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.

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.

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.

#NaPoWriMo Day 30: “No More Anger” #amwritingpoetry


Credit: NOAA via Unsplash.


I’ve put to rest my anger, resigned —

Unrest cast away with dislike, judgement.

I can’t do it anymore, let God judge.

As for me no disquiet, no more riots.

I’d rather love life, be judged for what’s true,

Not words or assumptions misconstrued.

I’ve worked hard to be healthy, to brew —

Something good from poison, eleven-years through.

Because you think it, doesn’t mean it’s me —

Doesn’t make it true, doesn’t give proof to words.

Quiet space’s essential, sorry for the hurt.

I’ve no reason to slight anyone; no one.

All I know are bits, pieces some words curt;

It’s not about me, I don’t hate; heal this how?


©️Mandibelle16.(2019) AllRights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo Day 29: Free Verse — “Healing Splinters”’#amwritingpoetry


For NaNoWriMo Day 29, Used my own prompt again.


Credit: Marinka Vinkman via Unsplash.


A perfect pane of glass, and all seen is crystal clear,

A rock chip fractured the perfection, and something broken won’t ever be the same.

The fracture lines still show, and slivered splinters ache.

Tiny diamonds to pull out; you can’t remove the pain yourself.

So, you sit and someone you don’t know, pokes and prods; it looks easy to remove,

The shard, the sliver, the hurt.

But, they dig around and hum a tune, as if these moments are nothing;

Small agony, plastic smiles in the end — as if a person’S brushed past.

Then, all of the paint, and the thickening mediums flood the canvas sky.

The masterpiece peeling paint, blotched lines, trailing wet drips, paths down a wall;

A damp foggy space and you keep cutting yourself, unable to see ten-steps ahead;

Day-by-day, you learn to let your wounds be, to reform pottery takes time — to heal with precious metal.

What’s the price, what’s the damage?What’s the favor or end game; what are the lies?

But then everyone’s suffering slivers, there’s glass on every road;

Popped tires, cars skid, windshields stunned; windows battered.

Eyes close, too many slivers slice, each somedays,

What’s the method to remove them without prodding half-healed scars?

Change a thoughtless habit, change the world; change only need be small.

No one asks for slivers, embedded glass in their hand, scar tissue that makes tiny wounds bleed;

When any human, no matter their background cries, mercy should be given without fail;

Care and concern without a price as sometimes there’s help — but then there’s help —

Precarious day’s where both you and I’ve done untold damage — but I’m learning we must repair wounds despite.

Tiny or gaping, the hurt matters not when it can be healed — be it with ease or struggle.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo Day 28/ Photo Challenge: “Blazed Flowers” #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge. For NaPoWriMo as like the last few, it’s my own poems.



Drama, flashy scarlet blazed flowers;

Smeared paint exposed,

But, their witherings coming soon.

*****

Imagination is everywhere, flourishing in —

Whatever time lives;

In the humid horizon’s pull.

*****

In secrets, great mischief before,

Moves past brilliance —

Glittering, sky drops ambient stars.

*****

And white-noise dulls senses;

Wasp-words, tales,

Tones, of misunderstanding– play.

*****

Wilting begins, scarlet blooms remember,

Not the hurting,

Just words unsaid; say it.

*****

Inane games, rolling eyes; chatter —

Time fades so,

Say what you mean — say.

*****

Let the petals of yesterday,

Blow listless away;

Today’s a new dawn lit.

*****

Forget the yesterday’s —

No one knows,

The truth of each other.

*****

Next Spring we all re-blossom,

Poets words, views,

Are never what you’d think.

*****

People aren’t poetry, symbols are —

Obvious or not;

Red of blazed flower’s laugh.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 24/ Poem — Free Verse — “Bird Dreams” #amwritingpoetry


For NaPoWriMo Day 24: my own prompt again.


Credit: Coral Birds Pinterest


There was a bird coral flushed, torn in the Red Sea waves,

And she floated in the healing, until her wings were drenched in mineral salts.

She preened on a rock, wings coated in salt-dust;

But, one day a storm raged and she was drenched in the mud.

The healing earth, and brokenness beneath meant nothing.

Rain washed, and she spread her plush coral feathers — lunged for the sky;

The salt and mud weighed, not much had fallen-smooth away.

But, she flew anyways — some birds fly despite;

They rise, even if you hold them down;

If you clip their wings, their feathers still grow rapid.

If you hear not a squawk, don’t be surprised if you do — she talks, no moment is right, but there’s reasons beneath silence.

It takes time to soar weighted by sludge, to balance weights on your wings;

But she’s flying and she’s okay, she might send a squawk your way —

Depends if you’re a bird person, or weighted to cement delusions.

She might squawk, or she might fly onto the tangerine sunset,

Where the saltless waters are clean, and her wingspan for a moment’s graceful.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.