Summer Girl

Sitting thinking Summer Girl
What thoughts twirl through your mind?
Before you lies the entire world
What wonders will you find?

I see you hiding Summer Child
For you shine bright as day
With your spreading laughter tinkling mild
What do your smiles say?

I see you smiling Summer woman
My heart like you is growing
I’ll watch you like a strong rose blossom
And see the Summer Girl still showing

©Aarron Mondello


The Written Soul


The soul is wracked by coughing fits
Coloured ink splashed across the pages
Each drop joining with dead links
That stretch back through the ages

Ink swirled with tentative fingertips
Words and sounds revealed
The blood of pages arteries
Spread across a white, lined field

Curious questions and deepest thoughts
Strokes of purest grace
Woven there before my eyes
An intricate written lace

And when the coughing does subside
Leaving dream-ink spread with care
You’ll see the story’s soul therein
Open and laid bare

©Aarron Mondello

Where I am

I took a break from writing, which means I did it less

Slipped a little into hiding, all my written words

I began to learn a new skill, to make my poems pop

Old and new I edit for an hour or two, and find I can not stop

I started up an Instagram, worked hard at sharing words

Gained a little following, by posting older verses

My audience is slowly going, but where my path is going

I have no real way of knowing, so I’ll just keep on rowing

Through this rainbow river of time, the one flows through all our minds

And keeps fresh creative juices flowing

©Aarron Mondello


So, basically, I have taken the pen out of my ear and the scrap paper out of my pocket and spent a few weeks working on making my own backgrounds out of my own photos.

Not only to learn how and to make my writing more eye catching on other forums but also to make them more appealing in general .

I have a long way to go before I am actually good at editing my photos but I feel like its making a good difference.

I want to thank everyone who has ever read my words, or ever will. But especially I’d like to thank those of you that read everything I post. Your support has been astonishing.

I will still be posting here and soon it will be as regular as it ever was. But I’m taking just a little more time to work on the photos too.

In the meantime, feel free to follow my facebook page (link can be found on my profile) or my instagram aarronmondello.

Keep writing.


Shared Dreams

How I hate to go to sleep
Laid back in my bed
For all I know my dreams could be
Memories of the dead

Perhaps, maybe, we close our eyes
And around us time will cease
For a short time we end our lives
Temporarily deceased

Perhaps our conscious mind
Reincarnates unaware
And our dreams within that time
Are the memories that we share

Maybe each day across the globe
Sleeps one who dreams our lives
How would we ever know
Where the true dreamer lies

©Aarron Mondello

Suffocated Dreams

By Aarron Mondello


The heart falls slowly into despair
Floundering in the tar
Lungs burning through the struggle for breath
Sinking inexorably down
A light flashes brilliant behind fading eyes
As darkness takes it hold
Ghosts of the past walk by in last moments
Of life here upon this earth
Strangled by expectations placed on us by us
Tarred in ever black lies
Until backs are turned forever from dreams
And we join the ranks of the robots

©Aarron Mondello

The Edge of Sleep

By Aarron Mondello


On the edge of sleep I lay
In the twilight of this ending day
The room is silent, still and calm
The coming rest my spirits balm
Sheltered from the world outside
For a time I will reside
Deep within my conscious mind
All cares I shed for a time
As a foggy cloud rolls over me
I wonder briefly what I’ll see
I relax and let my eyes drift closed
Feel my breath begin to slow
The distant call of dreams arise
Bare me aloft beyond the skies
As my waking thoughts slowly drift
Phantoms many begin to lift
My mind above my sleeping self
Leave for now that mortal shell
And gaze about with growing wonder
Surreal horizons stretch off yonder
Past a point where I can see
The line that blurs reality
And separates self from the dreams
I plunge myself into that scene

©Aarron Mondello


The Last Storyteller

By Aarron Mondello

written 15/1/2018 

There’s an old man silent somewhere
Sitting in his chair
On his tongue rests a tale
From when he was young and fair

Once he built worlds with his voice
To carry young and old
To faraway lands in unknown kingdoms
With the tales that he told

Over the years his voice grew hoarse
And lost its lilting song
No longer were his words quite enough
For an audience to hang upon

In his dotage the fancy took him
To tell his tales to the birds
The echo of elation rushed through him
As he tumbled out his words

Now even the birds have turned away
And fled frigid Winter air
He just mumbles his tales to himself
And audience that isn’t there

©Aarron Mondello


My Strange Dream

By Aarron Mondello


I’m in a crowd
I see a stage
To my left
I see a cage
A man repenting
Full of shame
The crowd is chanting
Words of rage

I scream out to them
“Let him be”
All eyes turn
Hard on me
I only wish them
Just to see
The innocent man
Should be free

They demand of me
A sacrifice
To sate their lust
Their greatest vice
I’d walk away
If I’m wise
But I can’t abide
This shameful sight

Now I’m being
Marched under guard
All eyes follow
Stone cold and hard
In my hands
Is placed a sleek guitar
And the caged man sings
With a hopeful heart

I’ve never learned
To play a note
I struggle hard
Begin to choke
As if by magic
Talent is stoked
And in my soul
Music woke

The crowd is quiet
As I play
Never a note
Going astray
My heart beats sluggish
My blood is clay
Can I win free
Or will I pay?

I feel a great
Strong surprise
As before me
My fingers fly
Then all strings snap
And wrap so tight
Around my throat
Squeezing life

The world goes dark
I lose my vision
I’m filled with
The supposition
That I should not have stepped
Beyond my position
But it’s too late
To learn that lesson

I feel myself
Falling down
In a void
I begin to drown
Then I awake
And look around
I’m where I started
In the jeering crowd

To my left
I see a cage
I hear the crowd
Full of rage
I don’t speak up
To my shame
I leave the man
To his fate

The deed is done
Blood on the floor
And as if opened
Some hidden door
I awake and dream
This night no more
But I remember him
Doomed, forlorn.


This is an actual dream I had on the night of the 11 of January 2018.

I hope you enjoy the quirkiness of my mind…

Image found here


Dream Demons

By Aarron Mondello


Dreams like little movies
Played out in your sleep
If you dream of demons
Pray your soul will keep

They hunger for emotion
A delicacy is your fear
It’s probably already too late
If a demon is creeping near

Tormented souls, evil sprites
Forgotten things they’ll throw at you
You’ll be lucky to be alive
When the dream demons are through

Do not think of loved ones
Or things close to your heart
These things they’ll use against you
A silent knife in the dark

Dreams like horror movies
Played out in your head
If you dream of demons
Then you’re already dead

©Aarron Mondello

Image found Here