Saturday Mix: Poem – Synchronicity – “Seventeen at Heart” #amwriting #poetry #SaturdayMix 


Thank you to Teresa from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for holding last week’s Saturday Mix. The prompt topic is to use the number seventeen in someway. 

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Credit: Eden Hills

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When I was seventeen years old, 

A wise man told me to enjoy, 

Be free. 

——-

When I was seventeen I saw, 

Poverty in Mexico such —

Suffering. 

———

A cycle that can’t be undone, 

Without a better government, 

Wages raised. 

——-

Without education for all, 

Who seek to improve their lives torn, 

Hoping. 

——

When I was seventeen I saw, 

Stray dogs wandering without homes, 

Hungry. 

——-

The children starved, the animals, 

Begged for lefover scraps, they’re both, 

Love starved. 

——–

When I was seventeen met, 

Old frenemies and rebonded, 

New times. 

——-

When I was seventeen turned, 

Eighteen in July still felt, 

A child. 

——–

At eighteen, I felt seventeen, 

At twenty two I felt the same, 

Not grown. 

——-

Then I learned it’s your outside that, 

Changes, age is mythology, 

There are —

———

Times in your life where the world, 

Makes you hurt, learn, dissemble, 

Go on. 

——

——-

Hope’s there for all who choose to be, 

Seventeen at heart forever, 

Means strength, 

——–

Means trivialities, meaningless, 

Faith is a laturn, guides footsteps, 

In dark. 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Three Line Tales: Poem – Synchronicity – “Worth Teeth” #amwriting #poetry #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.

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Credit: Carson Arias via UnSplash

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It’s called a Lego graveyard,

A container full of beheaded,

Small men —

—–

A variety of pleasant looks,

Others with face’s of ire,

 No heads.

——

The girl and boy they build fast,

Tear bodies from heads not knowing, 

Bad thoughts. 

—–

—–

A pile of joy for building kids, 

A sight of horror for parents;

Gold teeth. 

——

As Nazi’s removed in death camps, 

Nothing dulls pain of Jewish soul; just —

Worth teeth. 

——

A few years ago I saw an excellent movie made by and including George Clooney and some of the regular actors found in his movies — Matt Dameon (etc.) called The Monuments Men. “The film follows an Allied group from the Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives program that is given the task of finding and saving pieces of art and other culturally important items before Nazis destroy or steal them, during World War II (Wikipedia). 

One of the aspects of the film that overwhelmeingly struck me as awful was as these men went into underground mines and other places the Nazi’s hid priceless artwork, were barrels full of teeth with gold fillings that had been pulled from Jewish Concentration camp prisoners. This is just one mote terrible act of numerous actions done to Jewish prisoners slated to die by Nazis in death camps. Upon researching this, I found the practice by Nazi’s to be accurate even within the context of the movie.  I read that in some cases, the Nazi soldiers forced other prisoners to do this job form them and no pain numbing drugs or even alcohol was provided. 

As well, the movie is based on a fictitious novel but the story itself is based off of real life events that are to some extent historically accurate. In the film, these American men who reclaimed the art work left the gold filled teeth and of course that was the right thing to do. Anyways, in my warped mind, those barrels full of gold teeth fillings are what these lego heads reminded me of — sorry for the imagery! 

This article The Monuments Men (2014) compares the movie and the real life Monument’s men. It answers some interesting questions about WWII Nazi History and Hitler’s reasons behind stealing such a wealth of art.  

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reseved. 

Photo Challenge: Poem – Synchronocity – “Art Hell” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge. 

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Credit: Kyla @ Deviantart

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I’m a vivid monument, 

I’m his lover cruelly tricked, 

Just art. 

——

Result of magic powerful, 

A priest with such evil intent,

Wounds me. 

—–

For I had thought the toxic paint,

That burned my skin would kill me,

I wished.

——-

I only pass out the priest laughs, 

Eyes glinting, evil smile, tells me —

“Enjoy.”

—–

For this was my punishment,

Tempting our ‘leader’ with my love, 

Trapped now. 

—–

Not quite alive, not quite so dead,

My man, the leader, loves artwork, 

He stares.

—–

I wonder if he recognizes,

A shadow of his beloved gone, 

Each night. 
—–

He comes with pain others cannot —

Ever see; I could’ve been his, 

Soft place. 

—–

Never can I speak, the priest’s curse, 

Ensured silence, a spell took —

My voice.

—–

—–

I pray to God help me find —

My love jumps as my voice cries,

Returned. 

——

Becomes aghast, furious, 

He thinks me a dream I tell him,

The truth. 

—-

Our stories, our love, a life —

We’d planned and he listens,

With tears.

—–

Then such rage summoning priest,

Who is forced to repair me from this, 

Art hell.

——

I’m taken from between life and —

Death; restored to my former self, 

I’m saved.

—–

My hero never gave up on —

Me; didn’t believe I ran, now 

We’re us.

—-

Priest I have no knowledge of, 

My guy, our leader was enraged, 

Priest dead? 

—-

Or suffering hell as I?  

Two years in art trapped, lost; 

Now free.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weavers: Poem – Synchronicity – “Safe” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry #BellLetsTalk


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt which is: a story through the eyes of a child. 

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Credit: UnSplash

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Mommy you let go my hand, I’m quick–

Mere seconds pass, I’m laughing freely, 

I run. 

—–

Mommy, I’m giggling what it is —

Feeling free, everyone looks at me, 

Smiling.

—–

Down the aisles of Superstore, 

You’ve lost me, can you find me now? 

I’m fast.

——-

Boxes, packages to pull down, 

Grinning, happy, into candy, 

Sitting —

——-

Waiting for me on the shelf are —

My favourite chocolate and gummies;

Mommy? 

——

Where’d you go? I think I’m lost, 

I’m scrunching my face, tears begin, 

Where’d you —

——-

Go? Mommy; don’t leave me here now, 

Some lady grabbed my hand and —

It hurts.

——

She won’t let go, dragging me off, 

Stranger danger; no one helps me,

Let Go! 

*****

It’s okay now, Mommy is here

Holding you close, grabbing your hand;

She runs.

——

Scared I’ll turn her in and I should, 

Who tries to kidnap a child in —

Daylight? —

——–

 At all? Cannot trust, stay near me, 

Now you know why and you’re safe, 

From harm.

—–

Mommy will never let you go, 

Her precious boy, her sweet sunshine, 

Is hers.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 
 

Tale Weaver: Poem – Synchronocity – “A Deadly Night” #amwriting #poetry #fiction #taleweavers


Here is last week’s  Tale Weaver prompt, held by MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. The prompt is a story about being caught in a deep freeze. 

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Credit: Winter Wolly

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Stuck fast in this ice, no relief, 

Car pushed off he highway it’s —

Dark, cold

——-

We’re lucky we’re uninjured that, 

We’ve signals on our smart phones; night

Descends. 

——-

There’s no gas left in the tank from, 

Starting, then turning off the heat

Stars bleed

——

Giant glimmering balls, twinkle, 

Outside our windows; but we’re still —

Stuck here. 

——-

We called the AMA, come find —

Us because we’re frozen; minus 

Forty

——-

Nighttime is bitter, freezing we’re, 

Huddled beneath silver blankets, 

Wondering. 

——-

Then he starts shaking, lips so blue

Then he’s still; hypothermia

Induced. 

*****

But the sun is rising now; we’ve —

Made it through the dark; my friend he —

Yet sleeps. 

——

Hearing voices outside our car, 

Come to save us now, opening —

Our doors. 

——

Light leaks in, such needed warmth; I —

feel my hands, shaking you awake, 

You blink

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Photo Challenge: Poem – Synchronicity – “The Thief” #amwriting #poetry #fiction


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting. 

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Credit: Anja Buhrer

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“But how can one regret what, to the mind, has never existed? Even loss is an inaccurate description, for what loss is without the awareness of losing?” – Nicole Krauss 

——

Reflections or shadows briefly stand,

Together as soulmates, us two

Lovers.

——

Your illusion captivates,

Your splendour resilient,

Eyes bright.

——

Even mirror images,

Destain to show your glory told, 

Goddess.

——

Knew you once as a child laughing bold,

Called you names and pulled your hair,

Cute girl.

——-

You’ve grown and you’ve changed,

Hair black and sweeping, shoulder length,

Glossy.

—–

Green eyes telling a story of —

Smiling lips, straightened teeth gleaming

Perfect.

—–

Stubborn chin, lovely breasts rising,

Fluted waist, lush body, legs —

Stellar.

—-

Curves run imagination wild and I, 

Stare, hopeful to hear your lilting voice —

Whisper. 

*****

I examine our reflections,

How strange you hate your beloved —

Husband.

—–

Caring for you as Alzheimers, 

Steals your lifememories; you’re —

Forty-nine.

——-

Synchronicity Poetry — A type of poem with events simultaneously related. The last two stanzas reveal a twist and the syllable count for each stanza is 8, 8, 2. 

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.