#NaPoWriMo Day 7/Photo Challenge: Poem – Bop – “Sanguine Souls” #amwriting #photochallenge #poetry #MLMM


For NaPoWriMo Day 7 the Prompt is: writing out a list of all of your different layers of identity. These are all ways you could be described or lenses you could be viewed through. Now divide all of those things into lists of what makes you feel powerful and what makes you feel vulnerable. Now write a poem in which one of the identities from the first list contends or talks with an identity from the second list. Combining with NEKNEERAJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie photoChallenge.


Credit: Vincent Bourhilon


Woman child in graceful state flounders through,

Exhausted with curves of words, ink’s flow construed.

A sweet child, and a scarred adult struggling,

Methodical but scattered, spilling tears troubled.

Poet writer, editing with distaste,

In the Sky muses flow, balloons marking pace.

Creative idealist, survivor with wings,

Intrepid dreamer, with art that thrills, sings.

Facade masks, trembling limbs — nothing left,

Free-spirit, heart-thinker, world spins bereft.

Inexperienced, too much experience,

Judgement quick, while thick walls erected fence.

A fatigue that’s indescribable; it wanes —

A day, then spontaneity — pink blooms raise.

Sheets entrap, day comforts in blissful bed,

Tomorrow I’ll flex limbs, do yogi bends.

Serenity centres, pain released,

Rising — the artist designer concedes;

Inspired empathy, words can’t define,

Freedom in art from pain; sanguine souls climb.


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 8/100 Word Wednesdays: Poem – Quadrille – “The Apple Tree” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesdays


For Day 8 NaPoWriMo the prompt is: “write poems in which mysterious and magical things occur. Feel free to incorporate crystal balls, fauns, lightning storms, or whatever seems fierce and free and strange. Also, thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays from March 14, 2018.


Credit: Annie Sprat via Unsplash


In our yard,

An apple tree,

Not forbidden.

Branches grafted,

Enchanted apples.

Not with poisons;

But, healing charm.

Our family left,

Apple’s retreated.

The new owner,

Destroyed innocent magic.

Now I know,

Why he’s cursed;

While in our garden

Nature’s verdant.

In haste,

Self-imposed drought,

His yard —

A desert weeping.


©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.