"Vanessa"

Vanessa

There was once a very busy man who worked for a law firm. He worked long hours and his boss gave him a hard time on a regular basis. His mainstay is usually that of a very relaxed, mild-mannered person; but after months of stress and pressure from his job, he felt as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. After finally reaching his weekend off after working two weeks straight, he just wanted to go home and relax. He arrived home Friday evening and promptly fell into is favorite recliner so that he could read his newspaper and hopefully take a nap or two. His plans were sure to be averted, though; due to a small yet very significant miscalculation: His nine year old daughter: Vanessa.

Vanessa loved her father with all of her heart. She likely favored him over her mother, even; due to the fact that he is slightly more willing to offer incentives to her. Vanessa and her father used to go on their own little outings regularly before his big promotion at the law firm; but she rarely gets to see him nowadays. She was obviously elated to find him home; so she went to greet him and spend some time with him. He sat there with his head buried deep within his paper; but removed it slowly when he felt the presence of someone else in the room. As he removed the paper from his face, he saw his daughter's face light up with a smile bigger and brighter than the sun itself. 

He didn't really have to guess what his little girl wanted; thanks mostly to the huge smile on her face. She reached out to hug him and he grabbed her with his right arm to give her a kiss and a big hug; but before she could relay her request, he issued one of his own: "Vanessa, can you give me about five minutes? I want to catch up on some of my reading." Not the least bit disappointed, She nodded her head and went to her room to go play with her dolls. 

Five minutes flew by.

 Vanessa returned to the living room where her father sat still reading his newspaper. He glanced up to see her standing in her usual spot directly in front of him; as patient and excited as before. Still extremely tired, he said to her: "Honey, can I have about ten more minutes? We'll go out for ice cream afterwards, okay?" Still determined and very hopeful, she nodded her head once more and skipped back to her room. 

Ten minutes have come and gone.

 Vanessa once again made her short trek back to her father. He was starting to feel slightly more rested; but still needed more time. As she stood there lovingly staring at him, he once more asked her: "Just fifteen more minutes, baby. I'll be ready to go by then." She agreed without even an ounce of frustration and once more returned to her room to watch television. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. 

Vanessa decided to walk slowly back to the living room this time in hopes of giving her father an extra minute or two of rest before they got ready to leave. She found her way back to her familiar position right in front of him. Seeing how determined Vanessa was, he devised a plan that would hopefully occupy her some while he took a nap. 

There was a huge picture of the planet earth on one of the pages of his paper. He tore the page from the rest of his paper, and to his little girl's confusion, tore it into pieces about the size of her hands. He handed it to her with a roll of scotch tape and told her: "Vanessa: if you can finish this puzzle of the earth in good enough time, then we'll head out to the theater to see that new movie you've been waiting on." Vanessa's eyes widened like two huge gems. More excited than she has ever been, she sprinted back to her room to get started. Her father was more than sure this would guarantee at least half an hour of nap time; so he placed his newspaper over his face and nodded off.....

......two minutes have elapsed.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He once again glanced over to see his beautiful daughter with her trademark smile looking back at him; only this time, her hands were behind her back. "What's wrong, honey? Having a tough time with the puzzle?" he asked her. She shook her head no; so he asked her "Well, where is it, baby?" 

With a slight giggle, Vanessa revealed a completely repaired page with each and every part of the planet earth right where it belongs. Extremely surprised, He asked her: "Vanessa, how were you able to complete the puzzle so quickly?" She smiled and replied: "There was a picture of Jesus on the back of the paper. I put him in the middle and the rest of the pieces were easy to put back together."

Moved by how keen his daughter's discovery was, he rose up from his chair, threw away his newspaper, and took Vanessa out to see her favorite movie and then to get some ice cream. 

Every day since then, he lived a stress and worry free life; because he knew that if his daughter Vanessa could find the center of all things, then he most certainly knew who was the solution to any and every problem that was sure to befall him.

"Pink Passion Fruit"

Pink Passion Fruit


I long for the taste.
I still remember the sight.
I lust after it so much,
I can hardly sleep at night;
and it truly never fails.
Every time that I close my eyes,
I still think of that moist confection
resting within her candy-coated thighs.
I want it so much
that mere words fail to measure
how bad I crave that sweet taste
that gives me so much pleasure.
My hunger is beyond suppression;
so I'm always in heavy pursuit
with an insatiable obsession
for her pink passion fruit.


I can't go one day without her.
I'm nervous with discontent
if I can't fill my lungs
with her sugar-sweet scent.
I often reminisce
over the look on her face
when we pull closer to each other
for our dark, forbidden embrace:


We ravage each other frantically
as desire builds in our eyes
just to remove these binding wrappers
of blouses and neckties.
We share hints of plum & watermelon
with each exchange of the tongue.
The mere sight of her exposed flesh
is something no man can turn from.
The perspiration gets more frequent
with each body part felt;
so the sound gets louder
when I gently strike her apple with my belt.
She quickly falls in to bed
and gives me free reign
to partake of the various flavors
that only her body can maintain.
I give unparalleled pleasure
that she will never forget
As I indulge in the butter-rich taste
while I slowly kiss her neck.
Her movements are free-flowing
as I start to lower my head in
so I can playfully lick around
the outskirts of her honeydew melons.
Her anticipation grows
and mine's even more so
as my tongue starts to dance
around her smooth, caramel torso.
She wipes the sweat from her head
as she starts to close her eyes
whilst I nibble ever so gently 
on those same candy-coated thighs.
She feels as if she's lost control;
but she submits freely
and willingly parts her limbs
to allow me to begin feeding.
I imagine the look on her face
as she slips into convulsions
from my lips digging deep with ambition
as I lick with strong, unbridled emotion.
I just love the mixture of flavors;
from tangerine to guava,
then peach-laced mango
and pomegranite papaya.
I continue to feast with vigor
moving my tongue in various motions
until that sweet cherry finally pops
& our bed has become an ocean.


We often give into our pleasures;
sometimes more than once per night.
It would seem as if our desires
are too strong for us to fight;
so I know I'll always want more.
I may never stop my pursuit
to yeild to this undying hunger
for her pink passion fruit.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Stitches And Scotch Tape"

Stitches And Scotch Tape


I try not to move it.
It's tired of being tossed around;
because if it's juggled too long,
it eventually falls to the ground.
Then come the footsteps
of a lost relationship yet again.
that trample through the flesh
that once held so much promise within.
It isn't always their fault, though:
Sometimes, the purveyor of cirumstance
firmly flattens it with his boot
as if to block better happenstance; 
but It just keeps brushing off
the remnants of love that always escape
and pieces itself back together
with these stitches and scotch tape.


I honestly don't know
how this keeps happening; 
but it's evident that my heart
can never evade emotional trampling.
It's as pure as can be.
It doesn't deserve the pain
of being shot, stabbed, sliced,
and thrown out into the rain.
Although this is the constant,
It just absorbs the beatings
and still searches for solace
amongst the realm of mistreatings;
and when it seems too much
for my flustered heart to take,
he uses hope as a crutch
and adds more stitches and scotch tape.


I took every relationship serious;
but my heart became the punchline.
It longs for vibrant, new life;
but always gets left with a flatline
Even when I can't take it
and don't want to try anymore,
He just patches himself up
and hopes that happiness is in store.
I often painfully implore
for him to stop hurting himself; 
but he just keeps dragging hungrily
with a painful optimism that can't be helped;
and even though he's dying slowly,
he still holds on for love's sake
and gets back to bonding & sewing
with more stitches and scotch tape.


Look at him:
A misconstrued mash-up.
A haphazard hodgepodge
of different love components
that have been ravaged
and forcefully dislodged.
He is stripped of all comfort
as his flesh hangs loosely.
He can hardly sustain himself
as he continues to bleed profusely;
so to whoever he ends up with:
Please don't burn him at the stake.
I doubt he can hang on any further:
He just ran out of stitches and scotch tape.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Twisted Elegance"

Twisted Elegance


I've grown tired of this:
I'm done with all the pain;
so give me back my umbrella
and promptly walk out in the rain.
There's nothing more to gain
from trying to keep you near.
I'm finally ready to be free
from what I used to fear.
I'm finished with the tears.
I never really had to cry.
I just look up at the sky
and let the sun dry my eyes.
Buried deep beneath the lies
were all your broken promises.
That dealt me a critical blow;
but not enough to shake my confidence.
I've reclaimed all that I am
and my heart is now at rest.
I used to give a few damns;
but you'll never see the next.
If these words seem too harsh
for you to continue reading,
then feel free to turn the page;
because I am not conceding.
I'll admit: It's truly sad
that it had to be like this;
but after how you've treated me,
I can't say there's much to miss.
There's no need to reminisce.
I can't conjure up a reason
to dwell on how quickly forever
eventually became a season.
I no longer have the time
to notice the writing on the wall.
Life is entirely too short
and I prefer to stand tall.
You were fully aware.
You know the condition of my heart.
Yet without even a somber stare,
You chose to tear it apart.
I loved you with all I had.
Part of me won't let that go;
but time ministers to the heart.
Who knows if again that light can glow?
The structure we built so high
is now void of it's residents.
We seemed to be beauty defined;
but that was just twisted elegance.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Further Than Near. Closer Than Far."

Further Than Near. Closer Than Far.


I hardly ever fall asleep;
but when that time draws near,
I can't help but think about
how I wish you were here.
When my mind is at rest,
I submit freely to my dreams
and thoughts of you always erase
how harsh love sometimes seems.
When my emotions envelop me,
I just lay back and sigh
and that image of you appears
every time I close my eyes. 
I don't know where you are
or when you will appear to me;
but one thing that remains certain
is you are all I've hoped you'd be;
so I happily fall asleep
after staring at the stars
knowing that you're thinking of me:
Further than near. Closer than far.


You're nowhere near my grasp; 
but your presence is enormous.
I have yet to view your face;
but I already know you're gorgeous.
I live for the precious moments
that I spend thinking of us.
I've yet to enjoy your company;
but I still get that rush.
I fancy you when loneliness looms
and your radiance catches my ire
as warmth fills this cold room
whilst my heart overflows with desire.
You effortlessly take me higher
when others could barely meet par.
Distance can never extinguish our fire:
Further than near. Closer than far.


I just can't wait for the day
when I can finally behold your beauty
and melt away this vice of sadness
that constantly strived to subdue me.
It's never easy stepping out on faith;
because sadness usually follows my sublime;
but for you, that chance I'd take
because I know you're my last first time.
I don't need you for means of solace
or to pacify me through my pain
because life has taught me the importance
of thanking God for every drop of rain.
Don't get me wrong: We all need help
when pushing through the muck and mire;
but I want you to be my yearning
rather than something that I require.


I want our love to endure
through the toils of every season.
That will show me your heart is pure;
purging the need to doubt for any reason.
I love how your fair countenance shimmers
even though I have yet to see.
I know you're more than a fading glimmer
of what you promised you'd be.
Our time together is secure and safe.
God always holds firm to what is due
and when he's ready to reveal your face,
His loving light will lead me to you.
You already possess the best of me
as well as the healing emotional scars.
Our love will surely perpetuate destiny:
Whether further than near, or closer than far. 


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Modern Tragedy"

Modern Tragedy


The crowd begins to swell.
The audience takes notice
as the instruments find rhythm
to perform the first opus.
The bright lights slowly dim
and the characters fall into place
before the drapes separate
to reveal this detailed showcase.
This whimsical piece of fiction
is sprinkled with pain and strife;
but to those of modest opinion,
it truly relates to life.
The protagonist free falls
through stints of joy and majesty
before smacking the cold ground
of yet another modern tragedy.


Incensed with unshakeable passion,
wearing his heart on his sleeve,
our main character is firmly fastened
to what he truly hopes to receive.
No matter what befalls him,
he still finds reason to believe
that his faith will be rewarded
and love will grant him some reprieve.
He is inclined to the pattern
that his emotions choose to follow.
The only setback to this path
is that it sometimes leaves him hollow;
but he just pushes through the sorrow
and lets time blow the tears away
as he tightens his grip on tomorrow
without letting go of yesterday.


His train of thought remains intact;
but his emotions are sporatic.
One can't deny the glaring fact
that he's a true hopeless romantic.
He gives chase with little shame; 
even if he appears too frantic.
While some think all love is the same,
he treats each girl like a fanatic.
Those close to him try to admonish;
but he throws caution to the wind
and the crowd is left astonished
by how things turn out in the end.
His heart is always an open field
searching for willing hands to tend;
but when the fruit that grows is crushed,
he is left alone when trying to mend.


The crowd is immersed completely now.
Moist eyes form in unanimous fashion
as they hang onto every word
and latch tightly to any reaction.
Some wanted to lend their effort
and help pull him from this hole.
The actor's current state of being
left so many willing to console.
In spite of what he must endure,
he still stands up with a smile
because he knows God's blessings are pure
and his will surely come in awhile.
His heart's desire will arrive soon;
because true love is not a fallacy.
Besides, one is never truly doomed
to remain in their modern tragedy.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"It's Bedtime"

It's Bedtime


It's bedtime; but for me,
it's never bedtime.
It's just phone down, TV off,
as I examine thoughts in my head time.


In the middle of the night, 
I love to do myself a favor
and let my mind release
the fruits of my mental labor
and as they are dispersed,
I pick those that I truly savor
and carefully construct each verse
before the ink pen meets the paper.
Some thoughts are quite perverse.
Others force mental makeovers;
but they will always be diverse
and none of them are mediocre.
This atmosphere that engulfs me
puts me in the perfect position
to reach deep within myself
as I let out nocturnal emissions.


It's bedtime; but for me,
it's never bedtime.
It's when I climb under the sheets
and give my girl some head time.


I gently manuever past the socks
and use my teeth to remove the panties
whilst I wait for that precious moment
when I get to consume the candy.
I don't always have to stand;
but I know how to deliver
as I french kiss her flower
while her thighs begin to quiver.
I just let her shake and shiver
while my tongue twists the lock.
My inner beast takes center stage
when that craving starts to knock.
It's best to let him run rampant
and just allow him to ravage
because until he's had his fill,
there's no way to tame this savage.


It's bedtime; but for me,
it's never bedtime.
The only difference now
is that I have so much dead time.


I hate feeling confined;
so I just search for something new.
When there's nothing to headline,
It's hard to find something to do.
Maybe it's better this way.
Maybe I should just unwind
and just sit back and reflect
on anything that comes to mind.
I can ponder all the answers
to some of my biggest questions
or take time for what it's worth
and try learning some life lessons.
I can acknowledge what I've done
and what I still have yet to try
and rest easy with my growth
as I thank he who sits high.


Let this setting take it's place;
whether morbid or sublime
because nothing yeilds to your pace
quite like the musings of bedtime.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

Ms. Demeanor

Ms. Demeanor


She used to try to adhere
to what others wanted to be;
But she would always harbor rejection.
So now, she'd rather remain hard to see.
She holds fast to secrecy
without covering her eyes;
because she knows that most people
can't understand what's deep inside.
She is a living absorbsion
of broken promises and incessant lies.
She is mute to this world;
hiding in darkness when she cries.
She is a vessel of immense hopelessness;
too desolate and barren to be a believer.
Screaming loud for no one to hear;
dragging through life as Ms. Demeanor.


She conceals all of her scars;
so only the darkest garments are worn
to cover the lasting remnants
of a love that leaves her torn.
What started out as pure bliss
slowly became her personal sacrifice;
but she knows that if she resists,
She'll likely pay the ultimate price.
He tells her that he loves her
after her body crashes to the floor.
She begs for the ravaging to cease;
but he disregards what she implores.
Abuse leaves her body and heart tender,
giving him free reign to cleave her;
Separating happiness from it's host
till all that remained was Ms. Demeanor.


Her feelings are understandable;
but her methods of coping are obscure.
She is fully aware of this;
but the pain is too much to endure.
Sulking in the relentless shame
that usually follows his trials of wrath,
She surrenders now to her worst habit
in hopes of escaping the aftermath.
The potency is stronger with every prick
and after each dosage, she silently asks:
"God, will this finally be enough
to ensure that this time is my last?"
She hates how dirty she feels;
but has lost her desire to be cleaner.
Her habit purged what she used to be
and only left behind Ms. Demeanor.


Betrayed by countless who pretended to care,
she couldn't conceive any conclusion
that didn't involve hiding from life
as she slips completely into seclusion.
She was always the social recluse;
never allowed to join the commission.
Excluded from everything except abuse,
it was hard to deal with constant omission.
Her perverse means of adjustment
had adversely effected her condition.
Her syringe nor his unstable touch
could send her suffering into remission.
Crushed under the weight of her plight,
convinced that nothing could redeem her,
She relinquished what was left that night;
leaving only fading memories of Ms. Demeanor.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz

"Lust By Midnight, Loneliness By Morning"

Lost in a blur.
Caught in the rapture
of late night text messages
and Saturday night phone conversations.
Sharing thoughts and desires,
ideas and feelings,
in the form of lewd conversing
with extremely detailed articulations.


"Where can we meet?"
"When are you available?"
"Allow me to get lost in you."
"I promise. It'll be unforgettable."


Sitting by the bar,
letting ice melt in her glass
as she observes uncivilized men
drool as they chase a piece of ass.
They're all the same to her; 
but he was different in her eyes.
He was suave. He was smooth.
He definitely took her by surprise.


Her phone begins to ring.
She searches for it among her things; 
and right when she says "Hello?",
the performer on stage starts to sing.
She looks for him in the crowd,
oblivious to if he is near or far.
He tells her: "I'm right here, love."
"Look towards the end of the bar."


With every compliment exchanged
and mixed drink that they consume,
the scent of his cologne gets so rich,
she forgot she even wore perfume.
Rum with a splash of coke
happens to be his favorite vice
while her preferred beverage
is simply Crown Royal over ice.
One or two for him.
One too many for her to remember.
The club is nearing a close;
so she allows him to befriend her.


Pillows as soft as clouds.
Sheets as smooth as satin.
She's too comfortable in her intoxication
to even inquire about what will happen.
Her thoughts danced in drunken delight
as his detailed requests caught her ear.
Her judgement fled with every moment
that their lips were able to draw near.


Slowly disrobing her, he said:
"Just relax now, baby."
"I'll take care of you."
"You have nothing to fear."


Toying with his zipper, she replied:
"I'm not afraid at all."
"Take control of me freely."
"Nothing is better than having you here."


Each kiss felt better than the last.
Her inhibitions were now in the past.
She relinquished all of the standards
on which her sense and rationality were cast.
A Sunday full of inebriation and flirting.
An evening of embracing their emotional rush.
A night of violent tossing and turning
as they perform acts that make most blush.


The air is cold and stale;
but last night's scent was so enthralling.
She says his name twice;
but no one beckons to her calling.
Her eyes open slowly
only for her to discover 
that she is back inside her room;
laying beneath her own covers.


There are no remnants of his visit;
No trail for her to follow.
He was nowhere to be found;
and she began to feel hollow.
Her phone calls went unanswered.
Each message sent saw no reply.
Shocked, ashamed, and humiliated,
one tear after another fell from her eyes.


Lessons were hopefully learned.
A measure of wisdom was earned.
Life demands that we chase desire
with caution for all things concerned.
Distorted judgement only offers delight;
leaving no recognition of any warning
that lust may endure past midnight;
but loneliness comes Monday morning.


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz