Tag Archives: poets

Wishing you a Merry Christmas!

Season’s greetings everyone! This year has been a wonderfully creative time for me, both in my writing and personal life, and so i just want to thank everyone for joining me this past year in all the fictional happenings that just fell out of my head. In addition to my writing catalog expanding a little, my family made an expansion of its own with the birth of our daughter Arwen, making this a truly magical period in my life.

To everyone who checked out my writing this year, or followed my work, I thank you. It has always been my desire to have others read and enjoy what i do here. So thank you for taking the time to support me as a writer and storyteller. I hope to have some exciting things happening next year on the blog, starting with the big “re-vamp” of Vampire Boys Of Summer. I say big, because the tale is fleshing out further through the editing process and I’ll be retiring the original graphics used to promote the tale in favor of something new, which I think represents the story a lot better. All that will begin the first week in January, so keep an eye out.

Okay, enough plugging my work. Find yourself some mistletoe and share the holiday season with your loved one. And while Haru and Nora exhibit the most wonderful time of Christmas in today’s graphic, they and their little ole creator wish you the merriest of times this holiday. We look forward to celebrating clear into the new year with you. God bless and Merry Christmas to all 🙂

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Native Ground (poem)

You have sold the earth

As if it were yours to own

Hundreds of years of harmony 

In the fields we sown;

We changed to be like you

And when that was not enough 

You sent us across the nation

To eke out a living in the rough;

Never mind that our ancestors stood

Among the trees you cut down

Our mothers gave us life in birth

Right here on native ground;

The peace you promised never comes

Not even in the space of today,

The graves of our forefathers trampled upon

By your children while at play;

And we weep not just for ourselves

But for you and your sad greed

For you will never ever have enough

Always wanting more than you need;

And you may feel the world is yours

But the earth cannot be owned

Any more than the air itself

Or the river that carries us home…
By Paul D Aronson.

Sleeping Gods in poetry and prose

Today I thought I would try a little experiment. Consider it a challenge or prompt if you’d like. The challenge to myself was to write a short poem or rhyme, as well as a short piece of prose or free write. Both pieces had to cover the same subject or theme, and would allow the reader to see it in two different ways. I don’t know if I succeeeded in this, but here’s what I came up with. Hope you enjoy.

SLEEPING GODS

We are the dreams of the sleeping gods 

Peacefully adrift on oceans of time

Wondering if there is more than this

Being a mere fragment of the mind.

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Once, when I was young, I dreamed I was a dream, and at any moment the gods would awake and I would find myself drifting off into nothing, my whole life amounting to just a figment of heaven’s imagination. In this, the futility of growing up became apparent. For after all, if we are but a dream in the minds of the gods, then nothing is permanence. At any given moment, our very world could change, even to the point where the gods wished to dream of us no more.  

50 Word Poetry

*Okay, I guess I’m feeling inspired this morning or something, so now here I go with a variation on the 50 word challenge. This time around the task is to write a poem of 50 words based on the image heading this post. Again, I selected this from random images on the web. I was feeling kind of hippy this AM so it appealed to me, and this poem resulted. Hope you enjoy! If you feel equally inspired, please feel free to post a 50 word poem of your own in the comments, or on your own blog. Please provide us a link so everyone can go check it out. Thanks*

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Green light and clear water

against her dark skin,

naked she wades into the pool,

letting the glorious cool

bathe her in its liberation,

like an attentive lover,

seeping into her very core,

as she sinks further

to rest upon the slick, smooth stones,

bare to the elements and I.

Dark Eyes & Bated Breath

“Dark Eyes & Bated Breath”

I walk through the house stopping every clock

So the hands of time would be still

For I wish to capture this moment for eternity

And bring it back to me at will.

Her form and face etched upon my eyes

The taste of her skin to linger on

The melting kiss from her sweet soft lips

Her voice holding me within her song.

I never thought there would be such a love

I could know beyond imagined prose

That I would attempt to stop the time

And freeze it before she goes

To savor her frame where it lies

Wrapped up with mine like this

To drink her lips like morning dew

Or perhaps an evening kiss

While angels sing to lost lonely lovers

I will lose myself in her depths

Forevermore to be held in thrall

In dark eyes and bated breath.

2017 Paul D Aronson.