Pleased that my poem, "between the lines," is published in the road trip themed Superpresent, Fall 2024, Vol.4, Number 4 issue. The poem appears on page 12.

https://indd.adobe.com/view/6f68afbf-3105-40a5-92df-99a7e2658ddd

 

The Hand Whisper

 

 

dawn

is worse

 

the years

pass one by two

 

on my side

I wait for its return

 

a hand whisper

as her breath haunts my nape's chilled hairs

 

my heart remembers

that curved arm kiss warming up sleeping skin

 

the way she made air move

how it crossed over like a glider finding home

 

I wonder how much longer

before I will feel a her here behind me once again

 

to be a man a woman wants

to turn to and hold for morning comfort from night's smiling exhale

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©2024 Aaron Williams

Published in Months To Years, Fall 2024 issue

A nice birthday present arrived in the form of an acceptance of one of my poems by Months to Years. The poem was written six years ago and was submitted about 100 times to try to find its published home. http://monthstoyears.org/the-backstory/ has a precious backstory and this poem of mine was a perfect fit for them and their journal a perfect fit for the work. 

Digital and then printed publication to follow in their upcoming Fall issue. In the meantime, here's a look at their Summer 2024 issue.

http://monthstoyears.org/

The Challenged

 The Challenged

 

 

There was a magic about him

to walk into a neighborhood bar

randomly, purposefully step up to strangers

shake their hands without saying a word

move on to the next, and the next, and then leave

 

Daily, his routine was celebrated

as was his name, Sedric

bespectacled, near bald

always wearing crisp clean khakis

solid-colored, short-sleeved shirts and patterned neckwear.

 

When he did speak

the words seem to stab

like they were interrupting

some inner voice already in conversation

like a waitress jabs, “Anything else?”

 

What Sedric wore brightest

was a smile of accomplishment

perhaps a set number of hands impacted

or a circuit finished, like a marathoner's last mile

like a pen happily returning to its plastic pocket protector

 

On the grayer days

he would drag his necktie

like some unholy umbrella

confessing to the sidewalk

how long the hours were

 

Everywhere we live

there is a Sedric shaking hands

whom we see in a foretelling mirror

beyond the taint of laughter

whispering, "There, but for the grace..."

 

                                              Aaron Williams

              @2023 by Arts by the People for inclusion in their Moving Words collaborative film project

Note:  Over a nine-year span, this poem was submitted more than 200 times to a variety of literary journals worldwide. I always believed in the piece.  It was only when accepted by ARTS by the People did I realize the deep imagery of the work and how it could indeed inspire a film. The film aired November, 2023.

 Whoosh of a Sliding Glass Door 

There is a part of me rural 
like deer gathering on Sunday morning 
like the scent of skunk entering my car vent 
cans of Busch rusting in red clover 
and lilacs blooming, lilacs blooming, just for me 

There is a part of me rural 
as a blue jay swoops, screeching at my cat 
as she explores an unleashed frontier 
green emboldens after a welcomed rain 
as I am ionized after each shower of the Perseids 

There is a part of me rural 
like dust resting on a country store's front windowsill 
"Come in, run fingers over your past" 
waiting to be reborn, then being reborn 
my inner child toddles on barn wood flooring 

There is a part of me rural 
as the whoosh of a sliding glass door 
has inside running outside 
mint green sheets waving at turquoise gutters 
free from a reality that nothing is on tv 

There is a part of me rural 
like cascading billboards for Meramec Caverns 
like winds winding the giant ball of twine 
streams of red, white and blue church doors 
staring at free air defining my simpleRR smile 

 

                                                                                                                                                Aaron Williams

Published 2023 in Kansas City Voices, Vol. 18 

Holiday Remembered

Fifteen years in the making, I am pleased to offer the now published version of "Holiday Remembered," appearing January 6, 2023, in Panoplyzine, Issue 23, Winter 2023

Link to Holiday Remembered

I am pleased that three poems were accepted in the fourth quarter of 2022. Yay. For some reason having problems getting the link for the first one appearing online to show in this blog. Please copy and paste into your search engine to read it. Not sure how to fix this problem. Hmmm.

https://panoplyzine.com/holiday-remembered-by-aaron-williams-2/

Buck on Baseball

a concrete poem published by Boog City, issue 137, 2020

https://wordpress.boogcity.com/boog-city-paper/boog-city-137-the-baseball-issue/buck-on-baseball/

Mississippi

a concrete poem published by The Scores, Issue 9, 2021 

Showing Me the Moon

(A Terzanelle for Dr. Michael Castro, the first official St. Louis Poet Laureate)

 

 

showing me the moon

underwear too far down

I thought of him a loon

 

more harlequin than clown

the pattern was quite checkered

underwear too far down

 

I feared a sight soon peckered

lower and lower slid his pants

the pattern was quite checkered

 

his grab too often on his lance

got the lad excited

lower and lower slid his pants

 

too soon he was self-knighted

waddle waddle everywhere

got the lad excited

 

the question remained who would stare

waddle waddle everywhere

showing me the moon

I thought of him a loon

Published 2019 in the now-defunct Not Your Mother's Breast Milk blog