The Hunter

A bubbling cookpot over a fire

Diced meat and roots were stewing

Behind his red-rimmed tired eyes

Dark thoughts and storms were brewing

Back and forth the memories ran

In bleak shadows on his face

Lazy circles of a wooden spoon

Were in the cookpot traced

Screaming echoed in his mind

Those lost being lost again

Mechanically he raised his bowl

And spooned the thick stew in

All he loved was lost now

All his life was bled

Moonlight glinted on cold steel

As he tallied up his lead

Blood for blood he hunted

Through the land he crept

Those he sought would know him

And rue the tears he’d wept

The sun was not yet rising

When he pulled his small camp down

In the predawn chill and grey

He was a wraith without a sound

Coppyright Aarron Mondello

27/7/2018

Pockmarked Sky

Sitting here with my pen

Gazing in your eyes

Silhouetted in the holes

Of a deep blue pockmarked sky

Sitting here on a ledge

Learning how to fly

To the little windows in my head

That hold the pockmarked sky

Sitting here in the dark

So that’s what it’s like die

Wondering if I’ll ever reach

My fabled pockmarked sky

Sitting here on a cloud

Fondling my small knife

Sitting here by myself

Within a pockmarked sky

©Aarron Mondello
17/7/2018

Strugglers

They’ve been broken

They’ve been bent

They’ve been left alone

They have spoken

To the memories

That lurk inside their bones

They’ve disdained

And reviled

Pushed at those who tried

They’ve felt shame

By their actions

And by themselves they’ve cried

They’ve reached out

Mended bridges

Found their feet again

They’ve screamed aloud

In frustration

Felt more than half insane

Fought their way

Back uphill

Apologies they’ve made

Tall and proud

They’ve accepted

The price that must be paid

They have struggled

With the search

And finally found their grin

Though it pained them

And exhausted

They’ve accepted all their sin

They’ve dragged themselves

From the mud

Scraped off all the oil

Cleansed the landscape

Of their souls

That silhouettes despoiled

They’ve stood bravely

With a straight back

And faced down every foe

Held the hands

Of an angel

As they fended off their woes

And while they struggle

Some days still

Bogged down in a mire

They found the spark

And the strength

To feed their growing fires

©Aarron Mondello

14/7/2018

Promises

I’ll take a promise from you

And put it in my pocket

Just to keep it safe until

I buy a little golden locket

I put it safe inside

To see that it’s not broken

Hang from a chain around my neck

The promise that was spoken

I wear it all the time

Keep it safe against my heart

And take comfort from your promise

When it gets a little dark

When ever I’m not with you

Not standing by your side

I whisper sweet things to the locket

And the promise held inside

Copyright Aarron Mondello

10/7/2018

Ragged

Ragged

 

Give into my safe keeping

The coldness in your heart

With the warmth of all dreams sleeping

I will kindle the spark

That sits weak and sodden

Drenched in cradled woes

Baring marks of the downtrodden

Ragged in beggars clothes

 

Place into my open palms

The tears shed from your eyes

Let my whispered oaths balm

And guide you through the lies

Dripped from twisted tongues

To blanket the powdered snows

Setting fearful feet to run

Ragged in beggars clothes

 

In my pocket I’ll place you

Cracked and splintered sight

Borrow your eyes to borrow your view

Of a dusty night

Where broken dreams give comfort

To broken dreamers on death row

And lay down a starlit blanket

Over ragged beggars clothes

 

©Aarron Mondello

6/7/2018

 

My brother wrote music and made this poem a whole new experience in song.

Of you’d like to hear it please head to my facebook page

https://www.facebook.com/myworldsinwords/

I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. The music is beautiful

Forgotten King

 

 

Follow the wind

Over the land

Over canyons deep

Across the fields

Of wildflowers

And into the forest creep

Through the shadows

Of gnarled old oak

Passed the moonlit clearing

Step wide and far

Of the witch’s hut

Her eyes you should be fearing

Stay on the banks

Of the rushing river

It will lead you from the trees

When you emerge

At the river’s mouth

Turn your bearing east

Up and over

Rolling hills

Past a sapphire lake

Until you find

A hard dirt road

Winding like a snake

Take the left

Follow the path

Above a city ruined

Crumbling walls

Broken domes

How many are there entombed?

The path you’re on

Will wind and rise

To a high and jutting cliff

Where in a hall

Awaits a king

Forgotten and bereft

For long ago

Far out to sea

His queen was drowned and gone

Heart turned cold

Tears of ice

He set his heart to mourn

He cried his love

From empty eyes

And sat his throne in dark despair

The years ran

Like the tides that took her

His kingdom fell to disrepair

There he still is

Upon his throne

The Forgotten Kings grim fate

To sit alone

In countless tears

And for his Queen await

 

©Aarron Mondello

1/7/2018

Fractured

Fractured

 

Sharpened claws digging in

Serrated edges tearing skin

Screaming loud for attention

Haunted voices of addiction

 

Darkness in the mind abides

Darkness wherein serpents slide

Screaming out for sustenance

Words tinged with childish truculence  

 

Tremors quaking, heaving the world

Rocking the ground, all sense hurled

To lay broken against a shattered heart

Obsidian psyche torn apart

 

Pestered and badgered by a thousand voices

Stumbling blindly through a thousand choices

In confusion drowning fast

Swearing fealty to a splintered past

 

Jealousy in the constant scorned

Forgotten smiles lay never mourned

Contradictions in hidden dreams

Fractures bridged with rotted seams

 

©Aarron Mondello

22/6/2018