#OctPoWriMo Day 23/Photo Challenge: Free Verse – “You Might” #amwritingpoetry #photochallenge


For OctPoWriMo Day 23 the Prompt is see me.


Today’s prompt is See Me. I love the simplicity and strength of this statement. What is it that you wish others knew about you? What would you want those in your closest relationships to acknowledge? What is your truth?


Credit: Michael Matkezo

You might see me,
You might not.
You might peer behind paintings,
Under the table,
Into the cavernous closet,
Darkness swiping with claws.
You might see me,
You might not.
You might have a sense of humor,
Drifting down the hallways,
Laughter trickling, a babbling brook,
A bridge that draws me closer.
You might see my bare face stained red with tears;
You might see me in classic makeup,
Or the hollowness under my eyes —
Too many endless nights settling.
You might experience the execution of words;
Cut ruthlessly unheard.
The ruins that form a masterpiece,
If only in my dreams.
You might see me, you might not,
As the tsunami crashes in,
A wall of glass, of water hovering.
A wooden doll who’s splintered,
As mere gossamer threads support.
You might see me, you might not.
All the foreign lands I’ve wandered,
With flashlight under the covers.
Reading contemporary romance and adventure;
Classic books scattered with historical texts,
Fashion magazines and journal articles.
The fine pull of modern literary works,
As they entice in ever-altering persuasion.
You might find Milton and Donne,
Next to Atticus or Lang Lev.
E. Hanson next to Hemingway and Frost.
You might see me, you might not.
Because, perhaps, the eye of hurricane,
Isn’t a disaster storming?
Perhaps, it’s a secret hideaway,
And suddenly, after everything,
After every step and stumble;
Clarity rings as bells.
And the water rushes in,
A ruthless baptism;
A tale told by survivors.
You might see me,
You might not.

©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.
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Scary Statistics


Resharing for Krista Lauren ho put together this piece on an illness called Potts, that is both physical and mental. Potts is also a symptom or often a parallel disease for those who suffer from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS/ME). I’m hoping sharing this post brings awareness! #mentalhealth #health #potts #chronicfatigue

Krista Lauren

My interest in blogging so much happened a year or two after I got sick with POTS. I’ve always loved to write and have had several different blogs or online journals throughout the years, but this is the first one that is really here to stay.

Despite today being Halloween, it is also the last day of Dysautonomia Awareness month, which is something I haven’t been able to touch on a ton since I was gone for much of October. Instead of writing about my own viewpoint, I am going to post some fun facts from the Dysautonomia International Facebook page — along with a few little comments about some of them. Also, Dysautonomia is an umbrella term for autonomic nervous system disorders, and POTS is my specific disorder.

Screen Shot 2018-10-31 at 10.51.16 AM All photos credit of DysautonomiaInternational.org. Check it out!

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Brain fog is perhaps one of the most frustrating symptoms of Dysautonomia because…

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#OctPoWriMo Day 20/Three Line Tales: Poem – Blank Verse – “The Red of Sleep” #3LineTales #amwritingpoetry


For OctPoWriMo Day 20 the prompt is: What color is it? Also, combining with #3LineTales from Sonya of Only 100 Words. Unfortunately, I’ve more than 3 lines or stanzas, but the picture works well!


Credit: Andre Benz Via Unsplash

What color is it? Blood-red or poppy?

Vermilion, cherry, apple or roses?

Gerbera-Daisy bled, or Scarlet?

Rust, copper, orange-red, red-wine or dead-red?

Is it the color of sin –a siren?

Or the shade of glory in battle?

Is it a Chinese wedding dress beaded,

Or cinnamon hearts on Valentine’s?

Is it love or fierce aggression? Anger?

Is it blood slipping down a soldier’s blade?

Blood of every fallen man, history’s —

Nameless sacrificed for freedom or,

To conquer land, or escape into the —

Red Sea parted, never turned back blue.

Red is memory, passion, delight, and —

Death that stains, with transgressions ink;

Indelible as a teacher’s x-marks.

Red’s Opium Dens, Jingle Jangle’s dread;

But, most I think of poppies that blow, grow,

On Vimmy Ridge, where our youth bled out, all —

These wars where soldiers died for peace.

It reigns, while tyrants burn, and hero’s sleep.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

OctPoWriMo Day 20/Saturday Mix: Poem – Lunes – “Preserve Hope” #amwritingpoetry #SaturdayMix


For OctPoWriMo Day 20 the prompt is time stands still. Also combining with Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix double-take Prompt. The word homophone sets this week are: groan – reaction to hearing a pun, and groan – has gotten larger, and guessed – past tense of guess, along with, guest – a visitor.


Credit: OctPoWriMo Day 20

“Someone once told me that time was a predator that stalked us all our lives. But I rather believe that time is a companion who goes with us on the journey, and reminds us to cherish every moment because they’ll never come again. What we leave behind is not as important as how we lived.” ~Captain Picard, Star Trek: Generations


Popcorn groans, flowering fluff unbeknownst,

Crackle, crunch; dust —

Evenings remembered butter-soft delight.

*****

Guessing if tonight, presents unpackaged;

Cheeseball, vegetable rolls,

Summer sausage, spinach dip, crackers.

*****

Time you don’t amble here,

You speed-walk,

Then, in terror groan — pause.

*****

Predator or prey, Grimm Reaper,

Perhaps you’re one?

Companion or foe, frequent guest.

*****

Our little moments add together,

Time pace beside;

Where’s the meaning? Preserve Hope.

*****


©️Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 19/Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “Free Love” #amwritingpoetry #photochallenge


For OctPoWriMo Day 19, the prompt is “What Do You Want?” I’m combining with NEKNEERAJ’s MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge.


Credit: PrettyScary@DeviantArt

They say when you breath slow, head between your legs,
When your mind works out things,
Your lost words will flicker home.
You’ll not feel drained, the sky’ll end hailing;
You’ll soak up the rain, a starving tulip, not cowering.
There are ways to feed your soul, and feed mouths.
And you try to listen inside,
to the conscience that knows only His tones.
I have plans, great journeys ahead;
I plan for you to prosper and bloom despite your frail limbs.
Yet, I scramble; I’m turning up rocks as I limp;
Tilling this garden, as my hands bleed life.
Dirt acrid, stuck in my nails, tattooed on my skin,
An oder I’ll not forget —fresh, as the dew on the grass after the storm;
Nose-wrinkling pungent, life’s essence.
I peer into the vastness, to the valley where I beg to rest.
I’m tumbling with trepidation; I’m scared of unknown sensations.
I’m pushing against the grain — I’m not easily killed, defeated as weeds by chemicals and garden gloves.
Lie near me on the peppermint grass, stroke my hair as it floats ‘round my face;
Loose on the grass as whiskey, as in the pale chinook winds, we find peace and relax.
Lie beside me, for I am weary of fighting alone;
I don’t know how to carry your burdens — our burdens or mine.
My eyes slip closed and I sleep in Neverland,
Lost girl fierce, but never little.
Still, I’m the determined pink daisy as a-new-day’s sunlight feeds my soul;
So, nourish it well dear one, and for your love, don’t ask so much that I break.
Feed my soul, hear my prayers, Lord.
Sometimes I’m the wilting violets, the frost slips in as fingertips black pluck at my leaves, my frozen petals.
Feed my soul, and answer its song.
Have I chosen right?
Or, am I gliding towards a ledge,
More than hanging my toes over a bit;
Am I free falling towards darkness and sin?
Or, am I trying to trust, to hope, and to love?
A entrepreneur for authenticity and someone whose love sets us both free.
Oh Lord, am I free wheeling to death?
A cat who’s twitched too late before the coyotes growl at bay;
Before mistakes will cost me dear.
Yet, in the end, my love and I are asleep in the grass, Protect our small worlds,
I can’t find the answers and each day we struggle.

Hear our petitions when we forget, you carry us both when we stumble — even when we can neither find free love, but from you.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 18/FFtAW: Poem – Bop – “Vapid Princess” #amwritingpoetry #flashfiction


For OctPoWriMo Day 18 the Prompt is Once Upon A Time. I’m combining with Priceless Joy’s FFftAW Flash Fiction Challenge.


Castles, fairy godmothers, glass slippers, and enchanted roses. When you hear the words “once upon a time” these items might be what it brings to mind. Say those four words aloud and it might make you anticipate something magical, something ethereal, something beyond the ordinary. When was the last time you experienced a once upon a time moment?



Princess fair, you primp gold hair, unaware.

So caught in your image, you disparage,

The court gathered in hallway ambling.

Waiting for your attention, gamblin —

Their worth on your grace, pithy attentions;

Lashes flutter blank, fish-like retention.

Vapid princess you’ve no heart nor valor.

Vast over land with ship, you’ve no courage,

To taste the sea with the crew or emerge,

Into the bright waving your fan, vapours —

On hand, when you faint from paltry labors —

Few; you’re endurance floats away too soon;

Your characters a feather lost — you swoon.

Odd pupils, diamonds coal-zirconium,

Void smile, lips titter brash, without meaning.

Vapid princess, you’ve no heart nor valor.

A victim of aristocracy, raised —

Without the wisdom to think and weigh;

Rights and wrongs, only to oversee whims.

Fancies of a doll’s head, which sways and sins.

Punishes for nothing; rewards work not.

No soul here — she was taught to vainly rot.

Vapid princess, you’ve no heart nor valor.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Credit: Priceless Joy

#OctPoWriMo Day 17/Photo Challenge: Poem – “Lay Down Your Guns” #amwritingpoetry #PhotoChallenge


For OctPoWriMo Day 17 the Prompt is Madness Reigns. I’m combining with NEKNEERAJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge. Inspired by Joyrose’s piece It’s Not Rocket Science!


Credit: Art Universe @ Instagram

World builder, psycho destroyer

With your purple-pits for eyes,

You black-eyed raven with pitiless guise.

Hiding your intentions,

You cannot snatch them back — nevermore.

You are wicked madness in destruction,

Shedding humanity, no magic world-builder, but you could’ve been.

You could’ve been eloquence or passion,

Most of all you could’ve been sweet-grass alive.

There are a lot of should haves,

Could haves that might have been.

But it comes down to what is, what was —

A descent into wretched madness, no logic nor reason.

Reason so convoluted it reigns hellfire,

Bullets from a gun, shots ricochet, echo in the synagogue.

Flesh squelching, screams, oaths muttered, defiling God’s alter;

You reaped havoc, chaos unleashed.

You were meant to be loved, to persevere;

No to blame others — to forgive.

For we each share responsibility for what we’ve all done;

And we don’t always know the consequences,

How far reaching are actions ripple as stones tossed.

But there are times we’re cognizant,

And some of us, still, desire that the world burn.

Erupt into millions of Hanukkah flames,

The sacred hanukkiyah candles spilled — desolation.

Now we mourn your disaster intended,

Now we mourn children,

Now we mourn families.

You are chaos, pandemonium released.

You did not find absolution,

Only a cause you shouldn’t have killed for.

We all carry our burdens, rocks in our bellies.

We haul them around, as third-world children starving,

Infested with parasites, with death.

Now, the grieving are yoked in disbelief,

And you’re lost endless in the bleak.

No more guns and glory, no more madness;

Help those who need help find it —

Help them not into chaos descend.

Aid those on the edge,

Before off the canyon’s ledge they dive,

Boulders splintering life, bodies of tree husks;

Cut short with a whispered litany.

A Rabbi’s murmured blessings — some people’s last zenith;

Having only ‘just,’ enough time, before their candle flickers.

Rises with smoke, ashes, and incense;

This malice and hatred’s a repetitive cycle — ‘so,’ we beg:

Lay down your guns.

Lay down your guns.

Lay down your guns.


©️Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 16/Three Line Tales: Poem — “Might Time’s Ten” #amwritingpoetry #3LineTales


For OctPoWriMo Day 16 the Prompt is Catch Me When I Fall. Also, thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.


Today’s prompt is Catch Me When I Fall. Finding that person who will support you at every turn is such an important part of any relationship. Also significant is what happens after the fall. How would you describe the balance between giving support and receiving it?


Credit: Ty Feague via Unsplash.


Lakeland country, artistic installation — imposition,

Swimming past carvings,

Totem poles, spirits guiding home.

*****

Murky fog, crippling cat feet,

Lurking towards us;

We’re invincible, we hold on.

*****

We don’t crash and implode,

We douse flames;

Together we’ve might times ten.

*****


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Promote Yourself Monday- October 29, 2018


Click in the reblooged post and share your recent written work at The Go Dog Go Cafe, Monday Oct 28th. Check out some new writers too!

Go Dog Go Café

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Welcome to Promote Yourself Monday.  All Go Dog Go Cafe readers, guest writers, and baristas are invited to post one link to one specific post (600 words or less please!) from your blog into the comments section below.

If you post a link, be sure to read some of the other great writing people have linked to.

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#OctPoWriMo Day 15/Photo Challenge/Saturday Mix: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Higher Ground” #amwritingpoetry #SaturdayMix #PhotoChallenge


For OctPoWriMo Day 15 the Prompt is based around Umbrellas. Also, I’m combining with NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Photo Challenge and Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Saturday Mix based on Opposing Forces and the opposite word-pairs: harvest and plant, and lower and raise.


Credit: Kayla Erin.


I meant to use an umbrella — I failed,

The rain kept pouring, I couldn’t escape.

Thought this flood a dream raised; it was too late,

To escape the rising waters’ cold, and hail.

Our harvest, sea enveloped; I was pail.

Adrift in the Atlantic, no sails;

Waves engulfed all we planted, none were safe.

I bawled, darkness swallowed our home place.

I prayed, I shouted; the whole of me railed.

No umbrella could save a girl from disaster.

I swam swift as I quivered, believed —

In myself, hoped I still had a chance.

To survive despite wretched nature’s dance.

Then, on higher ground, flooding lowered, I —

Grabbed a steeple, a cross; prayed my thanks, sighed.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.