Aramis' Workshop

I Didn't Think so but I'm Still Convincible

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Coin-Operated Boy - The Dresden Dolls

NaNoWriMo is pretty much over, but writing continues.
Finished 20 chapters of Emarosa, still have ten more to go.
Also editing and a couple other additions I’d like to add if it comes together.

Would like to get some new stuff posted by New Years, but no promises.

“Wishing on Welkin”

When at first I saw the sky,
I wondered like no other what it came from.
How the azure skyplane escaped my thoughts and took flight.
Where all its bedfellows got off to when it glides so deceptively empty.
Sometimes I still wonder.

I do not believe in yesterday or tomorrow,
For never can either be found.
Reverie dances with whim in any direction it pleases.
There’s no stopping that which no longer exists.
Or hasn’t existed, yet.

Anything having lived can tell you of folly,
Of regrets immutable for which no cost would be too great.
Whether it’s one too many cookies or a love long past–
I’ve never see a dollar undo the worst of idiocy.
Few things have ever truly changed my world.
Neither of them were money.

When at last I saw the sky,
I wondered what it did with the dreams I lent it.
Does it share them with kairos, waiting still for a faith worthy?
Or are they gone for good, like the days and clouds long past?
Like the dreamers of old, who never once gave thought to waking.

These Are the Thoughts That I Have When I'm Happy

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These Are the Thoughts - K's Choice

So. Much. Emarosa.
Many, many things I want to say, but there’s still much to do.
Not announcing anything until there’s something tangible to show.
Suffice it to say I have to have special writing glasses just so my eyes don’t fall out (not kidding).

“Stairs”

Climbing up a stair case, bright lights up ahead
There’s a promise waiting for you just beyond the bedroom door

Always keep moving, the gift is worth the climb
I know your body’s aching, there’ll be time to rest soon

It seems so far away, but you know you’re almost there
Hope feels impossible, but once you were impossible too

I can’t tell you what it is, ‘cause it’s not for me to know
But I hope that when you find it, it’s everything you dreamed

Words try to show you the things they’re s’posed say
Even when the order’s wrong, the feeling still remains

If I could give you more, I’d give it all away
‘til peace and kindness find you, bringing love through all your days

They Send Me Away to Find Them a Fortune

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Control - Halsey

NaNoWriMo’s half over.
Mean’s there’s still half left.

“Never You(r) Mind”

Good morning!
Today is the beginning of the rest of your life!
Nothing but dreams, goals, and ambition ahead!
The world is your oyster, ripe for the taking–so take it!

That’s what the demon said, as it gnawed away at anything left precious.
It said, “Embrace your destiny!” through bone-crunching, heart-dripping metaphysical teeth.
“These are the days you’ll always remember!”
It wasn’t wrong.

Some people learn through joy, love, and laughter.
Some through misery, hatred, and vengeance.
Some never learn at all.

The eidolon has seen glory never spoken, and tells only tales of tales.
Forever watching yet never seeing.
There are things too gnarled to merit consideration.
Whatever they were, they can never be, and are left only as hideous mementos.

The darkest nights breed worlds never touched, the coolest breezes never smelt.
Within these harems of fear lie elegance so often dreamt yet never sought.
Apocrypha deemed too unholy because their skin reeks of devil’s breath.
So too, does that of the hellion murderess, but few would call her a sinner.

Demons beget demons, and cannot suffer one another.
Raw sinew breaks easy when it never expects to be broken.
Sanguisuge overconfident on all the gore purloined.
Never turn your back lest you plan to poach two more.

Remember: you are not alone.
Dwell carefully on that aphorism.
On the things that rest just behind your eyes.
Some day you may wish you were.

Across the Room Filled with People That Are Less Important than You

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Love Love Love - Of Monsters and Men

Needed a break from Emarosa.
NaNoWriMo continues on.
For the writers, I hope your writing goes well.

“Crayon for a Writer”

I wanted to draw a picture, but I didn’t know where to start.
I’m terrible with fine lines and erasers never work.
Tried tracing once or twice, but it never comes our right.
I always crumple the paper.

I wanted to draw a picture, but the colors were all gone.
It was supposed to be a gift for you, or was it for me?
It would’ve been a lovely sunset, or perhaps a sunrise.
Those are less depressing.

I wanted to draw a picture, but the setting wasn’t right.
The music was off and lighting’s all wrong.
I guess I could decorate an envelope.
But I’ve no letters to send.

I wanted to draw a picture, but I didn’t know how it’d end.
Hard to begin when there’s nowhere to go.
Graphite turns the page from gray to grayer.
Keeps the wastepaper basket employed.

I wanted to draw a picture, but I didn’t know what to say.
So I wrote you a poem instead.

Does It Almost Feel like Nothing Changed at All?

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Pompeii - Bastille

Today is the start of NaNoWriMo.
Let’s see what it brings for Emarosa.

“(N)ever More”

The old piano reached its crescendo as she turned back toward the window.
No one was there. Of course not, no one was ever there. But still, no one was there.
There used to be so much more, or had it all been only in her memory?
Even so, if it lived on within her, then wasn’t it hers to keep?

Her fingers danced along the keys, a little slower than they used to be.
Time is seldom a kindness.
But no infirmity could hinder her grace.
Nothing would stop her from playing their song.

They had met as little more than children, and many years later parted all but the same.
One wanted the world on a string, one content to be strung along.
No great travesty befell them, no horror too ugly to speak.
It was only themselves they could not overcome.

She could be happy enough, it’s true.
There’s no shame at all in simply getting by.
Whether she strives for everything or nothing at all, the sun also rises.
She knows, because not a day goes by she doesn’t watch the horizon.

So the song she keeps playing on, not for any good reason but perhaps to fill the empty space.
For if she lets the walls fall down around her, then what are her hands for?
She pretends she doesn’t think about it, but she couldn’t ever let herself forget.
For if she lets go of what she loves, what is her heart for?

The old piano cascades echoes all around, from the window to the wall, and beyond.
And no one was there. Of course not, no one was ever there.