years

Jon-Luc Nov 2018

Time

The warmth of your body next to mine
Unaltered and ever present to my own
To lay here simply yearning for an almost
Infinite supply of time to spend on each other

Like the hopeless dreaming of how they
Are to spend lotto winnings not yet won
We mustn't wither away among frivolous
Thoughts of time we have yet to spend.

When the hands of the clock have arthritis
Seconds slow,
minutes pass,
hours cease to exist.

The past is not to last
Nor is the future the cure to our ails

Your nails look awfully like the time
Slipping through our clasped hands

#time