Aramis Barron's Blog, page 2

The Dragonfly It Ran Away, but It Came Back with a Story to Say

“Drafted in B minor”

She looks into you as the camera comes out of frame,

You feel your pulse pounding as the blood bursts in your veins.

He will consume you and take all but your name,

You breathe in the fire as you swallow the pain.

They feed on their energy, the world dancing to their needs,

Drawing a horror spectacle as both beauties start to lead.

They were to marry in a graveyard amidst dandelions and rotting leaves,

Because they wanted to show their lost children life persists beneath dead trees.

Locked in their eye-lines, they’re perfectly strange.

Walking step-in-step, they burn in each other’s brain.

We can see through them, and yes they are same.

But we could not hope to try and understand their game.

Tearing into thee it woke you from the dream,

Destroying piece-by-piece the blueprint of what you need.

Calling for help you’ll fight to salvage the scene,

Trying in vain to re-draw the map from the little you’ve gleaned.

But more than this I wonder is there anyone that still knows,

The tale of the little prince and his dainty, precious rose?

Then again looking back I suppose it’s all just prose,

And in the end that’s how every story goes.

Never Knew I Was a Dancer ’til Delilah Showed Me How

Four chapters written/re-written for Emarosa so far.

Don’t expect the next draft to be anywhere near ready before fall, but it’s coming along nicely.

In lieu of that, Florence Welch put together this amazing piece called The Odyssey.

It’s about 50 minutes, but well worth every one.

“Self-Portrait”

A child wandered into the woods yesterday.

We spent years searching for him, but she was nowhere to be found.

A friend says this guilt is misplaced because these things happen.

I wonder when they’ll go missing, though they’ve never really been here.

I believe that meeting love is so unlike having met her.

I also believe calories don’t count on the weekend.

No one knows what the matter was with Van Gogh. Not really.

Some understand better than they ever wanted to, though they would never tell you.

I still think about that child sometimes, and perhaps the child thinks of me.

I doubt the thoughts are the same.

You took my hand and told me to never forsake love for a lover.

Time’s not fooled by anyone: you never believed you.

I saw a thing once I couldn’t believe.

It was too much for words, and even if you had been there you still wouldn’t have seen.

So I drew you a picture to show the trees through the leaves.

The barren forest whispered as you stared at me, “Sometimes it’s better to forget the dreams.”

Some time later, or perhaps before, we finally abandoned the search.

If the child wanted to be found, then maybe we seemed decent (if not selfish).

But we know better than nature how things ought to be.

We’re more simple than we believe.

Dejalo (Nuestra Cosa)

“The Beast with the Four Dirty Paws”

Little but the scent of the hunt fell from his sickly sweet breath.

Cold air wafted through his fangs like refugees slipping the gates.

Yet in the snow he with his dirty paws lie, because what else is a sated wolf-pup to do?

He dreamt the tales of wolf kind, of his coming greatness and glory, as he did so many days before.

At times, perhaps, he’d been something else.

Maybe this wolf life wasn’t his first.

But those thoughts passed with an ebon blanket tucking away the dusk sky.

He stalked through the Thickets by moonlight, following the scent of larger game.

Whether he was brave or dumb, the red-eyed pup would not be swayed.

By an old lake rested a weary traveler that would a make a fine meal.

From around the bend the wolf-pup came, creeping with due diligence.

The sleeping fool’s apathy insulted the wolf’s cunning, but a meal is a meal all the same.

The pup lunged, and received a stern bop in-kind as the sleeper dropped a stick unto the pup’s skull.

The ground welcomed the wolf’s body with great force, shattering his teeth on impact as the fool stood above.

And so the pair’s eyes met.

The pup snarled as best he could, while the glint of the hunt shone in the wanderer’s gaze–the large man holding a steely knife.

The deathblow loomed.

The hunter’s knife swooped above the pup’s head, presenting a keen opportunity.

The wolf struck, pinning his foe to the ground and gnawing away at the weapon hand with broken teeth.

The hunter broke free, and in bloodlust the rivals stood wanting.

Until the man drew from his satchel a fresh kill, and tossed some for the pup to devour.

Before long the two sat, sated, though no more at ease than cutthroats could ever be.

Yet the sway of the traveler tugged at the pup’s insides, as though the wolf had been hunting brethren.

As the wanderer stood to leave, the pup bore the remnants of his teeth to little affect.

The traveler watched, and waited, as the pup stared him down.

The pup waited, and watched, as the traveler returned the gesture.

Each took a step toward, and a step away, circling one another.

As the game waned, the two cautiously wandered on together, no more content than an infant at birth.

By the time they’d drifted from the Thickets, the pair had become less like enemies and more like old thieves, exploiting their schemes amongst the other by moonlight.

No the matter the victor, the two continued on together.

Beasts amidst beasts can never have friends, yet all creatures know respect.

The red wolf’s first litter dwelt in the wanderer’s earliest den.

And the wanderer’s first daughter knew her guardian beast well.

When the time that always comes finally came, there were no tears to see.

For no feeling could do justice to losing half of the once and future king.

Hello Teacher Tell Me, What’s My Lesson

“A Daft Memory”

Never killed a man, but still they locked him away.

Left him in a cell of flowers and dirt because anything else would be cruel.

Even if angels are assholes, we’re not monsters.

I used to think he was beautiful.

There was a song he’d hum just before dawn.

I would’ve loved it so, had it not been his.

Every now again he crosses my mind.

I wonder if his dreams remained dreams.

Because only one could make it out, and who would you choose?

I pass the days quietly by the lake, just like we’d often planned.

He always told me not to make myself small.

This couldn’t have happened any other way.

For those of you that knew him, you never knew him.

And now you never will.

Though that’s hardly my fault, is it?

But enough of the dreary.

It’s such a pleasure to meet you.

Would you like to go to dinner?

Never Gonna Live If You’re Too Scared to Die

Got the first round of edits back for Emarosa.

May hold off on posting more for a bit as it needs some lovin’.

In the interim, a new short story, Okami, the Grey Wolf, is posted.

I Believe We Fly

Don’t Let Them See You Cry - by Manchester Orchestra

Getting back into the flow of things.
I hope the New Year has been treating you well, and you’re well on your way to where ever it is you’d like to explore.
First chapter of Emaros...

She Puts the Color Inside of My World

Daughters - by John Mayer

So this was supposed to have posted a couple weeks ago, but my automated posting systems apparently need some work…
Anyway!

—
Out for a couple weeks, but today’s my daughter’s birthday.
In honor of that, the first interlude for Emarosa, The Willow in...

It’s Sad to Imagine a World Without You

To All Of You (acoustic) - by Syd Matters

Merry New Years Eve!

The rest of Emarosa and the Sea of Dragonfire has been posted(chapter 9 and chapter 10).
This completes Act I.
There are two more acts, as well as two interludes to look forward to for the New...

I Know How to Scream My Own Name

Love Myself - by Hailee Steinfeld

Happy Summer-like Christmas and other assorted holidays!
New Emarosa(chapter 8)posted, and short story added entitled Broken Angels.
All the best.

“Broken Angels”

The crusty old man, no more wise than bitter, took his seat at an e...

And so I Tell Myself That I’ll Be Strong

Lights (iTunes Session) - by Ellie Goulding

Sea of Dragonfire chapter 7posted.

“Good, or Don’t Be”

There was a girl no one has ever seen.
She was not invisible, nor was she hidden.
She appears and disappears because she gets all attached,
but before long they’re...