Aramis' Workshop

  • A Bard’s Folktale
    • Roaming Cadenza
      • Chapter One
      • Chapter Two
      • Playlist
    • Dustland Requiem
      • Chapter One
      • Chapter Two
      • Playlist
  • Tales of Emarosa
    • Sea of Dragonfire
    • The Willow in the Wood
    • Feathers and Thorns
    • Those Who Remained
  • Short Stories
    • A Lesson from Elly
    • Okami, the Grey Wolf
    • Broken Angels
    • The Vices and Virtues of Sera Ryan
    • Sam
    • Killing Dragons
    • Snowfall
    • Sand Castles
  • Poetry
  • About Aramis

It’s Been Some Time, but This Time Ain’t Even

Thursday, October 17th (2019) @ 21:36 EDT

Graduated and certifiably done with school for a bit.
Finally. It’s been way too long since any writing’s gotten done.

“Untitled”

If I could tell you everything I know would you listen?
Would you take in the mysteries with the horrors?
The triumphs with the catastrophes?
Would you revel in that moment I learned to hear a smile?
Would you turn away from the visceral repulsion of racism as you walk down the street existing the wrong way?

Rubies. Succulent. Like the ripest pair of wet lips ever just out of reach.
Hair. Your hair. Always everywhere. In my teeth as much as my eyes. The scent intoxicates.
Just the thought of you makes my heart race and I wonder: may I think of you any time I please?
Never ask ‘cause you’ll never know, but what if you did?
How quickly that image might change.
And they wonder why every thought’s a secret.
Memories a forbidden reprieve.
If you stay they’ll keep you, but they’ll never love you.
So often I wonder: is today the day the lie will be enough?
Defeat and victory weigh heavier on each shoulder the longer that question lingers.
But who could judge when they’ve never seen the glint in your eye as you walk in wearing that silken dress?

It felt like reality, thinking of the future lying ahead–the future I’m laying.
The sun rises, the dog is healthy, and bellies are full.
Whether the faces hold expression I cannot tell, for it is not my place to impress intent upon them.
A millenia ago couples wrapped in repose remained coupling;
today they are much the same, and for that we can be grateful.

Tags: life, poetry
Leave a Comment

Sing Like You Think No One’s Listening

Wednesday, August 10th (2016) @ 22:30 EDT

It’s been a while.
Summer flares in rebellion to autumn’s swift approach, and children’s days become a little shorter, a little less exciting (except for those who need not be taught).
For a season of death, fall brings such welcome tidings as sunburnt memories ferment like fine champagne.

“For the Lilies”

As I write this you lie sleeping in the room beside me.
A few days from now you’ll be gone once again, and I don’t know what I’ll do.
We always think we have just a little longer, even with the finish line in sight.
And though already you’ve gone, I still linger each time I pass by your door.

I dream as the sun rises because I can choose when to tend,
The furtive plowman digs deep, sowing victory into dead ends.
And as I plan another dozen summers sipping wine with dear friends,
Somewhere, pulsing deep, the heartache still mends.

Tags: poetry, writing
Leave a Comment

One Bright Moment is All I Ask

Thursday, June 9th (2016) @ 01:25 EDT

Most of Act 1 for Emarosa is done.
Plan to start revisions for Act 2 in July.

Unrelated: if for some reason you’re unfamiliar with Florence + the Machine, strongly recommend you become familiar.
Life may be just a bit better because of it.
Little bit of goodness.

“To You”

To you, whom were never me nor mine, and yet…

As long as I’ve known you (if I’ve ever known you), you’ve sought something.
Never quite sure of yourself, yet never so unsure you’d listen to anyone else.
You would fancy yourself a mystery if you fancied yourself at all.
It’s no wonder you hate mirrors with what you tuck away in the back of your mind.

I’ve wanted so many things for you because I never knew what you wanted.
If there could be just one thing that would make it alright, you would have it.
And just like you, with the answers to every problem gift-wrapped upon your doorstep, you’d turn away.
You wouldn’t even know why. Not really.

You almost died once. Twice. Actually I’ve lost count.
Still, you take the future for granted as though it’s something your teacher made-up in kindergarten.
I think you were more skeptical then, before the world acquainted you to madness.
Even so, you shelter a tender heart that continues to beat with somber reluctance.

It’s impossible to say what I wanted to say.
Or rather honestly, I just wouldn’t know how.
You have a way of misunderstanding the simple things while laying complications bare.
You’re a carnival trapped in a shoe box.

So to you, whom were never me nor mine, and yet…
There’s nothing more to be done except to hope.

Hope you learn to dance.
Hope your songs roar with such elegance they rouse dreamers into lovers.
Hope the things you turn away from clutch tight with faithful arms and never let you go.

More than what you would ever believe, I hope you find a warm, caring place to rest your head beside another, and wonder just how this moment could happen to you as you nestle your face deep down, eyes weary, letting a gentle hum carry you off to sleep.

Tags: emarosa, poetry, writing
Leave a Comment

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • …
  • 8
  • Next Page »

Archives

Tags

bard's dustland requiem emarosa emarosa feathers and thorns emarosa sea of dragonfire epic indie story of emarosa evangelion layout life music NaNoWriMo neil gaiman okami poetry razia's shadow recommendations roaming cadenza short story the grey wolf those who remained video games writing