It's only when reading back over my work that I realise how despondent it can be. It's not my intention; I write in a free-flowing stream of thought and emotion. Evidently I have strong feelings about the state of the world in which we live...
Tag: death
A Ballad for the Bloody Wolf – Nearly there
High up on a mountain, far to the North, lies a castle; Drachenzahn. For as long as anyone can remember, Drachenzahn and its residents have watched over the quiet, snowy village of Berges, providing employment and safety. Drachenzahn, however, is hiding something...
The Sand Shed: A Poem
A poem about loved ones lost, fond memories and my own time running out. I'd say enjoy, but it's not that kind of poem. Reflect, rather...
The Wolf That Lived: A Poem
I weep, but not for me Flesh and bone, flesh and bone Turn my sorrow into lead Pull salt from sea Rip cloud from sky I'll tear it all asunder Moon is rising Light is fading Blood is spilling Revenge is my name Daughter of the damned Do you hear my howl? Do you see … Continue reading The Wolf That Lived: A Poem
Elke Wolf: The Horror
Oh, Elke. Were you tangible, were you as real as the reader, as real as me who wrote you, I wonder what you’d say having read your unwarranted biography? Would you be satisfied with its ending? Would you keep going knowing what you must go through, what you must endure to reach the end? If our own life stories were available in local libraries to be read at our leisure, would we? Is life kept interesting by not knowing what comes next?
Last Man Standing
A contender I had written for another short story competition. It takes place in the immediate aftermath of a large 15th century battle -- two enemies remain in the wake of 20,000 fallen soldiers; Ruelle De Saincourt and Vernon Valcante.
What’s Next?
It's hard to stop once you get going -- a fear in me that, if I do, I'll lose whatever momentum I was riding on. Glimpse'll be a year old in March and, in that mercurial year, I sent it to every publisher I could with little luck. Sure, I had offers from vanity presses, … Continue reading What’s Next?
Thank You: A Poem
Stiff the breeze, cold my fire Not even bones left on my pyre Trees, lucky ones with patience Patience enough for time to scatter me To those trees I hope my ashes are enough I’m sorry I wasn’t more More for you to feed and grow So eat me, digest me Return me to dust … Continue reading Thank You: A Poem
AJ Carney 