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.

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100 Word Wednesday: “Star of the Floor” #amwritingfiction


Credit: Spencer Davis via Unsplash.


Leona tossed her hat. In the end, it was her on the dance floor in nude heels. A flash of light caught her eye on the turquoise ribbon from her hat; she laughed as the audience clapped. Her partner grinned, and she strutted towards the bar. Sweat dripped.

“A shot tonight Leona?” Carlos lifted the tequila bottle; Leona held up her hand.

“Not tonight, just water. Two.” She gulped the first glass, and after the second.

“Take it easy out there, Leona,”Carlos chided. You don’t have to be the star of the show every night. Take it easy sometimes.”

Leona threw back her long hair. “I can’t help it.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “You’re the owner. Some nights it’s okay to relax.”

Leona pushed away from the bar. “I’m a dancer, that’s what I do. My mother did the same, her mother to. You know how it is.”

Carlos’ face broke into laugh lines as he chuckled. “I knew your mother well.”

Leona fixed her lipstick. “She was what she was; so am I.”

The music for the next dance song played and Leona twirled into place. As long as she could, her grandmother and mother’s legacy would continue at the dance club they began.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: “Lake Loss” #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to Sonya for Only 100 Words.


Credit: Kong Jun via Unsplash.


Waves lapped at the shores, on the sand, toe-burying beaches; a lone cross stood where Jeffrey Adams built sand castles. He giggled as the tide came in, his mother laughed as he splashed into the lake further; then, the bottom of the lake dropped along with her heart. Seven-years later the blaring sun stung Mrs. Adam’s eyes; each June, their family went to Pebble beach and hung floating beach toys on the cross — Jeffrey has loved his flamboyant pink flamingo best.

(Sorry, a sad one.)


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Fiction – I Need You Anyways #amwritingfiction #photochallenge #mindlovemiserysmenagerie


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge.


Credit: MLMM — Gabriel Isak


Grey, bleak, fogginess floods through summer light. An icy breeze whipping hair in my mouth, as the gulls chirp overhead and my last bottle shatters; no more messages in a bottle, carried in the waves. Paper airplanes glide in the breeze, one after the other. Will the breeze carry these words far enough? To the next island, the next ship? Or will these bottle–less messages be pounded in the wild storm, in the coast? Will they be understand? Will they be heard? Or, will it be too late to say the words that are never easy to say, never were: “I need you anyways.”


©️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 27/ Three Line Tales: Lune – “Stalled” #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to Sonya of Three Line Tales.


Credit: Les Anderson via Unsplash.


She’s stalled, shapely yellow dress;

Lips scarlet, cheeks —

White heels; dazed diamond eyes.

*****

Hands clenched, lashes flicker midnight;

He’s there again,

Lies snicker, smoke daylight — fake.

*****

As if his fist slipped,

Bruised purple without —

Admitting truth; he maimed her.

*****


©️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.