Three Line Tales: Fiction – Future Change #amwritingfiction #3LineTales


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


Credit: Jan Genge via Unsplash

There’s a butter gingerbread house peeking through the refinery basins. An out of place dwelling reminding me that all eras and styles of design must merge; the essence of past centuries meet in the present. A chemical acridness fades at the refineries as residents don’t comprehend efficient and green technology used to refine oil today; people forget merging the old and new is a necessity for future change.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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#OctPoWriMo Day 31/Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem — “Plain Sight” #amwritingpoetry #SundayWritingPrompt #MLMM


For OctPoWriMo Day 31 the Prompt is the word endless. I’m combining with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt based on the Sylvia Plath letter quote: “I talk to God, but the sky is empty.” so glad to be done OctPoWriMo two-months later. It took awhile, but I’m happy it’s done in time for Christmas. Lol.


Credit: Paulo Brandao via Unsplash


Words in the tumbled breeze,

Chatter of birds in early light;

Blinding my ears to fright.

Intense azure glows, I cover my eyes;

It burns, it burns,

What a fright, what a fright.

Restless, my ears ringing as if I’ve spent all night,

With giant speakers, there jarring blare.

And oh, my eyes how they sting,

Such terrible light blinds me in fear.

How can such gleaming light be wonderful?

For me, it’s a curse.

No afternoon delight, but hellish nightmare.

The hammer’s swift; I the rock pit —

It’s pulsing, the rhythmic pain seething.

Lips moaning pleas,

Make it stop, but its unceasing.

Not after strong coffee as my stomach lurches,

Nor over toast I spit-out disgusted.

My skin, elephant tusks envy such paler.

No wine or liquor could cause,

A tinge so blue as the veins in my wrist.

Such hopelessness,

A putrid cycle of faithlessness.

Once I believed, now I am lost;

Lamb to the slaughter, must I too sputter?

Have my heart carved,

Gurgling water, blood in the tide.

But the tawny bird near my ear,

He flew inside my broken pane.

He cocks his stubborn head,

Eyes rapid; he mutters, words pained.

His left wing slops,

Tossed from the nest, now he rests near me.

I’ve not the heart to twist his neck,

Though his wing be his death.

But oh, he chirps, eyes rapid,

He sings despite his tepid clawed-steps.

Tiny talons gripping my pillow.

He sings, peers outside,

Aware he can’t fly;

We both can’t.

So, we stare in confusion,

Peering at each other, eye to eye.

Both defenselessness,

We know will soon be cut down.

Yet, while I groan, bird tweets,

The funniest chirps, as if conversing.

He’s livid until I arise, bring him a saucer;

Sups his water, munches sunflower seeds.

He try’s to flutter, my heart leaps —

He flails to the floor.

His eyes see cerulean horizons,

Not wretched revolt.

I’m mad at God,

He made the bird disabled.

But as I curse — bird’s tawny head shakes, beak twerps.

It occurs to me,

He sees more than ‘something’ out there.

If he can chatter at me unperturbed by my size,

Then, fling himself towards the sky —

Only to fall,

Perhaps than, faith can also fly again?

If God can mend my wounded heart,

With nails, grit embedded deep,

Can my feathered mate,

Have his wing set straight?

Perhaps, yes?

Then we can both soar,

And peer to the azure, the Heavens.

Recognize that this ‘something,’

Isn’t intangible, isn’t hiding,

It’s in plain sight,

Crystalline truth sudden,

In opulent morning breeze.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 30/Saturday Mix: Poem – Lunes – “The Final Dance” #amwritingpoetry #SaturdayMix


For OctPoWriMo Day 30 the Prompt is dancing on the moon. I’m combining with Sarah from MindLoveMisery”s Menagerie Same But Different, Saturday Mix prompt. For this week we need to find synonyms for the following words: water, fabric, polish, switch, and floor.


Credit: Donald Giannatti via Unsplash


Elegant silk, battles I’ve wrought,

Pink leather rock,

I’ve bled magic into dust .

*****

Care not you for plies?

Broken-in hide,

Feet deformed, calloused, and refined.

*****

Torture wrought by instructors, tutors —

Lips bit; droplets,

Blood sticking; pealing away slippers.

*****

On stage I’m Fairy Queen,

Benign White Swan;

Hidden behind, black-swans swipe.

*****

Struggle, no food, treats, temptation;

A bite will,

Destroy me — never lose face.

*****

I’ve chosen to suffer, embracing —

Tomorrow’s hip replacements;

Knobby knees mettle, posture destroyed.

*****

Living is dancing, so I twirl,

Toes dying as —

My heart lifts; I fly.

*****

Crowds roar, shout bravo aloud,

We curtsy, bow,

As inside we die, depressed.

*****

Anorexic Divas, or devils spitting;

Plastic smiles shift,

Undermining each other’s talents — dreams.

****

Now, I’m the Sugarplum Fairy;

Legs lift to hips, stretch —

Split, bend with finesse blurred.

*****

Tomorrow I’m gone; the ballet,

A hunger games;

I nibble chocolate, humbled, resigned.

*****

Though I was a tigress inside,

Mangling slippers; I’m —

Listless absorbing the starry night.

*****

I’m elegant, nimble as Luna’s —

Glow spotlights my,

Final dance, done beneath moonlight.

*****


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 28/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – English Sonnet – “Eiffel Tower” #amwritingpoetry #100WordWednesday


For OctPoWriMo Day 28 the prompt is “a dilemma. A split path. A difficult choice. Maybe even a chasm or schism.I’ve combined this prompt with Bikurgurl’s 100 Word Wednesday photo prompt.


Credit: Paul Gaudriault via Unsplash


Split as in — split as what? Split as lighted —

Towers as the Eiffel, divides night sky?

Split, you gleam luminescent sighted,

E’n from dim, breathless outer-space’s high.

Did you, majestic tower, split classes?

Levels of archaic demeaning,

Serf, merchants — the King’s ‘Tonne’ harassing.

No food, left starving; the tower stood gleaming.

A literal divide; noble heads rolled.

De Vince’s Masterpiece, a deep chasm?

Perhaps, it stands for more — collaboration?

Witless tyrants passed, yet the world spasms.

Eiffel bright, you’ve witnessed such great errors;

Hope people change — that we’re not all terrors.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 26/Photo Challenge: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Words Slighted” #amwritingpoetry #PhotoChallenge #MLMM


For OctPoWriMo Day 26 the Prompt was inside out. Combining with NEKNEERAJ’s Photo Challenge Prompt.


What is inside you (thoughts, feelings etc) that should be out to the world, but aren’t? Do you have anything inside you that is out, but that you didn’t want to be? Or maybe you are relieved that these ‘inside’ feelings are finally ‘out’?


Credit: Ingrid Endel


Inside me is a puzzle, but you’ve each —

Deciphered yours; you see what you want to see.

And you see what I’ve hidden, cracks that bleed;

Floorboards uncovered, with mystery screech.

You can’t with irate words, pretend to preach,

When you’re knowledge is without ‘word’ essence;

You can’t know truth as golden feathers pressed.

Her name unfurling, a diamond-angel’s speech.

Each syllable’s a traveller wandering.

Vague, lost, content, but curious pondering,

Which roads to amble, in sunlight or rain.

I know we’re all great puzzles, but we’re all —

Poets, writers too; we know despite falls,

Secrets buried within our stories told;

Truth’s a pact; words slighted by Cupid’s bow.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 25 – Poem – Free Verse – “The Door Swings Both Ways” #amwritingpoetry


For OctPoWriMo Day 25 the prompt is “the door goes both ways.”


Credit: Vibhav Satam via Unsplash.


The door swings both ways,

I can’t discern its turn;

Swoosh of air inviting,

The click of quiet closure;

Or, slammed with a clammer.

Turn of the key, of the screw —

As locks clink, slip into place.

The door swings both ways,

No one determines, what each door opening or closure means.

We never know,

That’s the problem.

One opens,

Another closes.

We bang on a door we were fervent to beg for.

We tilt our heads in wonder,

When another doorway path leads us yonder.

Into carmine fields of poppies,

Into the jingling of sleighs.

A whisper from a child,

Who bids us come this way;

That we’ve been missing a whole world,

And our eyes have finally

seen,

Cracked open, no longer flown wide-shut.

An azure-blue of ascending staircases with tired feet;

To more perilous doorways,

Some forever locked,

Some opened a sliver, as a test.

Some we must break down,

As with wild axes, we fight for another breath.

More doorways,

But oh how thankful we are,

That some of the deadliest doorways are caverns left for dead.

The door swings both ways.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 24/ Saturday Mix: Poem -Quadrille – “Winged Flight” #amwritingpoetry #SaturdayMix


For OctPoWriMo Day 24 the prompt is based on opening. Combining with Saturday Mix, Opposing Forces. Today’s words are Our words this week are: simple and complicated, and vowel and consonant



Open the gates,

Explain walls, deception;

Explain complicated questions.

Hurt riveting our senses,

Failing daily, but still–

Church-bells chime with consonance;

Symphonic Jubilee.

Perhaps, you’ll heal?

Our worlds will collide, amplified.

Perhaps, you’ll comprehend?

Torn butterfly wings;

Silent assonance screamed.

Featherless despite hope’s,

Winged flight.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 22: Poem – Free Verse – “More than Poetry” #amwritingpoetry


For OctPoWriMo Day 22 the prompt is betrayal.


Credit: Mark Zimmerman via Unsplash


It’s not betrayal is it?

Your visage, your sweet face?

Crinkled laugh lines with delicate hands you sew;

The quilter mending patients square by square.

It’s no lie is it?

Your eyes how they sparkle,

Crinkle at corners I caress.

It’s no lie is it?

Your fervent prayers to God, your blessings?

Tell me you’re for real.

Once too many times, the knife has slipped between my ribs —

I know your heart it’s battered too,

Betrayals slick slim choking your breath.

But, it’s okay, you and I can unfurl our wings together, and fly without feathers.

We’ve wings of greater substance.

Though scar tissue worsens each wound, we’ll strive on and on, and on.

So, please don’t snap me — or woe on you who would betray.

For now, night creatures chirp, rumple leaves beside our hiding place.

This Eden amidst midnight stars; morns unfolding rays —

You’re for real aren’t you?

Fingers trace your jaw, your shadow,

Absorb the sun heating your skin;

Later, the moon reflects within your inscrutable eyes.

And life is too raw and too real — a brokenness revealed.

So, please be for real, more than words; for people are not poetry.

Be more than verbal affluence,

Be the poem that’s twilight and sweet whispers true;

A place to rest even in struggle;

Let us not betray confidence, let us not scatter our love to the four winds’ turbulence.

Stay near, your breath warming mine,

Let’s tend our love, and be gentle amidst life’s destructive storms.

Let’s be more than poetry.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#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.

#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.