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Trident Media Group is the leading U.S. literary agency and we are looking to discover and represent the next bestsellers. Share a sample of your work. If it shows promise, we will be in touch with you.
Please include the following information at the end of your post: title, genre, age range, word count, author name, why your project is a good fit, the hook, synopsis, target audience, your bio, platform, education, experience, personality / writing style, likes/hobbies, hometown, age (optional)
Profile avatar image for AaronBarth
AaronBarth in Trident Media Group

A collection

I want you I need you

To feel you I love you

But that cannot change the fact

Our hopes will not remain in tact

Our desires are just a wistful wind

Of paradise and Cardinal sin

We follow blind as a sheep in the dark

Looking for some god to spark

A joy in us to be provoked

Based on trust that ain’t no joke

An honest love that’s lights our soul

On fire with that glowing gold

A Magic power that won’t be doused

By circumstance or whereabouts

That will hold fast made to outlast

But Our moments past shatter like glass

So now’s the time to take and grab

The feeling of that gratuitous laugh

Sublime slices

The ripeness of each other’s devices

Despite prices

I’m indulging and evolving

My crisis

You can love the feeling

But time is not free

I’m waiting on what’s been coming to me

You can try to hold on

But This life is a dream

I’m hoping we can both be redeemed

You can love the feeling

But time is not free

All our moments

Are fleeing from me

You can Try to hold on

But this life is a dream

All our moments

Are fleeing from me

You’re my only-- only one who loves me holds me

When I’m lonely only, scolds me when I’ve done

Something so cold, I’ll boldly come

console you, hold our moments close so you can

tell the truth is whole, when I’m with you, there is no

hole, my soul is full, how flowers bloom, see gardens grow

I’ve come to sow, bestow you with my loving force you know

Each moment is to be cherished,

be Embarrassed cause I’m declaring you the fairest

Even marriage has it’s edges, let’s be rebellious with love extensive,

Let’s be relentless, climb any fences, over pretenses, so I’m the menace,

To your incentives, no I’m the stimulus to your intelligence, yes let’s be intimate

And get to feelin’ it, each instant for what really it is, just a second of frivolous medicine, you can’t predict the end so let’s make what we imagine

You can love the feeling

But time is not free

All our moments

Are fleeing from me

You can Try to hold on

But this life is a dream

All our moments

Are fleeing from me

---

KING OF ENGLISH LIT

English Professor,

Like Melville’s infamous lawyer?

With honest justified force,

Breathing that high air;

Must be like Re Reading America…

While enchanted students sit bravely

Prepared for an onslaught

Of natural intent, a nighttime fire

Is burning to light our minds with his lit mind.

Dive deep beneath some general

Outline. What fine points.

From a rural yard (I imagine a Hemingway home)

Learned from brown, red, white trees,

To schools: of gold so blue;

For a city of high students

He sits in a chair— that is high too.

His position to me should be exalted to literary statistician.

When he extricates it is an exorcism.

Pulling flesh from form to transform,

The carcass that remains is bloody as hell,

Easy to understand in its nakedness.

What Mind Readings,

Such deep reading,

Undoubtedly full of meaning,

Devotedly delivering his methods of teaching.

Upstanding, with classy wit,

Outstanding by brandishing sharp words as swords.

Speaks more with feeling than Othello the Moor!

A smugness of purity, what toughness, what grit…

Master of the wilderness, King of English lit!

---

In the morning, each mourning

...Just as it sounds...

I am mourning; over dead dreams.

Did I frolic through golden rich flowers?

As a young man did I smile inside

A bed of innocence.

Why did I awake to become poor?

Where did I grow old? Under what cracking roof?

I remember in the morning, each mourning

It matters not my decay,

All the "beautiful days'"

Such scattering of dutiful praise:

Will headlong, or worse, thoughtfully drown.

Maybe they'll be evaporating steam over my mouth-Soured shut with dissipating ideas of cloudy paradise...

Instead of darkness- but still, without light.

Painless truth.

Come morning of my death, when night-time dreams And hope-filled dreams have sudden left.

There is solace in the mourning.

---

Standing on my roof top

When the moon dropped

Shallow above my head

Slow night no traffic is a mellow thing

I could hear the ocean bellowing

Calling my name

So I drove to pier to take a swim

In the early am

Just to feel the icy waves

Bring goosebumps to my skin

Tired of always feeling a slave

The moonlight was awakening

Something forgotten within

My calm seafaring champion

The seas rock and won't stop for asking

wave upon wave keep crashing

slave on slaves run poor interaction

Til the routine's soothing's mastered

How'd I get Lost in the ocean

On my back floating

Why didn't I notice my horizon line unfocused

The fresh pine smell gone

My memory's turned on

Hopes of the coastland

But most hands aren't dealt

Better than their host stands

And my host is cold and boisterous

Inside this great wide open

I tried to scream but my voice just

wouldn't be redeemed

my Choices weak as dreams

I Fainted and fell asleep

The sick love is taking

Upon fainting we are awaking

No more forsaking what was forsaken

No time for taking, we're making paces

Steps into the depths

Where the water races

Kept in a chest was her body at death

Peaceful at rest

Turns out I never left

My roof, moon still blazing

Standing on my roof top

When the moon dropped

Shallow above my head

Slow night no traffic is a mellow thing

I could hear the ocean bellowing

Her past calling to me

She is more than a siren

She who fell to the bottom of the sea

Without even saying fare well

She is less than my lies when

I'm inventing to re-imagine her dying

Her smile alive

Like a boat capsizing

A willing captain Loses his prize

Kept his eyes but blind to life

Still he strives to find

The diamonds of her kindness

The Mind Ablaze, Prose&Poetry, 16-99, 10000, Aaron Barth-Martinson, thought provoking and different.

I am 21 years or older.