Published Poem on Spillwords: “Light, Darkness, Battle, and, Glory.” #amwritingpoetry #Spillwords


Credit: Spillwords


Please check out my latest poetry piece published on http://www.spillwords.com: Light, Darkness, Battle, & Glory.

–A.M. Eifert


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

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Photo Challenge: Poem — Free Verse — “Reverence and Instinct” #amwritingpoetry #photochallenge


Credit: NEKNEERAJ of http://www.mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com


When the dust clears and you can see through the shadows,

When the deep dark ends, and you might be okay.

You might move forward, but you’re fragile as tissue;

When you find your voice, but you also lose it’s tune.

When you’re there to listen, but don’t hear solid proof,

When the dust clears, the rubble remains trapped between a rock face.

You can creak forward when you’re on your knees,

Praying it’s not one good day, but a second, with real-life dreams —

A crystallization of thought.

When wounds shame, and then you somehow claw forward;

Remove self-focus look to others; is it His will, or my will?

Somedays the weight is heavy, the yoke chokes,

Then, He lifts my broken spirit,

Pets a stray cat peaking for hope,

Knowing I could swallow a butterfly whole and choke,

Or experience misspoken glory, and let it rest exposed.

A pendulum of breath and instinct,

Cross-eyed reverence, nature’s ravenous pull;

Pounce or be still?


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

#100WordWednesday: Fiction — Violet Falling #amwritingfiction #flashfiction


Credit: Bikurgurl.


Steph tilted his chin towards the ‘road closed signs. “While the crews worked, poor Violet tumbled off her balcony.”

Mike sighed. “Happens every summer. She’s gonna have some awful bruising. I’ve lived here most of my life, she was beautiful — used to call her Aunt Violet — but she has her vices too.” He mimed drinking from a flask.

“She has her reasons. Once, she married a lawyer in a bright yellow wedding dress. One day he left; she’s been stern since.” Steph shook his head. “I remember as a kid, she gave us Hershey kisses.” He stretched his arms. “It’s a sad thing but best get back; my wife has dinner on.”

Mike spoke as he turned from his neighbour. “Violet will be fine. Maybe she’ll stop drinking home brew, discover that she’s got lots of time before her.” Stephen shrugged; the two neighbours walked up the porch stairs to their respective homes.

A.M Eifert


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: “Small Steps” #amwritingfiction #flashfiction


Thanks to Sonya for hosting #3LineTales.


Credit: https://unsplash.com/photos/e5eDHbmHprg


His foot padded on terra firma and his heart squeezed; lunar dust floated in the vacuum of space. Inside the space suit he sweated bouncing, taking careful but ‘small’ steps for ‘mankind;’ he was a history-maker, a hero. Still, part of him wondered if the effort had been worth it as the specs of lunar dust in his gloves floated; he contemplated whether he was nearer to his maker here or on the cerulean orb below.


–A.M. Eifert


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Fiction — “Sea Dragon” #amwritingfiction #flashfiction


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge.


Credit: sound-dream tumblr.


The freeway lights gleamed in the darkness, blending with celestial blurs of stars. Giselle drove home, bit by bit across the bridge. The air was tinged with sea salt, while impatient drivers honked their horns. Giselle was amazed that each night people never tired of the cacophony. A ship horn blew across the sky and she edged her car forward.

Then, a harrowed screech from the bridge had her and other drivers screaming. In another second, the bridge swayed and cars slid towards each other. Giselle bit her lip as a roar thundered and the bridge swayed.

A massive yellow eye blinked, and the ancients lizard’s tongue flicked against reptilian lips. Giselle lay her hand against her beating heart; it was only the local sea dragon. He’d swum under the bridge and his ridged form had scraped the bottom. Giselle stepped out of the car as did many others, to watch the monster swim on into the sea amidst the starry light.

She noted others stepped out of their scraped and battered cars. It wasn’t uncommon for the dragon to hit the bridge, it was built to handle his force. No one had more than minor injuries; the police and national guard kept him tranquilized.

Now and then, the dosage was too much and the dragon was woozy as he hunted small creatures in the sea. Giselle stepped into her vehicle, and the traffic moved again, quicker this time. A part of Giselle ached for the dragon, too prehistoric ( perhaps, medieval) for the modern world; the only sea dragon left.

A.M. Eifert


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse — “How To Be A Bird” #amwritingpoetry


Credit: Roland Denes via Unsplash.


The wings of summer come flying soft,

Puffs of feathers fluffed towards the sky;

I do not know, or not know not how,

Such warbling birds, with limps can fly.

I don’t know why they limp as babes,

Tossed from the nest, before the cat eats;

Whiskers dripping in homemade cream,

Somehow at times we fly as much as we need,

Up into the sky, to breathe;

But, sometimes we are stones, we sink to the floor.

And the world around us explodes,

Fur, yowls, claws as life takes another bite;

What goes on in the mind, is a curious thing.

Pathways misfiring, and there’s no end of ammo to spark,

Images, fear, flatness, some kind of pain,

Mental, a darkness physical that grabs at the mind;

And birds might fly for a limited time —

But all of us fall, at the end of he day.

And sleep cannot always solve,

Sometimes, light hurts your eyes, as if the world’s a giant;

Ray exposing you for every sin, and vice, every deed ever done wrong —

Every lie, and every past sin, no matter that you’ve turned;

I’ve no idea how life can revive, when I’ve already asked for so much.

But there are no words,when you’ve been robbed,

When there’s hurt but you can’t find the cause.

When part of you is broken,

And you can’t fuse the cracks;

And the world spins, and flows,

Dizzy from the ride, you always feel as if you’ll puke your insides.

When the past repeats, and you think you’ve healed,

When the cat gets it’s cream, and only feathers remain;

When your eyes can’t see, or the mind can’t connect,

What then, each path, the doorway shuts,

Then what? Positivity aside —

Then, somehow a glimmer reveals;

New wings rebuilt, fragile –no one knows why,

But they’re a gift, and such mercy means you can become,

That a future has possibility,

And warbling birds trill a tune,

No matter the storms or trials.

The cat will have to wait,

This bird’s wings flap for miles.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

100 Word Wednesday: “Star of the Floor” #amwritingfiction


Credit: Spencer Davis via Unsplash.


Leona tossed her hat. In the end, it was her on the dance floor in nude heels. A flash of light caught her eye on the turquoise ribbon from her hat; she laughed as the audience clapped. Her partner grinned, and she strutted towards the bar. Sweat dripped.

“A shot tonight Leona?” Carlos lifted the tequila bottle; Leona held up her hand.

“Not tonight, just water. Two.” She gulped the first glass, and after the second.

“Take it easy out there, Leona,”Carlos chided. You don’t have to be the star of the show every night. Take it easy sometimes.”

Leona threw back her long hair. “I can’t help it.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “You’re the owner. Some nights it’s okay to relax.”

Leona pushed away from the bar. “I’m a dancer, that’s what I do. My mother did the same, her mother to. You know how it is.”

Carlos’ face broke into laugh lines as he chuckled. “I knew your mother well.”

Leona fixed her lipstick. “She was what she was; so am I.”

The music for the next dance song played and Leona twirled into place. As long as she could, her grandmother and mother’s legacy would continue at the dance club they began.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: “Lake Loss” #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to Sonya for Only 100 Words.


Credit: Kong Jun via Unsplash.


Waves lapped at the shores, on the sand, toe-burying beaches; a lone cross stood where Jeffrey Adams built sand castles. He giggled as the tide came in, his mother laughed as he splashed into the lake further; then, the bottom of the lake dropped along with her heart. Seven-years later the blaring sun stung Mrs. Adam’s eyes; each June, their family went to Pebble beach and hung floating beach toys on the cross — Jeffrey has loved his flamboyant pink flamingo best.

(Sorry, a sad one.)


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Fiction – I Need You Anyways #amwritingfiction #photochallenge #mindlovemiserysmenagerie


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge.


Credit: MLMM — Gabriel Isak


Grey, bleak, fogginess floods through summer light. An icy breeze whipping hair in my mouth, as the gulls chirp overhead and my last bottle shatters; no more messages in a bottle, carried in the waves. Paper airplanes glide in the breeze, one after the other. Will the breeze carry these words far enough? To the next island, the next ship? Or will these bottle–less messages be pounded in the wild storm, in the coast? Will they be understand? Will they be heard? Or, will it be too late to say the words that are never easy to say, never were: “I need you anyways.”


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Haikus — “Yesterdays End” #amwritingpoetry


Credit: Ihor Malytyski via Unsplash.


Evenings end July’s crackling,

Sparklers glimmer, night comes,

Friends close the evening.

*****

Another summer passes,

Red and white, so glorious;

Freedom, acceptance.

*****

But, you’re gone, tomorrow still;

Before our eyes emptiness,

Solstice without you.

****

A nightmare, a mercy too,

Still, there’s no you,to greet near;

Go on despite — live —

****

As you did, with grandpa’s death;

Later, maybe better words —

Can hark tearful tunes.

*****

For now you’re gone, passed but this —

Is your beginning blooming;

Neither is it our end.

*****


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.