The Dusty Men

The Dusty Men

 

Four men travel a dusty road

Tight of belt and light of load

Weary feet shuffling slow

Where do the four dusty men go?

 

Man number one is a man named Tom

He never speaks much of where he is from

But he holds the ace of spades with a tear in his eye

As the bright sun sets in the twilight sky

 

Man number two goes by the name of Bert

Wearing the rags of a silken shirt

Early each morning with a flask of gin

He sneaks off alone to quietly sing

 

Man number three is a spry old cricket

Said his friends out west called him Wicket

With gnarly old fingers as light as a breeze

He lifts heavy purses just as easy as you please

 

Man number four doesnt say much

The other dusty men all call him Dutch

They can’t imagine that his road has been fun

For poor old Dutch doesn’t have a tongue

 

Four dusty men travel a dusty road

Tight of belt and light of load

None can ever say if the dusty men know

Where the roads they travel even go

 

©Aarron Mondello

2/11/2018

 

The peace of you

 

On shaky legs I stand

A pressure in my chest

Noises in my thoughts

That scarce allow me rest

Thumping in my ears

The rush of blood so loud

Like storm winds lashing heartstrings

With boiling, blackened clouds

That bare down upon on me with

The weight of a world behind

Yet when I hold your eyes with mine

Peace is what I find

 

©Aarron Mondello

19/9/2018

Untitled

The first one on my own

And turned my tired, weary tread

In a direction I knew for home

You walked along next to me

And ran through the blinding dark

Your footfalls thudding on the ground

Counterpoint to my heart

You fell to floor beside me

And lent to me your wisdom

Passed on to me the strength I needed

To battle for my freedom

Where were you when I finally saw me

When the darkness finally receded

You were the whisper in my mind

The one I rarely heeded

Where were you? You were with me

For you and I are one and the same

I’d just lost sight of myself

Until that cleansing earthen rain
©Aarron Mondello

29/8/2018

Steps

 

 

Step lightly on the edge of the blade

On one side doom

On the other you’re saved

Which do you choose

Which is your way

To the dark of night

Or the light of day

 

Step careful on the mountain path

The road is long

And often hard

Straighten your legs

And strengthen your heart

Only your hands

Can touch the stars

 

Walk surely through the roads of life

Sure of foot

And head held high

When it seems for naught

That you strive

Seek the comfort

In a loved ones eyes

 

©Aarron Mondello

2/8/2018

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

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