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J.A. Aarntzen

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Member Since: Apr, 2008

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EVIL SEED: An Occult Sci-fi action adventure (pb)
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Evil Seed: Mother Earth vs. the Human Race; Who Will Survive? Launched onto a surreal odyssey by a desperate call for help, a heroine reluctant to save her own unwort..  
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The Road
by J.A. Aarntzen
Rated "G" by the Author.
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A poem about the road we all take.


The Road

 
Left on a road that stretched to the horizon
Where towering clouds cast a spell of gloom ahead
Could not return the way that I came
As that path had disintegrated into a nothingness
Had no choice but to forge ahead into the pall
Felt my resolve crumble into dusty chunks
Of doubt and fear and a desire to be crushed
Could no longer push myself to go any further
 
Fell to the road and tasted its sediments
Others had gone down it before me
Their sweat and blood dripped and mingled
With its sand and tar and hardened its surface
Whether they gave up or went on ahead
I could not know as my fingers sought to dig in
Their choice and fate had nothing to do with me
This was my struggle – its resolution all mine
 
Ahead the storm clouds devoured the road
Hiding from me its path into the future
Behind me all was being annihilated
My world was collapsing into a small remnant
Where all that was left was my inner core
That I had thought that I had known all my days
But now seemed unrecognizable in its bare essence
Was no longer sure that if indeed I existed
 
The road felt like it was merging with me
Melding its twists and turns into my remains
It seemed that I now was nothing but a trail
Coming from nowhere and leading to oblivion
A string untethered and caught in a spinning wind
That moved erratically on whims unknown to me
I could no longer claim anything about it as my own
There was nothing left to me and I was now at home
Storyteller on the Lake
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Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan
love this, such a metaphoric write, well done!
Reviewed by Gianetta Ellis
What an amazing journey you have led us down. There is so much here. Your story unfolds from the narrow to the infinite. You acknowledge your connection to others who've gone down this same road and imprint this on the reader's psyche with
"tasted its sediments
Others had gone down it before me
Their sweat and blood dripped and mingled
With its sand and tar," despite your assertion "this was my struggle - its resolution all mine."

It feels to me that this is a micro-apocalypse, but all at once universal. The road is Life and eventually we lose our corporeal selves unto it, merging with it on an unfathomable and eternal level. "Home" becomes who we truly are when fully merged - our false selves shed.

So much to consider and analyze, interpret, feel, consume . . . this leaves me reeling (and I love the word "pall").
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