The Newly Departed

By Aarron Mondello

1/12/2017

Alone here I sit
The newly departed
Leaving behind
Those broken hearted

As through a window
I stare looking in
No breath do I take
No blood of the living

No sun on my skin
For skin I have none
No feeling in hands
Bodiless, numb

No emotion in me
No anger seething
No joy or jealousy
At those still breathing

No tears to be shed
At least not by me
From all feeling in death
I am suddenly freed

Like a soft breeze
I now roam this land
A breeze that once was
A real bleeding man.

© Aarron Mondello2017


Featured image: animated wallpaper for smartphones

Thus end Man

By Aarron Mondello

30/11/2017

The dead shall rise
From the bowels of the earth
Putrid and rotting
Shambling forth
And the demons will come
Torturing man
Merciless and ravaging
Salting the land
The skies will grow dark
The earth will shake
And in the black depths
The new king will awake
Under his punishing reign
No green things will grow
No more what you reap
Shall you now sow
For now the devil
Rules from hell
This world gone dark
Where we dwell
Factions will fight
Against the hordes
Factions will fall
In ruthless onslaught
Evil will rule
Time without end
Thus has ended
The age of men.

©Aarron Mondello2017


 

My life, My Tapestry

By Aarron Mondello

27/11/2017

All the pieces were on the ground
Of a life that was lied to me
And whenever I tried to walk
I sliced and cut my feet
On the the shards scattered around
The shards of broken memories

I began to pick the pieces up
Tried to find how they all fit
Tried to match the edges up
But they refused to knit
There was something missing in this puzzle
That held all these little bits

It was like trying to write a story
When your pen has no ink
It was like trying to keep it all together
When you’re so close to the brink
It forced me to stop and look
To stop and really think

I saw nothing around at first
When I stopped to stare
Nothing there was in my life
That made me want to care
But bit by bit I began to see
What was really there

I noticed first the sun warmed me
So I can’t have been dead
Then the sounds of their voices
Rose a joyous rapture in my head
And soon the happy memories returned
From all the years that had fled

It was hard and long the path I walked
To find the beauty again
To hear the simple joy there is
In the sound of falling rain
And to defy and defeat the deep belief
That I was destined for only pain

But now I stand before you
Cradling my broken bits
I’ve learned to love the damage done
And the way it all seems to fit
Into this beautiful tapestry of my life
That only I can weave and knit.

©Aarron Mondello 2017


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/knit/”>Knit</a&gt;

I’m Trying

By Aarron Mondello

27/11/2017

I’m trying to see a different view
Here’s a little bit of what I’m trying to do
I’m trying get my work out there
I’m trying to act like I’m not scared
I’m to show rejection is fine
I’m trying to share these worlds of mine
I’m trying to show a side of me
One that no one before has seen
I’m trying to let him out the cage
Where he’s lived all along, the solitary sage
I’m trying believe in the road I travel
I’m trying to prepare in case it unravels
I’m trying to see the future too
While I’m trying to plan what next I’ll do
I’m trying to raise my dreams up high
I’m trying not to lose my head in the sky
I’m trying to believe in myself most of all
I’m trying NOT to believe that I’ll inevitably fall.

©Aarron Mondello

Sleeping, Creeping, Secrets Keeping

By Aarron Mondello

26/11/2017

The monsters that are creeping
In your dreams while you are sleeping
Slow you, you are weakening
And their strangle hold is deepening

They hunt you through the night
Through your internal plight
You’re too scared to turn and fight
So you keep running for your life

But all the while you’re sleeping
All the while you’re weeping
As these monsters are revealing
All the secrets you’ve been keeping

Somewhere alarm bells ringing
Someone somewhere is singing
Unknown you are flinging
Yourself into waking

Another night has passed you by
Another night of hidden lies
And monsters who truly spy
What lies within your fractured mind.

©Aarron Mondello


Featured image found in this article

https://www.7cups.com/forum/DepressionSupportCommunity_52/DepressionResources_214/NightmaresandHowToManageThem_66919/

 

The White

By Aarron Mondello

26/11/2017

The fog rolls over
And covers the town
Filtering light
And changing sounds

I leave my home
And walk in the White
In peaceful solitude
Feeling alone this night

The air feels heavy
Almost like I can touch it
Moisture forms on my clothes
In sparkling droplets

The eeriness flares up
My imagination
Voices and sounds
In strange amplifications

All my senses perverted
My vision subverted
My mind instantly rejects
Anything that’s expected

Footsteps behind me?
Or the echo of my own?
Someone whispering secrets?
Or am I alone?

The White is alive
Altering sound
Bringing shadows brooding
Looming all around

My heart is beating
Speeding, palpitating
The thrill of not knowing
Is intoxicating

Where moments before
The White was relaxing
Now fear and thoughts
Are combining, reacting

A turn, an unknown
Just another in The White
Of a multitude that
Bolster your fright

There, a comfort!
A gnarly old tree
Around whose trunk
Dance a child’s memories

Then a wave
Upon a shore
Washes the White’s fear
Away once more

Shoulders rolling
Cool breeze blowing
The White is calming
My heart is slowing

The fog thins
Slowly dissipating
And I walk home
In a world just waking

©Aarron Mondello


Featured image found

Just a simple story

By Aarron Mondello

25/11/2017

I feel like I need
A small story to tell
I don’t want my head cluttered
I don’t want to dwell
On a million little details
Or a thousand made up quotes
Just a simple little fairy tale
One that kind of floats
Easily off the tongue
Like a feather in the mind
Just a little story to
Tell the children at bedtimes

Perhaps an adventure
About a curious kitten
Or lonely little child
And the bird with which they’re smitten

Maybe there’s a cheeky wolf cub
Learning how to hunt
Or a boy who flies on a plane
With the pilot up the front

Possibly a little girl
Finds a unicorn
With a shimmering coat of fur
And a magic golden horn

Or what about a sail boat
That held a beating heart
Deep inside its cargo hold
With which it would not part

So many little fairy tales
Floating like a song
The rhythm of imagination
Is the ballad they sail upon.

©


Featured image found in this article

http://mamiverse.com/fairy-tale-benefits-38059/

The Corridor pt2

By Aarron Mondello

22/11/2017

 

Standing again at the end of a corridor similar to the first only this time lit by flickering yellow fluorescent tubes that cast an eerie glow along the walls. They shone just bright enough to dispel any shadow between them. As before, behind him was only a blank wall with flaking paint and no clue as to how he came to be in this place.

He retained full memory of his last trip down a dank corridor lit by burning torches in sconces above dilapidated old doors that opened onto a maddening black nothing. He still didn’t understand what significance that hallway held but he had a feeling the picture would be somewhat filled in as he travelled this one. He knew there would be other doors under those faulty old lights. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to open any of them though.

He took a deep breath and slowly started walking forward. After all, what else was there to do here? His mind kept going back to the fist Corridor. The madness he had started to feel as he traversed it’s impossible length. The darkness and sounds experienced behind each door tickled familiarly at the edges of his brain but he couldn’t quite manage to grasp why. Everytime he thought he almost had it it slipped away, slid between his fingers like an eel coated in oil. Apprehensive and nervous he walked to the first flickering yellow tube above the first door.

The door he found was not rotten and dilapidated as he was expecting. Quite the opposite it looked brand new and fit for a mansion as opposed to this dark Hall. Pristine white it seemed to gather the light to itself and reflect it cleanly from every gleaming surface. The paint like pure snow, the shining brass hinges and golden oval doorknob all seemed lit from within.

He relaxed a little at the sight of it. A door this lovely to behold couldn’t be hiding darkness and madness…could it?

As he reached a tentative hand towards the sparkling doorknob he noticed a light engraving on the white wood, so soft it was barely there.                  “Terry?” he asked softly of the tiger etched in the pristine wood. No answer came and he wondered then who Terry was and why the name and image seemed so familiar in his heart.                    Ultimately it didn’t matter, he turned the handle and stepped through the door.

He sat on a pale blue, circular rug in the middle of a room with walls painted to resemble a cloudless sky. Looking up he saw a bright yellow sun-shaped shade hanging motionless from a light in the ceiling. On one wall there was a four tier bookcase with filled with children’s stories. Strangely though, he could not read the titles, he could see where the words should be but they were just nonsensical shapes.                                                                                  Against another wall were two toy boxes. One was a plain soft green shaped like a chest, the other shaped like a dinosaur with its back open. Between them a mountain of teddy bears and plush toys were stacked staring at him with black glassy dead eyes.     There was a bed, low to the ground and made to look like a red race car. And on the last wall the white tiger etched door stood open through which he could see the corridor.

From somewhere else in this place, a place apart from this room he could hear voices though he could not understand a word they said. Time to move on he decided. On to the next door in the hopes that it would not be exactly the same. He tried to sand and found he had absolutely no control of his balance. Every time he tried to stand he’d fall heavily to the blue mat.

He began to yell in frustration. Smacking the rug with an open hand.

“Oosha adda iddy ad?” a woman’s voice called from beyond the door. His heart swelled with love when he heard voice. He tried to call out and tell the woman he couldn’t stand but all he could do was gurgle and make noises. He tried again and when he still could not talk he began to cry. Great heaving sobs shook his shoulders and his high pitched scream bounced off the walls, reverberating in his ears and hurting his head which made him want to cry more.

The sight of her stopped him, confused and unable to grasp just how she was walking towards him through a wall in the corridor. He could see her coming closer. As though she walked along a passage but she was in the wall! It hurt his head to look at. His mind refusing to make sense of it. It was as though the corridor he had left was layered over another place and the people that existed here were unaware of his world. They couldn’t touch his and he couldn’t see theirs.

Thankfully, finally, she stepped through the door into the room and the sickening image of her walking towards him from far away in a solid wall was gone. She stood before him tall and beautiful looking down on him with startling green eyes. She was beautiful, but he was afraid in a corner of his mind. A corner that still stood in the corridor.

“Up to Aunty?” she asked him and he was relieved to find he actually understood this time. He reached up to her and she bent to pick him up, holding him on her hip.

“Oh ee Dad?” one word he knew but he made no effort to reply. He just stared at her and she turned to walk out of the room. As she passed the threshold he felt a jolt, like an electric shock encompassing his entire body and he found himself back in the corridor looking at a pristine white door with police tape stuck in zig zags down it’s face.

He passed two more doors and they held very similar encounters. Both times the same woman who would come to get him in the midst of a tantrum and somewhere she’d mention “Dad” before walking out of the door and thumping him back into his own body.

The third door took a darker turn as he sat on the blue rug crying. From somewhere in a world he could not see he heard screaming. A man’s voice and a woman’s voice yelling gibberish at one another for what felt like hours. Then it all went silent and he began to cry, scared.

There came a dull thump followed by a yell and crashing, the sound of smashing glass. A man said something in a harsh voice and the thump came again. And again. And again. Over and over. It began to sound wet, like someone punching a self-saucing pudding. Finally the world went silent again.

He was very afraid now and wanted to get out of here. A strong feeling of deja vu swept over him and he almost saw…what? Red? He started to pull himself towards the door. God! Why was it so hard to move here? Inspiration struck him and he pulled his legs up under his belly and began to wobbly crawl towards the door. Slowly but surely he passed the threshold and pounded back into his own body.

His vision cleared. Looking into the room with the blue rug. The toy boxes, the bed, the teddies. “I’m a baby in there” he whispered to himself. Shocked he had not realised it sooner. When the woman spoke he didn’t understand, save for a few words. She picked him up and carried him on her hip…that world beyond the door blurred the lines in his mind and now he realised that, what was true in there was the only truth. He didn’t realise earlier because in there, it was normal, it was reality.

Then it finally registered to him that the door was still open. All the others had closed as soon as he left them. Why was this different?

He looked left and came face to face with himself. Startled he jumped back with a cry. Arms wrapped around his chest and held him. He struggled, kicking and squirming but the arms about him seemed made of steel.

“Quit it,” the person behind him spoke in his voice and he sagged like limp spaghetti. The arms about him held him in place.

The Him in front of him spoke now. It made his head spin to see himself standing there talking in his voice.                                                                                     “You have to go back in there. It’s not over.”                “What is this place?” he asked Himself. As a response the Him just reached forward and tapped his forehead. And before he knew what was happening he was launched through the air and back into the room with the blue rug.

Footsteps came echoing down a hall he could not see and the figure of the woman walking towards him though wall appeared again. It was still hard to look at, someone walking towards him from within a flat surface.

She stepped across the threshold and leapt into perfect clarity, he saw she was crying. This agitated him and he began to whimper like a sad puppy.

“Oh no, don’t cry,” she crooned at him while hastily wiping her eyes.                                                                  “Come. Come,” she bent and picked him up “Eh O to eh Park,” he felt excitement bubbling at the only word in that sentence he knew. He loved going outside and had learned to associate “park” with sunshine and outdoors.  She started heading towards the door with him on her hip. In a small corner of his mind, the small part that remained himself he tried to prepare for the jolt back into his own body.

She stepped through the door into a short hallway leading down to a set of stairs. The floors shone dark and polished. Halfway down there was a stand that had photos and fake looking flowers on it. A framed painting of a beach side shack hung on the opposite wall.                                                                       He had just enough time to be surprised before this reality swept over and became all he knew again.

Down the stairs at the end of the hall they went. An open kitchen on the left was pristine white and he cooed softly knowing that’s where ‘num nums’ were.

He vaguely noticed the splashes of red along the white bench top and up one of the white walls as something not normally there. Then it was swept from his mind as they neared the front door. He started bouncing excitedly on her hip at the thought of outside. As she opened the door he turned around and saw his dad asleep on the kitchen floor. He looked different…red. But outside beckoned and he was just a baby. His father’s smashed face never dawned on his limited knowledge or attention span.

The front door opened and a sudden white, warming light flooded over him and wrapped about him. Both him-as-baby and him-as-man felt physical sensation, a tingling that ran over the whole body as the light blocked out all vision. Slowly it faded, grew dimmer and he found himself back in the corridor looking through the open doorway at a world whizzing past. Houses passing in a blink, trees swooshing by. He experienced a brief vertigo when his mind reverted back to Him-as-baby and in his thoughts ‘PARK’ rang loud and clear, a little spark in a mind fogging over with sleep. Then the door closed softly and police warning tape began to unravel from thing air and zig zag down the door frame.

He stood staring at the faintly etched tiger on the door. Faint memories of a teddy that he carried everywhere for the first few years of his life swimming across the front of his thoughts until a soft scuffing noise caught his attention. He turned to his left and saw the two others, the Hims. One smiled maniacally, eyes wide and crazy and the other wore a dour expression.

Dour Him spoke “That’s where it started. Even if you don’t remember.”                                                                Crazy Him laughed “Did you see  his face? Hehehe haha haha heheheh.” They advanced on him, one laughing and one silent and he had no where to run, no where to go for the walls enclosed him in a box with these two apparitions. They covered him, smothered him. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breath. He was suffocating and his vision was growing dark. ‘I’m going to die’ he thought sadly as the last of the light faded and he fell into oblivion.


Featured image found here

https://www.google.com.au/amp/s/www.pinterest.com/amp/pin/352195633330387338/

Confessions of a dead man

By Aarron Mondello

21/11/2017

Hush now spirit
Don’t you weep
Tell me your secrets
I will keep
Them oh so close
To my silent heart
Nary a word will ever part
From between
My lips shut tight
I will take them
Unto eternal night

Hear me father
Hear my words
I live here now
Betwixt two worlds
When breath filled me
I was a vain man
From all obligation
Ever I ran
Centred solely
On myself
Now I am in
This grey hell
Ever the colours
I ignored
And lived by the creed
The pen’s mightier than the sword
With script on a page
I pulled the high down low
And relished without guilt
In the strong cash flow
I lived like a king
In the material world
From others suffering
I built my Hold
Carved in blood
I provoked the ire
Of the innocent
With their fires
At the end
I was a drunken sot
When they came upon me
And cast me down to rot
My self indulged life
Thus did end
I met my fate
Without a friend

Hear me spirit
Know I speak true
Only the Father
Can judge you
Though I see
Why you tarry here
For we both know
Your damnation is near
Still you run
In death as in life
Cast out from the living
To this grey life
Escape it forever?
You can try
But your always under
His watchful eye
And now I bid you
Spirit farewell
Soon you’ll burn
In the fires of hell.

©


Featured image is the confessional room at Macau Cathedral.

Chemical Crutches

By Aarron Mondello

21/11/2017

Poison sludge under the skin
These chemical crutches
Lives are ruined from within
Reliance clutches
Scratching digging deepening
It’s hold on the broken
And the weeping
Never sleeping
Eating away their courage
They aren’t there
They no longer sing
These chemical crutches
Reign supreme
Loved ones watch and stare
In a darkened dream
As these chemical crutches
Slowly win
And those we love are forever changed
Those we love are forever maimed
Digging deeper always scratching
Are the chemical crutches of our addiction.

©


I think it’s a safe bet that we all know someone battling addiction in some way. Whether it’s cigarettes (like me) or a harder and deadlier substance (like someone I used to be close to) addiction is real and can destroy lives.

Help those that want it. Addiction can be a cage.

 

Featured image found in this article

https://www.centeronaddiction.org/addiction

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/sludge/”>Sludge</a&gt;