#NaPoWriMo Day 16/ Tale Weavers: Poem – Bop – “Snake Oil Please” #poetry #amwriting #taleweavers #MLMM


For NaPoWriMo Day 16 the Prompt is: “to write a poem that prominently features the idea of play.” I’m combining with Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver Prompt about Making Sense of Nonsense in which Adder’s Milk Snake Oil is the focus.

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Genuine Snake oil

Guaranteed Cure-All

Rub it in, take a spoonful each morning,

Infuse it in your tea.

Guaranteed Success and Instant Relief of all and any disease you might have.

——

Snake oil how absurd; think it will me cure?

Ma, can I go outside, do you concur?

Must I remain in bed? Same old card games;

I’ve played Spades each day, now I long for rain.

To jump in puddles, to soak myself wet,

Not to cough, wheeze — I hear snake oil’s the best.

It can heal the deepest wounds and relieve —

My greatest foes, both my lungs that less breathe;

Each and every day, my breath it thickens,

Other cures you give, they’re all pain ridden.

I want to go outside, play marbles and run,

Fast and hard, race the other boys for fun.

Let me free to shoot cans, snake oil can do that;

It will let me live my dreams at last.

Mom, do you hear me? Boil it in my tea.

Rub it on my chest, the soles of my feet.

I’ll no longer cough-up red, then I’ll soar;

My devotions are all read, so I implore.

Just pour it down my throat, then I’ll breathe,

Fresh spearmint air; snake oil for me, please.

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©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#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.

#NovemberNotes Day 14/ Saturday Mix: Poem – “Don’t Speak” #amwriting #poetry #SaturdayMix


November Notes Day 14 has a song Prompt Calle “Don’t Speak” by No Doubt. It’s one of my favorites from when I was twelve or thirteen years old and is one song that launched No Doubt and Gwen Stefanie into Star-dome. I’m combining with Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix Prompt on not using certain words including, meet, look, any, draw, fly. The idea is to find other words that mean the same thing.

Oh and P.S. NovemberNotes well continue for me into December until I’m finished all 30 days of songs.


Credits: Cristian Newman via Unsplash


Don’t Speak” by No Doubt


You and me used to be, we were always,

But it appears as though we’re parting ways,

Yet if it’s real, I don’t want to know,

You’ll only try to soften every blow.

I’ve lost my best friend, he fell in love with —

Her; he forgot about me, no goodbye kiss.

Don’t speak, I don’t need reasons they all hurt.

I don’t need your explaining, don’t speak,

Keep locked tight your sad excuses so weak.

Words of lies repeated, don’t speak, don’t speak!

You and I, we’re dying in the bleakness,

As your words are altogether frightening,

My blackened sky flares up with white lightening.

So telling of my anger, dark, loathsome,

It seems as though I’m actually letting go.

Don’t speak, I don’t need reasons, they all hurt.

Don’t tell me because it stings as rain,

Becoming thin needles, intense sharp pain.

Don’t speak, don’t speak, I don’t need your reasons,

Stop trying to talk for merely pleasing.

I believe we had our time now are connection ends,

Your soaring, sketching delusions to spend.

Don’t speak, I don’t need reasons, they all hurt.


© Mandibelle16 (2017) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo 28/Sunday Writing Prompts: Poem – Bop – “What Release’s Pain” #amwriting #poetry


For OctPoWriMo 28 I can’t get onto the website at the moment. Perhaps it’s because I am so far behind? Instead, I’ll just be using the Sunday Writing Prompt of Scribblers Dip of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie based on fake band names including: Squirrel Nut Zippers, GoGo Penguins, Abstract Evil Barbie, Bimbo Toolshed, The Pineapples from the Dawn of Time, Reign of Frogs, Devil with Cheese, Stop Calling Me Frank, Loudmouth kitten, and Kissyfoot. 

Credit: Yvette de Wit via Unsplash

When I met him, there was no telling of taste, 

In horrible music he thought was just great. 

I went with him to GoGoPenguin’s shows, 

Cringing as he sang to Hard Metal prose.  

Lyrics made my insides squirm hearing hate, 

He sang with angry fervor berating

There’s never any accounting for taste. 

At Abstract Evil Barbie I questioned, 

How ‘Barbie’ was perverse, lyrics lessened —

Her value as a child’s toy, words fearful — 

Of hurt and frustration sounding eerie

He loved each band, Bimbo Toolshed’s screaming, 

Destroying the whole world in pain keening. 

Beneath his clever smile he revealed his —

Desire to get back at life with derision

There’s never any accounting for taste. 

Reign of the Frogs made me shiver as they sang, 

Maliciously damning all those they harangued

I asked him why we couldn’t listen to words —

That were softer, happier, encouraging. 

But to him, Stop Calling Me Frank’s words curt

Released the devil inside him stopped his hurt. 

There’s never any accounting for taste. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 



#OctPoWriMo – Day 6/ FFftAW: Poem – Bop – “Reviving” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


For OctPoWriMo Day 6 the theme is pacing the floor. Also, I’m combining the Prompt with a couple of week’s old FFftAW Prompt held by Priceless Joy

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Credit: Pamela S. Canepa

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Back and forth, the floor boards are wearing out, 

Middle of the night where sleep is doubtful. 

High up in my condo, the black sky peppered, 

With giant twinkling points of light inspected. 

Watching from my glowing widows my feet, 

Tapping, then pacing to and fro with defeat. 

Now I lay me down to sleep while cars screech.

There’s nothing in me that makes sense of us, 

Of our loss, the pain mutually rusted. 

How do you find satisfaction being —

Aware of the wall’s writings, not seeing,–

How near the end we were without vision. 

Feeling fog come creeping, our schism —

Not a memory useful in the inky night. 

I survive, healing , letting go the fight. 

Now I lay me down to sleep while cars screech

From high above I watch the night, good friends – 

Walking, conversing, laughing, time extends. 

Wishing I was below to hear their words laughed, 

As my flat isn’t a home but small paths —

Towards more, silencing your name, rising —

In darkness; finding peace, my soul revives

Now I lay me down to sleep while cars screech. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weaver: Poem – Bop – “I’ve Enough” #poetry #taleweaver #dVerse #amwriting 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weavers #176. The Prompt is what it is we want in life. Also, thanks to Bodhirose of #dVerse Poet’s Pub for hosting open link night. 

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Google Free Image

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All the things I want, do I really need? 

Do I need more shirts, more heels, is that greed? 

If I made my sum of money wanted, 

Would it ever be enough? Life’s haunting  —

Me to spend more cash, not to save some more;

Could having more money make you poorer? 

All I want, need, matters not — I’ve enough. 

——–

If I was perfectly healthy, I would lose, 

Freedom over some of, my time; I’d choose —

A job with variety, nice colleagues, laughing, 

Not working casually from home alone, aghast —

At how much harder it is with details, 

How precision is difficult, I rail —

Not often, but when I’m tired, frustrated, 

When my short term memory is flustered. 

All I want, need, matters not — I’ve enough. 

——

Yet I’m able to focus on writing —

My dream; building my talent’s exciting

I’m able to write, home or a coffee shop, 

Or to binge watch Netflix when I’m feeling, 

Energyless and downcast, mind reeling. 

Wishing I had my blessings and wasn’t ill, 

I desire my full health, yet I’m fulfilled. 

All I want, need, matters not –I’ve enough. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem – Bop – “Another Wonderland” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this prompt. For the prompt I have chosen the theme “a trip behind the looking glass,” the male Z name “Zenith,” the female Z Name “Zephira,” the instrument of a “mandolin,” the scent of “vanilla,” and the verb “surrender.”  Also, I’m combining the Prompt with Grace from Poetic’s Pub #dVerse on boarders

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Credit: Diogo Costta

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Mirror divides, boarders in this place from next,

She’s a second Alice, in blue, much perplexed. 

Her name, Zephira, born in distant lands. 

Fingers graze looking glass, ripples expand, 

Beyond here she knows lies Wonderland where —

She’ll meet talking creatures, rabbits, hares. 

Through the looking glass, Zephira finds new life. 

She’s read of Alice’s journey; though glass,

So she enters, vanilla an aroma that lasts; 

Invades her lungs as she breathes it in, 

This new reality, chance to explore freedom. 

Not to be forced to surrender to life’s —

Hypocrisy, marriage games played with spite. 

Alliance (loveless) to wealthy prospects, 

Zephira forgets, enticed with perspective. 

Through the looking glass, Zephira finds new life. 

Notes of the mandolin strummed lead her bare feet, 

To places wondrous where flowers her greet.  

Rising high, to top of mountain peeks, finds, 

Zenith, who’ll not control her, so she shines. 

Zephira surrenders to him, her choice glad, 

Holding hands in boarders of Wonderland. 

Through the looking glass, Zephira finds new life.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.  


Poem: Bop – “For A Spark” #poetry #dVerse #amwriting 


Thanks to Paul Scribbles of Poet’s Pub for hosting the #dVerse prompt on “the end.” 

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Credit: Roksolana Zasiadko via Unsplash

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The end is never the end. It’s always the the beginning of something.” ― Kate Lord Brown, The Perfume Garden

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There once was a beginning, but for us, I think;

We never were, until we were, created in a blink.

Once upon a time there was the Word, 

The Word was God; It was with Him to be heard. 

All was darkness but the Word was the light 

The Word was the cure, it was omniscient insight.

Every spark becomes darkness, but His fire brings dawn. 

In the first beginning, his light lit uncountable sparks, 

That eternal, all-knowing ‘start’ burning through the dark. 

Where beginnings take place; journeys are revealed, 

Where life is born, ideas form, the masked are unconcealed. 

Beginings that inspire and conspire to grow and leap,  

Sparks choosing to expire, or to burn on in the deep.

There is the ‘lighter’ of the spark and the ‘spark’ itself;

Knowledge too that sparks turned cinders, have eternal help. 

Every spark become darkness, but His spark brings dawn. 

Who knows of endings but that they’re already won, 

The ‘Candle-snuffer’ futile fights, his end already come.  

He decided his ending forever, when our spark was new, 

He’s the one temptation slithered, damnation to all construed. 

The eternal light is present, no cinders who ask will end up ash, 

Faith is fuel that forever burns, so the term ‘end’ has passed.   

Every spark becomes darkness, but His spark brings dawns. 

 ——–

©Mandibelle16 (2017) All Rights Reserved. 


Writing Prompt: Poem – Bop – “Breaks Your Bones With Mirth” #poetry #amwriting


Thanks to Pat of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Sunday’s writing prompt. 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie (Pat)

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There’s something about love decidedly,

Painful, heart twisting, leaving jagged lines.

While once you functioned on your straight path, 

You struggle to be separated, unclasped, 

From your lover caught such sweet endorphins,

Feel good moments together, love morphed. 

Love breaks your bones with laughter and rich mirth. 

There are times you beg to be left alone, 

Marking out your space, a millisecond —

Of time to yourself wished, without cleaning, 

Tidying up the mess, dealing with mean, 

Gestures of agonized perfection you’ll, 

Never live up to, with nagging so cruel.

If only it was easier to both be, 

More easy going, he and you pleased. 

Love breaks your bones with laughter and rich mirth. 

Back under the covers hide you both, 

Yourselves, to frantic lovers never clothed. 

When you can forget your petty squabbles, 

When skin and touch are both arrows, 

To passion and renewal, to time spent, 

Lounging and loving close, you both relent. 

Love breaks your bones with laughter and rich mirth. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 


Tale Weaver: Poetry – Bop – ” The Forest Sweet” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Tale Weaver Prompt based on forest creatures, a couple weeks back. 

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Credit: Google Images, Reusable

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Fly with me to the forest enchanted, 

Where all magic life is fair transplanted. 

Lacking peace in cities it’s ungranted, 

Fly to the faeries for those sweet romantics. 

Into the gleaming marsh of enchantment, 

Forget  pain with tranquility granted. 

Come fly with me, to the magic forest. 

You may not believe me, you may not care, 

Let me lead, you’ll never be disparaged

Blue birds tweet-talk, sweet advice they share, 

Deer bow low, demand fur be stroked right there.

Behind their ears, on their bellies so bared. 

Nymphs stunning, gorgeous come out they’re aware, 

You’ve paid a visit, they chatter, wine shared, 

Ambrosia sweets flow, your body’s repaired

Come fly with me, to the magic forest. 

Visit anytime, day or night, be pleased, 

Someone’s awake with wine or cold tea. 

Faeries they greet with moonshine and they tease

You’ll never admit, this place is your peace, 

The magic in your heart, is to believe. 

Come fly with me, to the magic forest. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.