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

Speeding years

He held her gently and began to cry

This twinkling apple in his eye

She breathed a softly whispered sigh

And his years began speeding by

Before he blinked she was walking

Next he knew she was always talking

Such joy she found in asking why

As his years went speeding by

On her first day of school he was full of pride

Tears of joy he shamelessly cried

It seemed the next day she stood shoulder high

As the years still went speeding by

She graduated and his heart swelled

He asked her to sit for a spell

So they sat and they talked for a little while

And his years continued speeding by

She was married with children and loving life

He remembered her glowing when she became a wife

Now his grandchildren filled his eyes

And her years were suddenly speeding by

©Aarron Mondello

10/9/2018

Words

Do you have some sad words

That I can put down on this page

Or perhaps some fiery angry words

That make you scream and rage

Where are your profound words

To make me stop and think

To challenge all my beliefs

And place them on the brink

What about your jealous words

Tinged with hues of green

Or melancholy bittersweet

Words of things you’ve seen

Can you find some words for me

Of joyful laughing times

Heady happy memories

That I can fashion into rhymes

Sit a while and tell me words

Of all things in your head

Words that I can twist and turn

Into tales to be read

©Aarron Mondello

8/8/2018

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

Sounds

Sitting in near silence

A whisper in the trees

The gentle hum of passing cars

The softer buzz of working bees

A distant trilling birdsong

The padding of a dogs paws

The whir of a whipper snipper

As someone mows their lawns

Distant shouts of children playing

At the school just down the street

The dog yawns as she comes up

To snuff and sniff my feet

The tin shed roof is ticking

As it heats up in the sun

The distant wail of sirens

Herald heroes at the run

The buzzing of a fat fly

Swooping ‘round my head

The soft scritch scratch of branches

Rubbing on the shed

The neighbors gate starts squealing

His red ute rumbles home

Reverse signal beeping

A high pitched warning tone

The far off sound of a helicopter

Rotors spinning fast

As a rattling trailer and rumbling truck

Go thundering speeding past

That’s all the sounds I hear

Sitting in a seat

Placed in the sun in my backyard

A sleeping cat beneath my feet

22/5/2018

Flee Yourself

Running down a pitch dark track
Isolated, don’t look back
Running on to freedom gained
Running ever from the pain

Never turn to face your foes
Never give in to your woes
Never tackle it head on
Never stop, the road be long

Running on till nearly spent
Only then do you repent
And begin to call for your salvation
While creeps behind you, your damnation

Thoughts come on you in a flood
Memories mingled in your blood
Crooked heart begat your evil
Crooked heart held by the devil

And as the nighttime shadows pass
Finally caught up, here at last
The screaming of your fate arrives
Dragged below by gleaming eyes

Bad words

Bad words infesting
The blood digesting
The taint of intended sting

The heart repenting
While the ego’s resenting
And a space grows within

A bond despoiled
By words that boiled
Tinged with societal vanity

A union maimed
Torn in twain
In just a moment of insanity

Voices on the Wind

What if the wind
Was the collective voice
Of every loved one who
Ever passed?

Endless voices of sorrow
Trying their simple best
To answer every question
Ever asked.

I’d listen contentedly
To all of things they’ve seen
And done since they were here
with me last.

My world is growing

First of all I would like to extend my utmost gratitude to the people who have followed me during the last couple of months. There are a few of you who I see have read almost every one of my poems and that is truly a profound experience for me personally. You have my undying gratitude.

Now, I have been writing poems and short stories for over twenty years and only about three months ago finally found the courage to start sharing them. It has been, and still is, a scary ride. A lot of my words hold deep meaning to me and to open them to an actual audience is frightening, yet exhilarating. I find I am almost addicted to it now and despise the days when life prevents me from writing or sharing with you all. And at this time of year those days seem plenty. At least to me.

I would ask a favour of any who do read my words though. A small one. I would like critique. Constructive criticism, if you may. As much as I truly appreciate the likes and follows, I have spent most of my life hiding from the world at large and would greatly love to know what you think of my words.

And now to the subject of my title. My World Is Growing. In April 2017 I was consumed by a tale that needed to be told, one I have not yet shared here. It was a feverish need to get this story out over the course of four days. Surreal to remember now how every moment I had a pen in my hand writing it. And the few times I could not actually put words down my mind was racing and over flowing with the words that came next.

For the most part, over those four days, I had no idea what I was writing and often stopped to exclaim surprised to my lovely lady “Holy crap! He found a boat half buried in the ice!” Or “He is the blood of Vor’Dalee!” She had little idea what I was talking about. Until it was finished I would not share much of what I had written to even her.

With the courage I have gained since starting this blog and my facebook page I have begun to build this world further. And it is growing. Calling to be coloured and asking that soon I share it with others.

I have you all to thank, anyone who has ever read anything I have written, for the courage to build this growing world.

I look forward to the day I begin to share the world of Galdenya with you and hope with all my heart you enjoy seeing it as much I have enjoyed carving it from the block of my mind.

Thank you all. May you have a safe New Years and a prosperous 2018.

Thank you.

Aarron Mondello

31/12/2017

Image is my pages waiting for me to fill them and the sword with which I carve my worlds.