Erotic Vampire Tale

Sanguine Fervour   Love ValkyrieKerry

You’re welcome in! I’ve seen you….
In my dreams, as in life,
echoing the velvet onyx abyss of your soulless heart
and sweetly enshrouded with the eternal stench of history’s charm.

The doors, portcullis to my chamber, lay stark wide permitting pure precipitation to flood the ivory gateway in readiness for your empowering presence.

I recline as the embers cool….
The oak clock clangs breaking the deftly silence of my creamy satin nest.
The sound ceases filling my body with fear and anticipation.

Momentary ambivalence,
A desperate urge to fight the mesmeric stupor, to shut you out!
But my desire enforces paralysis and there with aching trepidation I lay.

Nubile and motionless the emerald flecks of my eyes meet your black stare,
Your gaze pierces me as you materialise from nothingness;
Tall, foreboding, pale with a mane of Earthly hair.

As you approach your cognitive grip tightens, our psyches coalesce!
I see your depravities; death displaces desire and torture is thrust upon idolaters.
Still, I want you! That is your power.

I surrender my life to you even as your deathly, ice lips caress mine.
Unable to overcome the sense of depravity triggered by that loathsome longing,
I hesitate, in an acknowledgement of reticence whilst gazing into your eyes.

Your stunning, seductive eyes stare into mine.
In deep swoon I am willed to relax, to fall into a waking reverie filled with a sense of peace, beset by your refuge.

Then, in a climactic instant your canines penetrate my chastity draining my life’s fluid and my world sinks into an obscure dusk…… Sweet sleep excludes the brilliant sun.

My only stirrings emanate from our minds merging.
Locked behind the bars of your malevolence I see victims cruelly slain,
solely for knowing you and you watch me gazing in.

An eternal parasite cursed; darkness, solitude and damnation.
An emptiness crying out for pity, the demon within judged for its deeds.
Fueling its anger and passions, driving a desire that may never be sated.

My soul builds a resistance to the disease and I implore you for a reprieve with no compassion my sanctuary is denied and once again you appear.
With a Tiger’s strength, I draw myself from that lust filled place of rest.

Stumbling, dazed and weak my feet tread stone villa floors.
Even in my escape I am drawn to you.
Your whispers tremor through me as I desert on my steel stead.

Your imploring tones willing my return, fighting with memories of the beloved you stole.
Now, just us alone in a crowded universe.
Hastily I travel through the mountain pass, mere shapes silhouetted in the dark.

My mind in turmoil and my body hungering for yours,
the cool night breeze pierces my skin, I lose control!

In a flash of metal and light my mortal flesh is broken like porcelain,
my skin ripped, my spirit weary bidding me to sleep through the trauma.
I feel you holding me like the lover you can never be, moving me, time passes…

You tend me with a callous cherishing,
Healing your prey to make it fit once again for the hunt!

And with gruesome degradation you feed me from your own veins,
and with grotesque wantonness I submit to your offering.

Overawed by the eroticism, aphrodisiac and sensuality,
your silent, false promise that you will shield me forever.
In that moment of bliss I give myself to you!

You make the pain stop! You satisfy your own thirst!

Frozen air sneaks through the derelict boards.
I wake in an abode that has haunted my dreams, slumped coldly on chilled steps.
The crimson warmth of days passed replaced by damp rot and somber shade.

Solitude perforates my empyrean blood. Loss of my kin has broken my fire,
A life once so learned, travelled and communal destroyed.

You are all I have, my vengeance quelled by an unnatural proclivity,
to be yours eternally, to be loved and subjugated equally,
but your heart does not beat!

I am here at your will, forced to choose as you wish,
punished with desolation and debility,
infected by your fluids, which dominate my clay.

Timorously I call your name and there, aloof at the window crevice,
you materialise as if there you had always been,
I beg for release from your enchantment, to forget this agonising cry from the depths of my being.
Your numb stare repudiates my appeal.

My choices are narrowed; annihilation or eternal perdition.
Everlasting surrender to your sovereignty,
lacerated through your necessary infidelity.

An assassin afflicted with immortality’s curse,
and yet with these apprehensions you still captivate me.
Unable to bear being abandoned in this weakened state I come to you.

I rise as you wish,
I stroke your dreadful shell succumbing to your carnality,
your claws clasp my soft curls and the kiss you offer blazes.

Gnarled nails trail my throat, easing the silken slip strings from my shoulders,
ivory points encircle my lips, cheeks, hair and throat.
The puncture stings, libidinous relief ebbing with each gulp.

My senses heighten, I energise and in a moment of clarity I draw from you,
night escapes leaving the scarlet sun dawning slowly.
Before the last trickle of humanity evades me, I break away….Away from eons of emotional emptiness,
I throw myself at the mercy of the burning sun.
Exquisite scorching relieves me of mortality and immortality,
you howl, you love, we should have been one.
With regret for what could have been I return to dust………



Zen Garden

Moonlight becomes lodged in cascading waterfall,
soft, life giving water surrounded by hard lifeless rock;
opposites: Male and female, Yin and Yang, lovers.
Gentle trickling and rushing forces water passed willow.
Gracious willow, maternal parasol for the pond below.

Water flows east from home of the crimson dragon,
towards the West, home of the ferocious, Bengal tiger,
enveloping shiny pond, connected, like all beings;
by a small, eloquent, wooden bridge for tiny feet,
placed perfectly by Buddha’s natural explanations.

Three islands rise from glowing pond, home to immortals;
light, white sand built and compacted makes cloudy island.
Another eruption; Jagged and fearsome, tall rock points to Heaven,
the final mass of gravel surges upwards as clouds in sky.
Balls of wave imitating Azaleas encompass ethereal pond.

Pine trees, ancient in shape, form perfect shadows across stream.
Fine sands caress river banks with spiritual serenity.
Trios of moss covered rock carelessly litter waters’ edges;
large rock of heaven, small rock of Earth and medium rock humanity.
Innocent, pure stream winds like a serpent adventuring on land.

Wooden pagoda and stone lantern meet beyond bridge and pond,
each carefully formed of five parts;
Base touching the Earth, Chi, Support like life’s loved water,
Sui, Encasing, stifling fire, Ka, the summit, sky pointing duo.
Air for breath, Fu and spirit of life, Ku.
Camellia, maple and cherry trees, shaped perfectly around Pagoda.

Garden is protected by cypress, cedar and pine,
trimmed to shape, ancient trees overseeing many lives,
watching centuries of ancestors.
Washing hands in stone basins, using wooden ladles to pour pure water.
Tranquil, timeless trees watching humanity watch watery nature.
Mindful, Moonlight becomes lodged in cascading waterfall.

Hope you enjoyed the read Halloween Hounds


Puerto Rica: Poem and Photographs

Rico Rainforests

Serrated, waxy
Glowing lush, ripe, deep olive
Veridian glare

Foaming, gushing falls
Spraying rock faces, flowing
Deep, turquoise lagoon

Clumps of huddling trees
Rolling woods, giant’s mountain
Dangling branches

Jade, cerise parrots
Bubble-mouthed frogs, mauve fungi
Dense, enshrouding fog

Fanning foliage
Webs of intertwined branches
Lush serpent filled

Curved, smooth, beige, slim bark
Boulders clambering to pools
Rainbows of plant life

Photography and Poem by Valkyriekerry Kelly

Models: Ashley, Melissa, Emily and Charlotte Land and Bayley Kelly

Ghosts of Maya

Good Blood Moon Halloween Fans! A poem about Mexican heritage for you.

Ghosts of Maya

She treads lightly on ancient stones,
A child playing on history’s platform.
Beneath the foundations lie ancient bones,
trees blowing in the monsoon storm.

She treads lightly on ancient stones,
as the sacrificed ghosts pass her by,
humming to the gods in deftly tones.
On the wind, she hears their voices sigh.

She treads lightly on ancient stones,
hopping down the pyramid’s ridges.
Remains of the temple emitting groans.
Heaving hot air swells with evening midges.

She treads lightly on ancient stones,
climbs on temple walls,
climbs on the stepped pyramids,
climbs on history’s sacrifice….

Climbs on her father’s back, Leaving the ghosts behind.

Models: Charlotte Land and Bayley Kelly

Catch-22: The World’s Greatest Novel

I will write a longer review later, this book deserves it!

I am an absolute horror buff, but my favourite book of all time is Joseph Heller’s Catch-22. I actually read this by chance. It was on my college reading syllabus and I thought I would get the audiobook! Within ten minutes I was down the book stores searching. It is an amazing satire from start to finish. It has a character driven plot, and the characters reflect society prejudices in a wonderful way.
The main character is Yossarian, a bombardier trapped in the war effort. Every time he reaches the number of missions entitling him to retire from the war his CO ups the mission count. Yossarian asks the Doctor, who forges paperwork instead of actually flying, if he can get an honourable discharge for madness. The Doc says come to me and tell me your mad, Yossarian asks if that will get him out to which the Doc explains that people who know they are mad are not mad, so cannot leave the war. There in lies the catch, so Yossarian has to prove he is mad without saying it. At the same time he is actually slowly suffering a post-traumatic breakdown due to a horrific incident.
Each chapter focuses on one caricature and Yossarian navigating around that persona in a bid to get leave. The characters include; a Major none of the grunts like because he is not a grunt and none of the officers like because he is not an officer, an Anabaptist priest who no one likes because he is not mainstream, a Native American who was forced into Canada and forbidden to return because he was not a citizen, an inane, grinning patriotic Texan, a stunt man and a salesman who trades secrets and goods on both sides.
The pace of the book is unreal, the absolute lunacy of the policies hilarious and the characters over the top.
Then, the book changes mood. The stuntman cuts a colleague in half and kills himself, two men escape or drown (depending on how you interpret the book) and the Doc starves to death because the plane he was (not) on crashes and the paperwork shows he is dead, even though he is clearly alive. Then comes the real shocker! I absolutely cannot give this away because it is a huge twist that changes everything for Yossarian.
The end is dark, downbeat and totally horrifying. What is more horrifying is the force’s reaction to the shock. Total desensitization and obsession with the rules. Morals have all flown away, along with Yossarian’s tormented mind.
I confess I have read this book more times than I care to remember, and it gets better every time I read it! Please don’t forget the poor dead man in Yossarian’s tent, who never had time to register. Since he is not on the books, he cannot exist and therefore it is no one’s responsibility to move him. If you only ever read one book in your life make it this one!

Now, Jump Yossarian, Jump!